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januaryembrs · 8 months ago

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THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]

Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)

word count: 7.9k

trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.

authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.

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'Doctor, look into my eyes.

I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'

The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.

Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.

Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7.

Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.

Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now.

They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included.

Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings.

Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up.

Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt.

But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t.

He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around.

So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help.

Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover.

“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,”

“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.

“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”

“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,”

“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her.

He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard.

Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her.

She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside.

“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?”

She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again.

“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”

“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”

Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her.

“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”

He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances.

The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece.

“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare.

A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching.

“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up.

She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms.

The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly.

“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help.

Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face.

The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried.

“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing.

She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home.

But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her.

He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic.

And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed.

Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.

It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it.

It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking.

JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed.

Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.

So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her.

JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more.

So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm.

So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few.

It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book.

“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,”

She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation.

“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?”

“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.

“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend.

She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words.

She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised.

So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.

JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse.

Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out.

Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit.

Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t.

He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,”

Nothing.

And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of.

“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot.

He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver.

He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.

“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,”

“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”

“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then.

“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,”

“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out.

She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle.

“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.

“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before.

“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”

“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise.

“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,”

And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished.

He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack.

And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.

If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese.

Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this.

It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her.

So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).

“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,”

“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”

“Do you mean julienne?”

“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid.

“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty.

“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”

David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there.

Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her.

“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”

David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now.

“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”

“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"

“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound.

She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too.

Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning.

“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol.

She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips.

“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.”

“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile.

“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,”

And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks.

While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.

She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway.

It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in.

He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later.

“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing.

“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months.

She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was.

But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again.

Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door.

It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time.

But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years.

“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab.

She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed.

It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was.

“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans.

“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!”

Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.

“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”

“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”

They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with.

Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought.

This never happened.

Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning.

That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s.

So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage.

Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more.

He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom.

“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”

And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit.

She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down.

It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her.

“Bug, I’m getting you-”

“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought.

Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her.

“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke.

“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”

His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,”

“Hm?”

“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks.

“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,”

His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her.

He felt like a fool.

“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.”

“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,”

It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth.

He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly.

“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.”

He would be lying if he said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.

“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder.

Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock.

She kissed him. She had kissed him.

And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.

“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again.

Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together.

But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep.

He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow.

–

taglist:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @sadbae-33

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #matthew grey gubler x reader

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alltoowelltom · 10 months ago

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driving lessons

lando norris x reader

a/n: just wanted to get back into writing and i've gotten super into F1 the last few months

"Alright, y'ready to start?" Lando asks from the passenger seat.

You hum, running a hand over the gear shift.

"Yeah. Let's get this shit over with."

Lando chuckles at that, rolling his eyes. It's weird for him, turning his head the other way to look at you in the driver's seat of his McLaren. He usually hates to give up control, especially when driving is involved.

"You might start to really like it once you get confident." He suggests. "Might even put me out of a job if I'm not careful."

You double check in the rearview mirror one more time. It's a crisp, early morning on a quiet residential street that Lando picked for you to practice your driving in. He's determined for you to pass your upcoming drivers' test and finally get a license. When he'd approached you about teaching you to drive a few weeks ago you'd jumped to the wrong conclusion.

"I'm sorry if I ask you to drive me around too often," you'd apologised immediately. "You can always say no, I don't mind getting an Uber or catching the train."

"Nah, it's not that, lovie," he'd corrected you, pulling your body closer on the couch and resting his curly head atop of yours. "I like being useful to you and driving you places. I just worry about you when I'm away, there's always so many creeps on public transport. I just want you to be safe."

Your heart had squeezed at his words. Maybe he was right, maybe it was time to finally learn to drive?

"You're all clear." he informed you, twisting around to double check the road behind you. "Just take off the handbrake, put the car into drive and pull into the road, okay?"

You do as he says, switching on your indicator before pulling out.

"Oh yeah," he laughs his famously high pitched laugh. "Definitely indicate too, good idea."

"I'm better at this than you already." you laugh.

You continue to drive along the narrow streets, slowing down to let a stray cat scamper across the road. Lando seems to grow impatient at the pace, motioning for you to speed up a bit, please.

“I didn’t know this car could go so slowly.” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gonna have to have a word with McLaren about it.”

He directs you to an intersection and you blink at the sight of so many cars whizzing past.

"Lan, help me," you turn to him with wide eyes.

"You're fine, love." He grins. "Wait for your gap and then merge the way they're going."

"But they're going so fast." You say. "What if I time it wrong and fuck up your car? This is not the ideal car for someone who can't actually drive."

"This is a great car." he defends.

"The doors open up instead of out." you deadpan. "This car is out of my league."

He shrugs as he stretches out in his seat, the picture of relaxation.

"I've added you onto my insurance as a learner driver," he says casually, almost yawning. "It'll be fine."

You ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his statement and follow his instructions, carefully merging in behind another car. Lando cheers, placing his big hand on your thigh and lightly tracing his fingertips along your inner leg.

"Stop that!" you shriek, slapping his hand away.

"Huh?" he blinks at you in confusion. "I'm being a loving boyfriend? I love when you have your hand on my leg while I drive, I thought you'd like it too?" he splutters.

You take one hand off the wheel and bring it to your mouth to hide your laughter.

"No," you say, cheeks tinged with a pink blush. "I physically can't concentrate on the road when you're touching me. Like I cannot think about anything else but you."

It's Lando's turn to blush now and he turns his face towards his window to hide it, pretending to be oh so invested in the stores you drive past. He knows the effect you have on each other, but it gives him butterflies to be reminded of how you see him. You've only been together a few months and he gets overwhelmed at how quickly you can turn him from a confident, sometimes even cocky guy to a pile of pink mush and hearts in seconds.

"Right," he blows a puff of air out his cheeks. "You're doing great at this. Maybe we can get you driving the Jolly next?"

thank you for reading! feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one smau

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allaboutnayeli · 2 months ago

Text

F.T.L | m.leon x reader / i.engen x reader

summary: you find out mapi is cheating, so you get revenge in the best way possible: getting a taste of her lover.

author notes: figure out what F.T.L stands for :)

contains: mapi leon x reader, ingrid engen x reader, mapi leon x ingrid engen, medical university student!reader, tattoo artist!ingrid engen, this is full of cheating & lying, cheating used as a form of revenge, everyone is sorta a piece of shit sorryyy, tons of angst, this is NOT smut so don't even, toxicity, a prime example of what NOT to do in a relationship, this is very long cause i'm not leaving yall on a cliffhanger, this is very insane so buckle in 🙂🩷

playing B.A.S by megan thee stallion 🎵

"are you sure she's cheating and you aren't just overthinking?" your bestfriend, daniela, says. the brunette is sitting right next to you on her couch. one arm resting on the back of the couch, her face resting in the palm of her hand and the other hand holding a glass of white wine.

"i wouldn't just accuse her of something this bad if i didn't have a reason to be suspicious," you respond. you take a sip of your own wine to shove down the anger and sadness that's bubbling in your conscience. not that daniela would ever judge you if you did let those emotions show themselves. the woman has been your pillar since you started having these suspicions about your girlfriend, maria.

my name is maria, but everyone calls me mapi. i would rather you call me yours, though, is what the spaniard said the first time you two met. you thought the pickup line was so cringe and dorky, but at the same time, so cute coming from the tattooed brunette.

and that one line led to nearly four years of a loving relationship. what can you say? mapi is one of the sweetest people you know. she remembers small details like how you prefer oat milk than any other kind, so she always makes sure to get it when she does the grocery shopping or the way you used to complain about how tight your hair ties were, so she bought you extra stretchy ones. she's the cutest cat mom with bagheera being absolutely spoiled. mapi was also protective, good with kids, and so many great qualities.

she is also a cheater.

sweet, caring, certified cat lover, super dorky maria is a cheater.

you sat on this suspicion for a short while before booking it to daniela's while mapi is at her favorite tattoo shop getting another inked beauty; that darned tattoo shop.

"after nearly every appointment, she goes out for drinks with her tattoo artist. at first, i thought she just made a new friend, but she always came back home looking messier than usual.. smelling like some perfume.. and when i ask her what they did at the bar, she barely tells me anything," you explain, "and you know how mapi is! she's the type of person who wouldn't be able to stop talking even if it was to save her life."

daniela nods in agreement. anyone who spends even a few minutes around mapi knows how much the spanish woman likes to talk. if there was a guinness world record for the "biggest yapper" mapi would be a record holder.

"okay, i would be suspicious too," daniela says. you let out an exactly that makes her playfully hit your arm. "anyways, back to what i was saying.. what are you going to do about it? even if she isn't cheating, something is going on."

you purse your lips as you take in her question. what are you going to do? confronting her right away feels wrong when you don't have concrete evidence. randomly accusing your girlfriend to her face wouldn't go over well; mapi is a sweetheart, but hates when people say she did something she's sure she didn't.

after some thinking about it, you come up with an idea.

"i need actual proof.." you start to say. daniela gestures for you to hurry up as you trail off.

"i have to get access to her phone."

it's around eight when mapi comes back to you guys apartment. you're feeding bagheera dinner when the spaniard walks through the door.

not wanting to seem suspicious and also just genuinely missing your girlfriend (even if you did suspect she was being disloyal) after a long day of basically not seeing her, you pet bagheera before standing up and going over to the front door. mapi has already slipped off her shoes when you walk over. she's smiles when you come close.

"hola mi preciosa," she giggles when you give her a welcome back home peck, "how was your day, hm?"

"good.. but better now that you're here," you say, pulling her into a hug. it's warm and makes your heart flutter like usual. those flutters go away as you smell that unfamiliar perfume on mapi, reminding you of what you talked about with daniela. you hide your frown in mapi's neck.

"aweee. you missed me that bad?" mapi says when you pull yourself out of the hug. still holding onto her as you two move to the kitchen.

you roll your eyes at her sudden cockiness. it's an annoying but charming trait of hers. now you wonder if that same charm is what made another woman fall for her hard enough that she didn't care that mapi was already taken; if the woman even knows.

you push those thoughts away. playfully teasing her as you say, "no, i just didn't want to wash the dishes after eating dinner. now you can do it."

mapi perks up at the sound of dinner and then groans at the talk of dishes. that was her least favorite chore by far.

"cmon, amor. you know you wash the dishes way better than i do," she pouts at you, leaning against the kitchen island. that pout makes you smile (something that you reprimand yourself for mentally) as you get the lasagna out of the oven.

you hear the meow of bagheera as she comes over to mapi. the brunette bends down and picks up the black cat right away. kissing the top of the cat's head like she always does.

"i swear you love that cat more than me," you joke.

mapi shrugs, "can you fault me if i did? just look at her, babe. she's adorable." she holds up bagheera so that the cat's face is facing you. of course, the black cat looks adorable per usual. you might not have been there from the beginning, but you love bagheera just as much as mapi does.

"yeahh.. the cutest one in the house," you say before turning your attention to the lasagna. you make two plates of lasagna and grab both when you finish.

"grab us some drinks, will ya?" you walk from the kitchen to the table in the 'dining room', which is really just open space between the kitchen and living room that needed something to be filled up with.

mapi says a quick okay before setting down bagheera back on the floor (she gives her a kiss before she does, of course) and goes over to the fridge. she grabs a pink lemonade for you and a pepsi for herself. she follows after you, setting the drinks down on the table, then sits down.

"gracias, mi amor," she says when you place her plate down in front of her. once you sit down across from her, you say, "de nada."

you two eat a bit before you bring up the tattoo shop. mapi is rambling on about the meetings she had to attend in the morning,

"-and all he does is go on and on about basically nothing. i don't get how someone can talk so much.." the spaniard says in between bites. you let out a giggle at the irony of mapi, of all people, complaining about someone talking too much. the nice atmosphere sours a little (at least for you) as you think back to what you need to ask; just to confirm, this suspicion of yours isn't something you made it due up to overthinking.

"he sounds annoying as shit," you chuckle, easily sliding into the topic you really want to know about, "beside all that, how was your tattoo appointment?"

mapi visibly gets less chipper than she was while rambling. the change is subtle, she bites her lip and starts to sorta push around the food on her plate as she looks down at it like she's thinking about what to bite next.

your eyes flicker down to her lips. why is she being hot at this moment? the spanish woman really has no right when she's acting like she doesn't wanna talk about something that should be her favorite topic. mapi loves tattoos. everyone knows she loves tattoos, so why wouldn't she yap about her appointments like she does everything else?

she takes a bite of her lasagna before shrugging, "it was alright. i didn't get anything done, but i talked with my tattoo artist about the design i wanted."

you nod, waiting for her to continue on like she usually would with any other topic, but no.

mapi just goes back to eating. obviously waiting for you to reply back to her.

"that sounds nice, baby. what design did you pick?" you ask.

"uh, just a design of bagheera."

"that's adorable."

mapi smiles at you, "i know. i already have a few of her, but i want more, you know. she's getting older."

"yeah, she's becoming a grandma." that makes mapi laugh loudly, going right into joking around about bagheera's age. you join in and don't even say anything when the topic strays away from the tattoo shop.

you two talk about practically nothing, finishing the rest of the lasagna. now both of you are washing dishes instead of it just being mapi's chore. what can you say? you aren't able to resist her puppy eyes even when all you think about when you see them now is if she ever used those on another woman romantically.

"are you ready for our date tomorrow?" you say, drying off a plate mapi handed you.

she smiles, "of course. i have been missing our date days. i'm so ready to spend the entire day with the prettiest woman i know." she turns towards you, puckering her lips for a kiss. you giggle and peck her lips a few times.

"you really think that?" you say. it comes out playful, but there is vulnerability lingering at its edges. in mapi's eyes is some concern, she knows you like the back of her hand. of course she would notice if you sound insecure.

mapi puts down the plate in the sink and dries her hands before pulling you close to her. she kisses the side of your face as her arms hold onto your waist, "why wouldn't i? just look at you. the love of my life."

usually, her words would reassure you right away, but not now. not when you are sure she's cheating on you. if you're so beautiful then why is she fucking around with someone else?

you don't let those thoughts influence your actions, though, as you hold onto her tighter. if you hold on a little longer, maybe you can pretend that mapi just really likes that tattoo shop and isn't doing anything strange. maybe you can pretend she's still all yours.

mapi lets you be the one to pull away, kissing you right away. then when that ends, she smiles, "i'm gonna finish up these plates, then shower. just go relax, okay?"

you nod, pecking her lips again before leaving the kitchen. you go to sit on the couch, bagheera coming over to sit on your lap. a cuddle session starts as bagheera snuggles up to you. the only sounds in the apartment is the tv playing, bagheera's purring, and mapi's humming as she washes the dishes as the woman can't even be silent when doing that.

soon enough, the sound of the water running stops. mapi says, "i'm going to go shower first. i'll be out in thirty. can you put my phone on the charger for me, amor?"

"mhm, sure!" this is finally your chance to check mapi's phone. you kiss the top of bagheera's head before letting her get off your lap, so you can go grab mapi's phone.

you reach the counter where she left the device on. your heart starts racing as you pick it up. just do a quick look, then put it on the charger you tell yourself as you start to type in mapi's password.

it doesn't work.

the password that mapi has been using since you two have been together isn't working.

"what the fuck..?" you murmur, trying the password one more time before just accepting that she changed it. you already have some evidence just from this because why would she change it? this also foils your plans. how can you get in her phone?

you decide you need to call daniela later and figure out a different plan.

right when you set down the phone back on the counter, a text pops up.

ingrid 💕

wish you could have stayed-

only the start of the message shows, and when you try to tap on it to see the rest, it says you have to unlock the phone. your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest as you tap on the message again, reading it over and over again. who the fuck is ingrid?

you have to get into her phone and soon.

you realize time is ticking. mapi won't be in the shower forever. quickly, you go and put her phone on the charger. your heart beat is not calming down even when you pick up bagheera from her cat tree and start to cuddle with her again. the contrast of bagheera being so calm and sleepy to your internal panic and hurt is laughable, but the black cat is grounding in a way. in the same way that mapi once was.

you sigh as you think about what this all could lead to. definitely a break-up, but you weren't gonna just leave and let mapi live in peace with.. ingrid. whoever the hell that is.

you are still deep into the mourning the lost of your relationship when mapi comes out of your bedroom. she's dressed in her usual oversized white t-shirt and shorts so short it looks like she isn't wearing any at all.

cute is what you would of thought if this was a week or two ago when you weren't sure that your girlfriend wasn't enjoying the company of someone else behind your back.

however, just because you figured mapi is cheating or doing something wrong doesn't mean all your feelings go away like a switch. you still find mapi very cute with that freshly washed, sleepy look on her face. you still want to get up and go kiss her on your way to the bathroom like you always do,

so you do. when you get off the couch, you make sure to stop and give mapi a long kiss. "you're adorable," you say when you pull away. enjoying the way her lips are slightly swollen. the spanish woman giggles, pecking your lips once more.

"you're even cuter," she says before leaving your side to go to the couch. immediately cuddling up to bagheera just like you were earlier.

you go into your bedroom, grab your pajamas, and then go into the bathroom. whether to shower with cold or hot water is a battle for you. the cold will make you have goosebumps. it'll shock you enough that for a quick second, you won't even think about this. but the hot water will burn your skin and warm up your heart that feel like it's already melting from the outside.

hot it is.

as the first few water droplets fall down onto your body, you let out a sigh. the warmth of the water feels so good but makes your mind feel so hazy, you hate it but you love it and damn you wish this wasn't happening right now.

maybe it wasn't.

maybe when you finish doing this and walk out of this bathroom, mapi wouldn't be a cheater. her password would be the same. ingrid, whoever she is, wouldn't even be in the equation. you would just go out there and cuddle with mapi like you always do, then go to sleep together like you always do then you two would go on a date and everything will be perfect like they always been.

has it always been perfect? how long has this cheating thing been going on? has mapi been cheating on the entire time? is mapi even trustworthy?

and what about ingrid? who is she? is she hotter than you? talks better than you? has a better job than you? is she some fucking bombshell who you can't even compare to?

why? when? how? who? why?

why the fuck would mapi do this to you?

"amor!" the voice of mapi shakes you out of your thoughts. she knocks on the bathroom door. when you don't reply right away, she says, "can i come in? i need to piss."

your mind moves slower than it should as you take in what she said. would it be wrong of you not to want her in here? not when you feel so vulnerable that it's like your skin was stripped off of you.

"uh.. i'll be out quick. can you wait? please?" you say. stumbling to start actually washing your body instead of just standing under the water.

mapi doesn't reply but moves away from the door. concern overtakes her mind as she goes back over to the couch. you two have been together for almost four years now. you have seen her in every way, and she has seen you every way, so what's so crazy about her using the bathroom while you shower? she thinks back to earlier when you asked her if she really thinks you're the prettiest woman she knows. the insecure tone you had didn't escape past her. is it because of that? if it is then why are you feeling insecure in the first place? mapi thinks over the last few months and nothing comes up for why you would feel that way.

unless you knew about ingrid, but you couldn't know about ingrid because mapi has been careful. she still has been the most loving girlfriend towards you, so nothing would be suspicious. of course, mapi hasn't been loving just because she wanted to make sure you didn't catch that she's sneaking behind your back, she genuinely still cares for you.

you definitely don't know about ingrid. this is just one of those times when you need extra reassurance which mapi is fine with giving.

she loves you.

she swears she does.

"you can go piss now," your voice pulls mapi out of the chaos that is currently her mind. in the time of her panicking and being concerned, you had finished showering and changed. now you're standing next to the couch. she smiles as her eyes land on you. "look at youu. all clean and cute," she says after standing up. you slightly flush at the compliment (even though you don't want to. it's a natural reaction, okay?)

"shut up and go piss." you giggle, moving past her to sit down on the couch. mapi playfully blows you a kiss before leaving out of the room. the interaction between you two should make your heart feel fond, but how can it when in the back of your mind is the reminder that mapi is probably acting this way with someone else when you aren't around. you wish you could blow away all of these feelings you have for her, but you can't so you just let bagheera come cuddle you.

and when mapi comes back into the living room, a large blanket in hand, you still cuddle up to her while you two watch cartoons. this is something you will definitely miss when you leave her. the thought of leaving mapi is not one you want to think about right now, so you push it to the side and snuggle up more to the spaniard.

it's easy to pretend everything is the same if you don't think about anything.

an hour later, you're laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling while mapi cuddles you. her head is on your chest, her arm around your waist. you can feel the gentle exhale and inhale of her body.

it should calm you. right now, you should be rubbing small circles on her back under her shirt. you should be kissing the top of her head at random until you let the clutches of sleep take you.

but you can't.

your body feels frozen as you lay there. how many times have mapi been like this with ingrid? the thought fills you up with dread, anger, sadness, disgust. jealousy.

what about her makes her so much better than you?

you haven't been giving mapi all the attention she deserves, but only because you're trying not to fail your classes in pre-med. staying on campus until late doesn't give you the same whimsy feeling as sitting around with mapi doing nothing or going out with mapi or just existing alongside her.

if only you could detach yourself right now.

if only this was one big misunderstanding.

if only this wasn't happening.

you wish you was stuck in a dream right now and all you had to do was shake yourself awake.

why?

maria, why?

you lay there for another hour, just letting your thoughts trample you, then you slip away. the sight of mapi cuddling up to the pillow that's supposed to be you makes you smile and want to cry.

you do cry.

as you step onto the balcony attached to the living room, phone in hand, the sound of ringing joining in the busy sounds of barcelona's nightlife.

"it's nearly one am and i have a eight am class tomorrow so this better be-"

"i saw a text," you interrupt her. you don't mean to, but you have been keeping this to yourself since you saw it.

daniela doesn't speak for a few minutes. you hear the shuffle of her covers and the click of a lamp being turned on. then she says, "from the chick she's cheating with?"

"her name is ingrid. mapi has a contact saved with a heart, a fucking heart. i couldn't see the entire text, right?" daniela says a small right. "so i tried to unlock her phone and she changed her password! mapi changed her password and i swear she has probably had the same password since like high-school because you know she can be forgetful and-"

"slow the fuck down. my brain can't keep up with all that, and you are working yourself up. calm down, y/n," daniela says. you stop talking, allowing yourself to just breathe for a minute, but that doesn't mean your blood stops boiling.

"i am trying to calm down but dani, my girlfriend is cheating on me for fucks sake!" you don't mean to shout at her, but you do. thankfully, you're outside, so mapi couldn't have heard you.

"okay! okay. alright, sorry," daniela sighs, "so you saw a text from some chick named ingrid, tried to see the full text, and couldn't get into mapi's phone because she changed her password?"

"yes.."

"okay, listen. this is what you're gonna do."

the next morning, you wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of jazz music playing. you slide out of bed and walk out into the living room to the sight of mapi looking pretty in the kitchen as she cooks. she's already dressed, unlike you. instead of immediately saying good morning, you just enjoy the sight for the few minutes that you do. this is something you will miss, so what's wrong with indulging a little?

mapi doesn't notice your presence right away, too distracted with the music, cooking, and her own singing. it's only when she turns to the kitchen island to change the song playing on her phone that she sees you. a smile blooms on her lips right away. "buenos dias, amor. how long have you been there?" mapi moves from in the kitchen to where you are in the living room.

"long enough to hear your horrible vocals," you say as she pulls you into her arms.

"they aren't," she pecks your lips, "horrible."

"i think our neighbors would disagree."

"they should be lucky i'm giving them a free performance. i could be the next-" you shut her up by kissing her. it starts off lazy, but soon you are more forceful; not for the usual reason, though. it's not passion driving you to press against mapi, but anger.

your almost make-out session is interrupted by the slight smell of burning. "shit, the bacon," mapi lets go of you before speed-walking to the kitchen.

she's able to cut off the stove before any of the bacon truly burns. thankfully, the fire alarm doesn't go off. your neighbors would really hate that. you walk over to the kitchen, going to lean against the kitchen island. you watch mapi as she plates breakfast for the two of you. now that you are actually standing in the kitchen instead of looking from afar, you can see mapi has cooked more than just bacon. there are toast and scrambled eggs as well. the warmth that suddenly blooms in your heart irks you and, at the same time, saddens you. this is a domestic scene that mapi and you have been in many times. the spanish woman loves to cook for you, but what's to say she doesn't love cooking for her little secret?

"thank you for all this, babe," you say when she hands your plate to you. mapi laughs off your thanks, saying something along the lines of i'm your girlfriend it's my job inbetween bites of bacon. usually, you two would sit at the dining table and eat, but today, yall opt for sitting at the kitchen island.

your shoulders rub against each other as you eat. of course, mapi yaps in between bites. mostly about all the activities she has planned for you two the entire day, how she hopes you are impressed, and that yall should match since it is a date day today. you keep up with her good enough. she has been your girlfriend for nearly four years now, after all. just responding back from time to time keeps her happy. mapi doesn't really need a reply to continue talking anyway, just your attention.

you finish eating before mapi (to neither of yours surprise), so you go to wash the dishes and let mapi play with bagheera for a bit. that only takes ten minutes or so then you are off to the bathroom to get ready for the day, making sure to kiss both of your girls before you do. bagheera lets out a meow when you leave her eyesight, but soon her attention is redirected elsewhere as mapi starts to rile her up.

when you step into the shower, all the emotions you were putting behind a lovesick mask can show themselves. the bitter taste that feels your mouth, the betrayal that burns your throat, the guilt that grips onto your shoulders. you shouldn't even be feeling guilty right now. not when mapi is the one who betrayed your loyalty. still, the sting of guilt lingers around your skin, burning you. in a perfect world, you would be feeling like shit for even thinking that mapi, your sweet, perfect, mapi was cheating. your bestfriend would shake your shoulders and say, "are you stupid? that woman is inlove with you." instead, you were met with okay, i would be suspicious too. you try to lift that dread that pools in your stomach by thinking about how fun this day is going to be,

and how you should savor it since it's going to be one of the last.

author notes: this is an lesson on how you shouldn't trust anyone's words.. JK but fr sorry for the cliffhanger, this was just getting way too long. part two coming soon 🩷 (this is not grammar checked bare with me yall)

#mapi leon x reader #fc barcelona x reader #woso x reader #woso angst

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cartierre · 1 year ago

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BRUTAL OUT HERE | op81

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU oscar piastri x fem!singer!reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)

side note: the way i used to dislike oscar and now i'm so immensely proud of what he's achieved is crazy. what a character arc of me.

♡ liked by conangray, oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter and 238,495 others

yourusername i am beyond the moon happy and proud to announce that my debut album is out now in store and on all music platforms! having worked on this for so long, it feels like seeing my little child grow up 🫶🏻 my team and i invested a lot of time and effort into this and i'm insanely excited for you to experience it. let me hear your thoughts and opinion on this! 💜

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user1 JUST LISTENED TO IT AND I AM NOT OKAY

user2 the way this captures the spirit of being a teenage girl so well ⤷ user3 she literally took my feelings and put it into words it's incredible

conangray i'm so proud of my babygirl comment liked by yourusername ⤷ yourusername ah stop! you helped me so much in the process, huge huge thank you for supporting me 🫶🏻😭 ⤷ user4 i love y/n's and conan's friendship so so much!

oscarpiastri 💜🖤 ⤷ user5 OSCAR?

♡ liked by conangray, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 201,394 others

tagged: conangray

yourusername the last few weeks have been absolutely crazy! i've recieved so much love and positive feedback for 'SOUR' ... i can't even describe how loved and appreciated i feel. i love you guys so much!

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user6 you deserve this so much!! your music makes me feel so many emotions, it's incredible

user7 can't believe how far you've come! been listening to your solos for so long and now you have a whole album aaahh ⤷ user8 remember when she used to upload covers on youtube?

oscarpiastri insanely proud! comment liked by yourusername

user9 oscar is being a bit suspicious these days i don't trust him ⤷ user10 lando is also liking sooo something is brewing in the paddock for sure

♡ liked by conangray, madisonbeer, oscarpiastri and 302,183 others

yourusername my first performance here in melbourne (my hometown) felt so fucking special i'm in tears from how amazing you guys were! my official tour dates are coming soon!

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user11 is it true that you and oscar are childhood friends ⤷ user12 what if they're dating ⤷ user13 what if sour is actually about him?

conangray ahhh i'm so proud of my bestie! comment liked by yourusername ⤷ yourusername couldn't have done it without your pep talk

user14 someone said sour is about oscar and y/n's former relationship? ⤷ user15 is this confirmed?

oscarpiastri what an amazing show 💜 comment liked by yourusername

♡ liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter and 328,283 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris

yourusername cat's out of the bag thanks to this dingus

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user16 no because it's kinda sweet they revealed their relationship during oscar's homerace (even if it was accidental) ⤷ user17 and her having had her first concert a week ago in melbourne as well (which he attended) like since when is melbourne so romantic like that

oscarpiastri i already told you i'm really really sorry ⤷ yourusername save your apology and gimme a kiss

landonorris great so now i see your annoying asses in real life AND on social media ⤷ yourusername haters gonna hate

user18 but... i wanna know who the album is about then ⤷ user19 real like babes let us knoooowwww

user20 i love childhood friends to lovers aaahh comment liked by yourusername

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au

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tealvenetianmask · 4 months ago

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I want to think a little about Blitz's self-perception with regard to his lack of education/sophistication. In my opinion, HB gives us a very accurate portrayal of what it feels like to navigate relationships when you're a person with a long history of feeling like you're never good enough ("I can always do better").

Let's start with his friendship with Moxxie, though like a lot of my posts, it will find its way back to stolitz.

Moxxie doesn't necessarily have more formal education than Blitz. I mean . . . he likely had the economic resources growing up, but I don't think Crimson seems like the kind of parent to prioritize education. Besides an education in violence. I assume that both Blitz and Moxxie had some basic education as kids, but the difference is that Moxxie likes "high culture(ish)" things like musicals and bow ties, enjoys knowing details about history, and probably reads for fun. He's also the kind of ". . . um actually . . ." friend who can make even a secure person feel a little stupid. Not that Blitz doesn't sometimes need to be called out, but Moxxie does seem to take some joy in correcting him.

And yes, Blitz bullies Moxx and calls his junk tiny and tells him to eat a salad, but like . . . it's pretty obvious that to some extent, Blitz is covering up for feeling inferior to Moxxie on some level.

We see how Blitz really feels about this in Truth Seekers.

Borrowed observation from excellent reaction youtuber Omn1media: When Blitz hallucinates Moxxie lecturing him, Moxxie goes really hard specifically on the insults to Blitz's intelligence. Moxxie's speech is also much more rambly/laced with figurative language than it is in their real (non-imagined) interactions.

We can see from Blitz's face in these scenes that these comments really get to him. Of course they do- he's making them up in his own nightmare.

"Foolish flights of fancy" is the rest of the caption there . . ."

He's very upset by the idea that he's really inferior to Moxxie- under all of the bravado, he's deeply insecure. It probably doesn't help that the truth gas made him admit that he didn't like the musical that Moxx recommended. Yes, I know that was a Cats joke, but also, Blitz bothered to lie, and he doesn't seem allergic to hurting Moxxie's feelings, so I think he wanted to pretend to "get" the "higher art" that Moxxie likes.

Okay so if Moxxie (with an essentially equivalent status and education) manages to unintentionally make Blitz feel stupid and uncultured, how does this translate when Blitz falls in love with Stolas, who IS objectively very high status and very well educated and DOES speak in "fancy rich people" language?

Oh. Right. The pedestal, the impossibility, and all of that.

I'm not saying that Hell's strict hierarchy doesn't have a lot to do with how Blitz perceives a real relationship between himself and Stolas as impossible- it absolutely does. And so does his history of failed relationships and heaping backpack of trauma. But also, the education/sophistication piece is there, and it's major.

I'm on the fence about whether Blitz actually sees himself as stupid or is just worried about being perceived that way by others. He obviously knows he's very good at the work he does, and that takes both a certain level of strategic thinking AND some very brilliant improvisation. I think he knows this. But he also knows he'll never . . . let's say, be the best read person in the room (if you want to know my thoughts on Blitz and literacy, click here- but short answer, I think he's quite literate but also dyslexic).

I think that like many real people who are kind of out of the box in this way (disrupted education and/or neurodivergence) he's simultaneously aware that he's very intelligent AND deeply insecure about being stupid or having others devalue his kind of intelligence.

#my helluva meta #blitzo buckzo #blitz #blitzo #helluva boss #stolitz #stolas #moxxie

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magniloquent-raven · 2 months ago

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Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends

and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.

(read on ao3)

The 118 doesn't have a baby box.

In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.

So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.

He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.

So, they don't have a box. But.

Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.

Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.

Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.

Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.

Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.

There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.

Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.

"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.

Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?

Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.

Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.

Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.

It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.

"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.

"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.

"...What was that?"

"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."

—

Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.

Tommy promised he'd come get her.

Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.

He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.

Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.

In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.

He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.

She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)

"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"

Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.

"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."

Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."

Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."

"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."

Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."

Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."

"Okay, but—"

"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"

"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"

"I found him polishing the engine."

Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"

He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.

He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.

Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.

His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.

Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.

When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.

"Mmn...y'know. For being you."

Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."

"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.

Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.

Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.

"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."

"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.

Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.

She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.

Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.

The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.

She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.

God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.

"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.

"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."

"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.

"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.

He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.

Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.

"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."

"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."

The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.

Well. Alright.

"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."

"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"

Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.

Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.

He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.

The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.

"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."

"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.

"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—

"I love you so much," he says in a rush.

"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."

Buck huffs a laugh.

"And I love you too."

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #a raven's writing desk #technically also inspired by a tumblr post but #just the general idea of buck finding a kitten while he's at work?#i was originally gonna have gerrard feature and have some ''oh no we have to hide the kitten'' hijinks #but i didnt feel like bringing him into it lmao #wanted to focus more on the Supportive Boyfriend Tommy angle and them being like well i guess we're dads now lmao

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jellipuff · 10 months ago

Text

Pretty.

Pairing: Sub!Mingyu x reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

Wordcount: 4.2k

Summary: His interest in you was shocking. Star player Mingyu crushing on you? Who knew two years later that calling him pretty was all that was needed for him to fall deeper and who knew for him to get his way all he had to be was pretty? Short answer: you both knew.

Warnings: sub!mingyu!!, established relationship, football player mingyu, idk if this is gn!reader but i don’t think i mention anything too gender-related, Slight pwp, this is literally just reader fingerfucking Gyu with a side of fluff, anal play (m receiving), he's so spoiled, and a lil slutty, reader records them, slight exhibitionism(no one walks in but there are people in the house while they do this), mingyu just can't be quiet no matter how much he tries to say he can :(, reader teases gyu bc he’s cute, he just wants to be called pretty 24/7. (i think that's it?)

A/n: this is my first time writing in forever & my first time writing for svt. I can barely find any sub!svt fics especially mingyu so I thought let me write em myself 🙄. I hope its okay though LOL. also if you don't like it, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

You and Mingyu have been together since sophomore year. You both go to the same college and shared a few classes that year. Classes that weren't too important but important enough for it to affect your grade, school is just like that.

You heard about him in freshman year. He was admired by those around him for his athleticism in football. Quickly becoming one of the best players resulting in him being liked by not only his team but others as well. You didn't really know him then though, not caring to honestly. He was a wonderful football player, the crowd around him either being the same or being interested in it.

Oh, and interested in him.

Mingyu is a stunner, his looks giving him many opportunities in more ways than one. You would hear about how good in bed he was from people talking a bit too loudly in a library. When you’d go to parties with your friends you'd also see how people would try to get his attention. You’d watch as women threw themselves at him in hopes of being the one he takes to bed that night.

So you could see how you were surprised when he seemed to show interest in you.

You're not knocking yourself, you're beautiful and your personality shines just as much. It's just you and mingyu don't seem to have any compatibility if the things you know about him are anything to go by. “He manhandled me so well”, “Our first date was to see the new Fast & Furious.”, “He's so handsome.”

Sure none of those things are bad per se. You just know yourself well enough to know that when you think about mingyu just a little longer than you should that you want to manhandle him.

That if you were to go on a first date you'd want to take him to a cat cafe just to see how this puppy of a man would interact with them. That when you look at mingyu you know he is handsome but you can only seem to think he’s so pretty.

When you got paired together in two of your classes for a project you didn't know if you were fine with it or not. You don't know his work ethic or how his grades are, he shows up to class every day but does he actually care about his grades?

Though as he smiled brightly on his way over to you when your names were called together for the second time that day, you didn't seem to care too much about any of those things.

“Seems like fate huh?” he says with a grin as he sits by you. “What does?” you ask while pulling up a blank PowerPoint. “Us being a couple.” he says flirtatiously and you can't help but give him a look. “You mean us being project partners.” you reprimand but he waves you off.

“Same thing as what I said, either way, it happened twice. So that means it's fate.” he says taking your pink glitter pen to write both your names on the paper you were given. You watch as he draws a little smiling puppy and then a grumpy cat side by side underneath. He turns to you with a pretty smile, pleased at his artwork.

“Look it's us! You’re the grumpy cat.” he giggles and you think if he weren't so cute you'd tell him to find a different partner. Yet you don't tell him that nor do you tell him that this professor only allows blue or black ink.

You think that's the first time you realized maybe you got mingyu all wrong. Maybe he isn't just a jock who watches Fast and Furious and is strong in bed. You also realize this another time.

You and mingyu were doing your meet-up at his place. When he told you he has roommates you almost wanted to cancel on him. An apartment lived in by men sadly only filled your mind with overthinking.

What if it stunk? What if his room was messy? What if his roommates were creepy? You'd like to think mingyu wouldn't let them be weird toward you and that sedates your worries slightly.

As you walk into his place though you’re met with the smell of food cooking and shouting in the living room. Walking in further you see a game of Mario Kart being played and the smell is from the spaghetti being cooked by a man who smiles when he sees Mingyu.

The atmosphere was nice, leaving you to relax a bit from before. Mingyu introduced you to them all, telling them you're going into his room to work on a project not to fuck as his friend Seungkwan had joked. The way mingyu seemed to be flustered at his friend's joke is what leaves you amused.

The thought of him getting shy at being accused of something he is apparently good at and known for is cute. You learn the man cooking is Joshua, and you compliment him on the smell. He laughs; thanking you before saying “For once Mingyu’s crush has good taste.” he teases and Mingyu freezes.

He looks at you with wide eyes cheeks flushing at Joshua's slip of the tongue. “He’s just joking like he jokes like that a lot you know.” he hurries to say and you feel amused. “Uh huh.” you reply and Mingyu feels the need to make you believe he does not like you because what if you find that weird? You haven't shown interest in him at all.

“Yeah, he's dumb you know cause like I could never have a crush on you so what is he even saying?” he finishes with an awkward laugh. He doesn't see the way your smile falls and the way Joshua watches the whole thing unfold in horror. Feeling the need to check if his tall friend hit his head somewhere.

When mingyu does look back at you though he's met with a look he can't read but one that makes him feel like he wants to sink into the floor. “Let's just get this over with okay?” you say coldly and he feels like crying.

Sure he can handle heavy tackles, can handle sometimes getting bad grades, and can handle everyone thinking of him in ways that he isn’t. Right here and right now though? Mingyu realizes he can't handle feeling anything from you that isn't your usual warm sarcasm or soft smile. He realizes that seeing you dismiss him so seriously hurts him, it makes him small in a bad way.

So when you both get to his room and work in silence he thinks he'd rather die from embarrassment at the confession he's going to give than die from the pain of having you not glance his way once in the past hour.

“Um..you know I didn't mean that.” You don't look up when you hum in confusion instead focusing on the information you’re typing. “When I said that I could never have a crush on you I…I didn’t mean that because I do…have a crush on you.” he admits shyly but he doesn't look away. Needing you to understand that what he said earlier couldn't be further from true.

For what seems like forever you finally look at him and just your gaze makes his stomach feel funny. You stare at him, watching him try his hardest to not look away. Seeing his hands fidget from you observing him silently.

You think that right now mingyu looks the prettiest he ever has. His eyes not leaving yours to show his sincerity, blush covering from his ears to his cheeks, and knees to his chest. Leaving his feelings on the table must be scary for him. You know how mingyu feels about this.

He’s told you a few times how people always think they know what he likes, how he feels, and what he thinks. So he never says them, and never is honest with those who aren't close to him. Knowing that with others it's more like they set up what he should like, feel, and think.

Mingyu watches you smile, the warmest one he’s seen from you. Just that alone has him feeling better and then you shock him. “You're so pretty Gyu.” you say with so much admiration he short circuits.

Pretty? You think he's pretty? He's handsome he knows that everyone always tells him that but.. Pretty? Mingyu has never been associated with that and he feels fuzzy at it.

“Pretty?” he questions aloud and you hum with no hesitation “So pretty.” you repeat and mingyu suddenly feels shy, feeling the need to giggle. “You like being called pretty?” you ask endeared and he nods scooting closer to you. “Yeah, I like it.”

─﹒☆﹒─

However, dating mingyu for two years has left you being pleasantly surprised constantly. So when you figure out your boyfriend wants you to take him here with people around, you think for what feels like the millionth time that you’re surprised again.

You hear the laughter and bickering outside of the room. The only thing blocking you from all of the noise is the bedroom door or should you say that the door is the only thing blocking them from you.

Your attention is only focused on the boy who has your shirt fisted tightly as he brings you down to kiss him deeper. You feel him trying to bring his groin closer to your thigh but failing because you keep it too far. He whines again after another failed attempt at feeling something against him.

You pull back from the kiss with a grin, adoration all you feel for the pretty boy beneath you. “No, want more kisses.” he mewls, trying to pull you back down but you don't budge. “But kisses weren't part of the deal, baby.” You remind him and he looks away annoyed at the agreement he agreed to.

Here on a trip with your boyfriends teammates, friends and some of their partners was a joy. Loving being able to go with him somewhere different even if it's not too far from home. It's the fun that comes from enjoying time with him and being able to see him be complimented by his team.

His efforts and talent being highlighted always leave him with high cheeks that glow from smiling too hard. They all are happy right now. Winning games back to back with a few struggles they overcame felt like a blessing.

Just like having Mingyu underneath you with his cock leaking from just a few kisses is a blessing.

Having to split up into two Airbnbs leaves you and Mingyu with others in the house. Mingyu knew that yet he kept trying to gain your attention. He knew he already had it but he wanted your attention in another way.

You first caught onto his little game when he wore a pair of shorts that he knew you loved on him. The way they hug his hips and leave little to imagine at his thighs never fails to make you want to take him right there.

The thing is though Mingyu only wears those in your apartment. He never wears them anywhere else so there would be no need for him to pack them.

When he noticed you staring at him while he looked through the dresser for something he smiled at you before quickly changing. Saying ‘Oh must have accidentally packed these.” While laughing. Yet the throbbing in your core wasn't funny at all.

“Don't be annoyed baby, you were the one to agree, no?” You ask; sliding his underwear down his legs. “Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be this mean.” You smile, enjoying his sulking.

“Mean? Weren't you the one stringing me along all day baby? Until you finally caved in from your own game. Dragging me to the bathroom just begging for me to play with you. And what did I say?” you question watching his ears flush.

“You..you said only if you get to do what you want.” he replies, causing you to smile. “Mhmm and you said I could do anything I wanted, touch you wherever I would like. Do you remember where I said I wanted to touch you?” you ask and he goes quiet, feeling shy.

He doesn’t answer, head still turned away from you. That just won't do, will it?

You grab his chin, turning his face so he can look at you. “Where did I say I wanted to touch Mingyu?” you repeat harsher. Needing to hear him say it out loud. His eyes stay locked on yours before he says “My butt.” he says quietly and you hum, feeling turned on by how he seems so bashful despite this not being abnormal for you both.

“Good boy. You dragged me to the bathroom just to be told I want to see you spread open for me. You wanna know why?” he nods, wanting to hear you tell him. Yet he feels so needy he beats you to it. “Cause it's pretty, you said I'm prettiest when I take you well.” he answers for you.

You pat his cheek before moving down the bed. “That's right baby, so pretty when you're full of me. So pretty when you take anything I give you.”

You wish mingyu would have packed your strap, would have thought to bring at least a dildo in his lust-hazed mind but he didn't. So you'll just have to finger fuck him until you feel satisfied.

You grab the lube that Mingyu didn't forget to pack while leaning down to kiss him. “Color?” you ask and he smiles. “Green, just wish I could take something bigger” he pouts and you laugh softly at the confession. “Then you wouldn't be able to be quiet, so be thankful.” his brows furrow in offense. “I'm not that loud, I can be quiet.” he defends. “Well guess you better prove that now then huh?”

You take his hand in yours before kissing the back of it. You guide his hand underneath his right knee, leaning over to do the same with the left. Tapping his thigh to signal for him to pull them back and hold them closer to himself. He understands quickly, leaving him bare to the cold air and bare to you.

You rub your middle finger on his rim lightly causing him to sigh. Moving to open the lube you apply some to his hole and your fingers. “I'm going to put one in okay baby?” you alert him and he shakes his head. “Two.” you look up at him in disbelief.

“No, I need to prep you, don’t be greedy.” You tell him causing him to whine. “Two! I need something bigger. I can take it, I always take it well.” “Mingyu–” you try to chide.

“Please love, haven't been full in so long. Need to feel you stretch me, miss it.” he bats his lashes, already knowing he has you where he wants you. All he has to do is say a few sweet words, be pretty, and you’d do anything he requests.

“Just tell me if it hurts okay?” you sigh and he smiles, feeling spoiled.

You go back to rubbing his hole a few times before stopping. He looks to see why but you don't meet his gaze. Lust clouding your vision. You need to record him, need to make sure you get a video of him like this. “Gotta film you baby, gotta save it. Is that okay?” you question and he nods.

Loving the feeling of you thinking he’s lovely enough to photograph, lovely enough to be recorded for you to look back on.

You grab your phone from the nightstand before kneeling back on the bed. You open the camera before pressing record. Wasting no time, you slowly inch your two fingers into his hole, watching the way it grips your fingers tightly. You hear Mingyu moan softly, the feeling of you inside him too little but too much at the same time.

“It's pretty?” he asks sweetly and you groan quietly. His warmth surrounds your fingers making your brain feel like it's surrounding you. Making you feel like it's you filling him up, not your fingers, and god how you wish it was.

“Yes baby, it's pretty. All of you is so pretty.” he smiles pulling his legs higher. You point the camera from where your fingers move inside of him up onto his torso and face. Moving faster when you see him look up into the camera.

“Look at you, legs spread wide all for me. What do you think the others would think if they walked in here and saw you like this? Big boy Mingyu, the best player on the team getting his ass played with. Do you think they'd close the door? Or do you think they’d see just how pretty you are?”

His cock jumps at the thought of everyone thinking he's pretty. He only needs to be pretty for you but the thought of them saying it to him makes him groan. At the thought of his teammates, his eyes leave the camera to look at the door, eyeing the knob hoping it's locked only to see it's not.

“Oh no, you forgot to lock the door baby? It's almost like you want them to come in.” you accuse and he shakes his head. Hips starting to rock down to meet where your fingers move just a little faster, still much too slow for him. It leaves him wanting, leaves him jumping at every slide he does get to feel of your fingers on his prostate.

He knows you're missing it on purpose. He knows that you’re only hitting it when you want to and that makes him needier. Makes him have to guess which stroke is going to have to make him bite his lip to quiet his sounds.

You lean back pointing the camera to be focused on his hole as you take your fingers out. He whines at the loss, his hole feeling too empty. His cock lays hard against his stomach, tip flushing pretty against his tan skin. You slide three fingers back into him, the third adding a stretch that mingyu craved.

The stinging is so pleasurable it has him moaning your name. You and your touch are the only thing plaguing his mind.

“You gotta be quiet baby remember? I haven't even touched your dick yet and you're being loud. It's like you want everyone to hear you. Like you want them to walk in and watch.”

He shakes his head quickly even though his cock jumps at the idea. “No!” he whines. You shake your head in faux disappointment. Lifting the camera to his face, his glossy eyes finding it quickly. “Baby told me he’d be quiet and I believed him. Yet he’s such a slut for his ass being stuffed that he can't shut up.” you chastise.

“I c..can be quiet.” he stutters lowly. “Yeah?” you ask and he nods, going to respond yet cut off by you finding the spot that has his back arching off the bed.

You don't relent your movements only seeming to increase. He can't help but cry out, the sounds leaving him bounce off the walls causing you to feel aflame

“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty.” you groan. He doesn’t answer instead putting his hand over his mouth as you abuse his prostate nonstop, his thighs shaking yet never faltering from their position. “Grab your cock Gyu, don't you think it'd feel good baby?” You order him and he looks up at you nervously.

If he takes his hand off his mouth he doesn't think he’d be able to be silent especially if he jerks himself off while you finger him.

Though that's what you want.

You want to see him cum, want to see his jaw slack and cock twitch when he makes a mess of himself. To hear him cry your name out because that's all that pops into his pretty little head. He removes his hand from his mouth slowly, bringing it down to hold his cock: unmoving. “Go on baby.” his eyes flicker from the camera to his cock before pumping it slowly.

The feeling makes him sigh. Your fingers slow down so as to not overwhelm him. “Feel good?” you question and he looks back to you. Pink lips shining and eyes glossy. “Yeah..” he trails off quietly. You smile, your panties left wet from this.

His effort, his beauty, his warmth, all of it makes you go crazy.

You pick up your pace again. Fingers fucking against his prostate unrelenting causing pleasure to overtake him so fast he almost forgets how to stroke his cock. You smile as his hand stutters and his eyes roll back. You look at the camera seeing the way his sweat makes his skin shine.

“What's wrong Gyu? Why’d you stop?” you question, voice laced with faux confusion. He looks up into the camera. His face is so pretty you think you could cum just from seeing him like this.

Even though he's not necessarily staring at you it feels like he only sees you, the phone not even in his vision.

“Can’t Y/n, can't.” he cries out. His lip quivering, he feels so good, loves you so much. He needs your help. Only you know how to ruin him so good, touch him in a way he never can. “Need my help baby?” You inquire and he nods.

His brain is too fuzzy, all he wants is for you to make him cum. Wants to feel your touch everywhere. You grab his cock tightly before pumping him quickly. “Yes, yes..“ he moans out. Hands pulling his thighs closer, hoping maybe it'll let him feel you more.

Suddenly the noise from in the house gets louder, cheering for something unknown being heard. “What do you think they'd say if they knew they were in our video baby? Knew that their voices could be heard while I film me fingerfucking you?” you question before squeezing him tighter. Strokes gliding easily from how messy he already is.

“Ahhh, good s’good!” he moans. Not caring about how his voice is getting louder and how the house is suddenly getting quieter.

“Y/n…y/n!” he cries hips moving up and down. Trying to pull more pleasure from wherever he can get it. “Close baby?” you ask lowly.

“Mmm! feels good, feels so good. Wish it was deeper.” he whimpers out. “I’ll just have to keep you stretched till we go home tomorrow then huh? Then I’ll fuck you deep baby, make you feel me here.” You press your palm on his stomach and the action sends him over the edge.

His stomach tenses and his eyes open to find yours once more. He needs to see you while he cums, to see how you look down at where his cum lands on his stomach while some drips down your hand.

Your name falls from his lips in a sob, letting the whole house know who makes him feel like this. Letting them know who makes star football player Mingyu sound like this.

You take your fingers out of his hole he whines at the slide of them. Pointing the camera to where his hole is now empty. Watching as he clenches around nothing as if to entice you back in. You moan at the sight, such a pretty hole on your pretty boy. You turn the camera off, throwing your phone to the side.

“Was I pretty?” he asks when you lean over him to kiss his neck. “The prettiest.” you admit truthfully. He giggles, loving how you see him.

“Want more kisses now.” he pleads and you smile moving to look down at him “You weren't quiet.” you jokingly remind him. Mingyu whines, feeling frustrated from his lack of kisses. “Don't care. You like it when everyone knows how much of a mess you make me. So shh and give me my kisses.” he vocalizes pulling you closer to him.

You laugh and kiss him lovingly. His lips are always soft and inviting as you press yours to his. Neither of you moves back until your lungs beg for air.

He leans up for one more peck before laying back against the pillows with a pretty grin. “So what I’m hearing is you weren't even trying to be quiet.” you tease; standing up and helping him lean against the headboard. You help him put his clothes on so you can head to the shower. Sure the bathroom is right across the hall but you don't want to risk the chance of someone seeing Mingyu walking; ass out.

“I was trying.” he replies causing you to roll your eyes. “Sure gyu.” You don't even have to look at him to see his leg bounce. “I was!” you only laugh at his insistence.

“Whatever just be quiet from here to the bathroom, then maybe I’ll give you more kisses.” You open the door and look over your shoulder to see him close behind, mouth shut. You giggle at his cuteness.

He knows it's an empty threat, He’s just too pretty that you'd give him anything no matter what he does.

You both know that.

#mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu #dom!reader #svt x dom!reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #svt x reader #sub!svt #svt smut #svt fluff #sub!idol #svt imagines #svt fanfic

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patrophthia · 1 year ago

Note

hii! I really loved your stories! can you write something about theo×hufflepuff again? I don't have any preferences, whathever comes to you mind (well maybee some enemies/don't like each other at the begging haha) thank u))

wanted to do rivals to lovers but i failed, like really badly so here’s just fluff with theo envying reader a teensy bit

make it make sense | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, meet cute, established relationships, tasm reference (just cuz)

part of my 1k celebration event !

You and Theodore makes no sense. Not to your friends, not to his friends, not to anyone —Merlin, not even yourselves.

How the two of you got today is and will always be a story Theodore could never wrap his head around.

At first glance, the two of you are direct opposites. A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin made absolutely no sense at first sight. And it’s exactly what he thought when his feelings towards you —which were, at first, resentment and envy (you were doing better in classes than he was and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him) turns to fascination, and maybe even adoration.

Not in a weird way, of course. Not in a way where he’d stare at you from across the room where you’re sitting, chatting with your friends with a pretty on your face before accidentally meeting his eyes and making him avert his gaze kind of way. Or well —maybe it was. You were beautiful, can you blame him?

Not only were you beautiful, you were also kind. So incredibly kind, hardworking, and your sense of justice is so strong you knocked him off his feet. Literally.

The first time he talked to you —really talked to you— was when you body slammed him to the ground whilst chasing someone who’d had picked on your friend. It sounds cliche and sometimes, when he feels an overwhelming urge to kiss you; he deflects it by joking about how you ‘fell’ for him.

You were quick to pick yourself up off of him, eyes wide as you helped him back to his feet with repetitive apologies. “I’m sorry, I really should’ve looked where I was going but I was so worried that he’d get away (and he did) that I bumped into you.

Are you okay though? Should I bring you to the infirmary? What’s your name? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Theodore fixes his attention on you. “I’m fine, let’s not bother Madam Pomfrey about this,” he says first, then he glances between you and your fingers, eyes glinting with ridicule, “Zero.”

He’s messing with you. That’s . . . A relief. Unless he actually couldn’t tell that you’re holding up fo—

“Four,” he tells you anyways, he then adds. “Nott.”

“What?”

“My names Nott.” He tells you.

And you smile at him. You’re kind enough to smile at him even when he’s coming off as a bit of an arse to you, you still smile at him. “Oh I know,” you say, “just wanted to make sure you knew it too.”

He blinks at you. Slowly. So slow that it almost resembles a cat’s blinking. “Well, I do.”

“Good.” He’s still looking at you. And you’re still looking at him. Neither of you wanting to go back to your separate lives just yet. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Theodore wills himself to not show any real reaction to your words, only keeping stoic as he answers. “I’m not,” he says, “are you asking to make sure I knew it too?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to know.”

And you leave. So suddenly that Theodore has to stare at your leaving figure for a good three minutes before finally pulling himself back together.

So maybe the two of you made no sense being with one another, but it’s been like that from the start —how you left him standing there will forever be a core memory for him— and he’s more than just content to be in love with you now. And if he’s being honest, does things making sense matter when you’re in love?

Not in his books.

#oh yeah cuties Peter and Theodore i love me my losers #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #🧳: my writing #🍰: 1k with patro!

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libraford · 1 year ago

Text

Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.

On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.

I approach.

Lady: "These aren't mine."

I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.

So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.

I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.

I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.

I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.

So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...

A black pigeon.

Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.

Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?

So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.

We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.

Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...

...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.

The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.

The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.

They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.

The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:

"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"

I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.

"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"

The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"

We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.

"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.

"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."

"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."

She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."

"Hm. Well. Note to self."

"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."

#parks and wrecks #life as a temporary twig pig

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ilylovelyz · 1 year ago

Text

Me Quiero Enamorar.

pair : bakugou x afab!reader

warning(s) : just soft, soft baku soft baku, loving sex, a lil angsty, hospital sex?, semi-public sex, mentions of injuries, biting, unprotected sex, hair pulling, this is more fluff than smut 😭

bakugou wants many things. he wants to be #1. he wants to be the best. he wants to do, be and have many things. but one of the things he wants the most, is you. bakugou loves you dearly. although he's not very upfront with how deep his love is for you, his love is everlasting and sincere. he's had many girlfriends before, but you're different. you can actually put up with his ego and intolerant attitude with a laugh, not wasting a second to insult him back.

no, you're so much more different than that. you're genuine, you're not fake and "all smiles," like some of these chumps claim to be. you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and never hesitate to say it how it is. he used to be annoyed by how emotional and bratty you are, but now, boy, does he really admire you for it. it's not something he can easily do, he'd rather die than cry in front of an audience, but you do it so easily it's like second nature.

you're different, because you love him. you love him for who he is. you don't try to conform or change him, nor do you ever get scared of his random tantrums and odd behaviors. you actually hear him out during one of his long rants, even if you disagree. what he loves most is that you're upfront when you don't like something, but you're not necessarily pushy with it either. you simply inform him why you disagree with something he's said. god, does that "nerdy" aspect of your personality lead to many deep conversations late in the night.

you're different, because he loves you so much, sometimes he's afraid to loose you. it's a worry that has him thinking late at night. his fingers are mindlessly twirling your soft locks in his hair, eyes staring at nothing at in particular. what if one day you'd leave him because of his own flaws? he'd never admit those thoughts, but somehow you find out either way. you'd take his cheeks into your palms, gently holding him like he's fine china, like he's the one who would cry any minute.

"don't be so silly. if i can handle these bastards, then i can certainly handle you."

oh, how earlier you were a feet away from death's door. such a big statement from a small fragile girl from you. he should've known he'd have to take your words with a grain of salt, as of now, you're laying in a hospital bed with bandages covering 60% of your body.

he mindlessly kisses the back of your hands, gently holding your hands in his own. he's also injured, but that doesn't matter, you're what matters to him. all he wants to hear right now is that you'll be okay, and that you're going to walk out of this hospital with him eventually. even though you are reassuring him with the little strength you have, the ghostly grip your hands can muster has him maybe not taking you seriously.

"'katsu'.." you rasped, bandaged hand coming up to the swell of his cheek. the low eyes he's fronting has you knowing what he's thinking. he's quiet, almost having not said a word in a record-time of 10 minutes. his face is relaxed, almost showing no emotion at all. you take this opportunity to focus on the small details of his face. it's almost unfair, a boy like him shouldn't have such perfect skin.

like a cat, he leans into your hand, seeking the warmth of your body. the soft illumination of the moon is the only light you have. he snuck out to your room, after all the nurses didn't allow him to do so much as sit up. his calloused hand comes up to your wrist, mouth placing gentle kisses on the tips of your fingers, palm and wrist. he's trailing soft pecks up and down your bandages before you wrap your fingers around his shirt's collar, softly guiding him up closer to you and your bed.

he silently abided, eyes full of confusion before he knowingly leans in for a kiss on the lips. the kiss is slow paced, almost still, like two slow dancers. he pulls a few inches away from you, eyes almost closed as he basks in your close presence before you're pulling him back in again, deepening the kiss. it's not long before finally climbs onto the bed in defeat. arms caged around your head, one of his arms is propped on it's elbow for support while his other free hand softly holds your jaw.

he wants to be like this with you forever. he just wants to play with your stupid hair, with you healthily laying stupidly content in a stupid bed. but he can't have that. all he gets right now is him playing with your stupid damaged hair, with you stupidly being injured, in a stupid damn hospital bed.

when you try to slip your tongue between his lips, it has him shaking his head in disagreement. no. you're too injured and fragile right now. he pulls away to diffuse the sexual tension, eyes watching with guilt as you whine like a child for his attention and touch.

but how could he? how could he muster to touch you intimately when he literally felt the warmth get sucked right out of your then limp and battered body less than 24 hours ago? of course he wants to. he would never resist you, but right now, just isn't the right time.

he's about to pull away from you entirely and call it a night when he stops in his tracks after you cry out his name, pain and sadness evident in your voice. "katsuki, i want you, please."

god, he wants you too.

⋆｡°✩

he slowly sinks his cock into you, taking his sweet time, wanting to feel you forever and ever. his nose is snug with your neck, inhaling your sweet, almost toxic scent. you mewl out his name, asking for him to go deeper. he abides to your request, hips rocking into yours, his cock's tip kissing your cervix.

you claw at his back, leaving angry red marks on his back bones and shoulders. his shirt has been thrown off somewhere, leaving his bare torso naked. your hands explore his skin, you've done it many times before, but you still cannot but help to run your hands along the harsh defined lines of his toned muscles.

he leaves soft kisses on your neck, tongue licking and sucking on your sensitive vein. his hands remain on your waist, occasionally squeezing when you clench around him so nicely it has him holding back a groan. he wonders how the nurses haven't found out already. or maybe they already know, which is why no nurse has came in to check in on you.

who knows, who cares. one of his hands come up to your breast, massaging the mound and pinching your sensitive bud. you arch your back in response, pushing yourself impossibly closer to him. his hands lightly push you back against the bed. "relax, i'll take care of you." he whispers, laying a chaste kiss onto your jawline.

he leans up for a minute to hook one of his arms underneath one of your knees, bending it upwards for a better position. the new position has you gasping out, hands clawing at bakugou's poor shoulders and biceps. he pays no mind to the scratches on his already injured body, if they are from you, then it's okay. he wouldn't mind if one of your scratches turned into a long lasting scar.

his focus is distracted when you clench impossibly tighter around him. he throws his nose back into your neck, trying to hide his low moans and expressions. you wrap your arms around his neck, embracing him as your orgasm comes closer with every rock of his hips.

"katsu'.." you cry out, hand coming up to pull on the roots of his hair, earning a low grunt. he hums in response, already knowing to bring his hand down to your clit, rubbing tight circles onto your puffy bud. within a few seconds, your hands dig small crescents into his back, eyes clenched shut in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you.

he comes to a full stop as your walls clench down on him almost painfully, biting down onto your shoulder as his own orgasm takes over him, grunting as he spills into you.

the two of you bask in each other's presence following your orgasms. he's careful not to put his full body weight on top of you as he lays his head against your chest, eyes lulling closed as he listens to the faint melody that is your heart.

as you play with his hair, his arm comes up to rest over your stomach. your heart hums him to sleep. he loves you, he loves this. he just wants you, and he wants something like this, forever and ever.

if you liked my work, please leave a like and repost w/ tags :)

#my hero academia #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki smut #my hero academia smut #my hero academia angst #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou x reader smut #bakugou katsuki fluff #my hero academia fluff #my hero academia x reader #⨳ soft sex

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softspiderling · 9 months ago

Text

think you're a genius (you drive me up the wall) | r.c.

summary: it wouldn't be an outer banks party if there wasn't at least one fist fight. also, rafe is trying to turn over a new leaf.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 3,8k

warning: mention of blood, violence (reader gets punched in the face, but there are no graphic details), shitty topper (sorry top)

author's note: long awaited (at least by me) rafe fic, whoop whoop!!! no usage of Y/N, happy reading, don't forget to reblog!!! also tagging @sunderlust bc i borrowed some of our conversation in this fic😘love you sol

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

“Since when do you drink beer?”

Barely pausing at the words, you continued to stack cold beer cans in your arms, the condensation dripping onto your skin. You didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, having heard it so many times. And this was his house after all.

“Wasn’t aware you kept track of my drink of choice,” you retorted, turning around to face him, while simultaneously trying to balance the cans.

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze lowered to the beer in your arms. “… You trying to tell me that all that beer’s for you?”

“You calling me a lightweight?”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth ticked up and he took a sip from his drink, the ice clinking in the glass.

“I think we both know I’m not.”

If someone had told you that one day you’d be standing in the parlor of Tannyhill, having a mostly civil conversation with Rafe you’d have them institutionalized. But things have changed. When Sarah returned with the news that Ward has died protecting Sarah, Rafe imploded at first. Blaming her for his death, the downfall of their family and generally being ungrateful for Ward’s love for her.

Everyone avoided the Cameron estate for a while, hearing stuff crash and yells from a mile away. No one dared to step close. A few days after, the disturbances stopped, being replaced with complete silence.

It was so silent, you actually grew concerned until Rafe turned up at Heyward’s setting up a weekly grocery delivery. Pope had dumped the stuff he was holding as soon as Rafe had stepped into the store, storming outside, with Cleo hot on his heels, leaving you to set up the standing order.

“Can you tell Sarah I’m sorry?”

“What?”

You looked up from the register and Rafe clenched his jaw, giving you a look.

“You really gon’ make me say it again?”

“How about you call her yourself instead of making me deliver your message like a post boy?”

Rafe exhaled deeply, knitting his eyebrows together like he was really trying not to explode and honestly, you had to respect him for that. You know how impatient he could be.

“I tried, okay? Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve tried to call her, she’s not picking up. Fuck, I don’t even know if she still has the same phone number,” he said, like the words physically pained him. “I don’t even know where she’s staying. Is it at John B’s new place?”

Somewhere between his words, Rafe had started pacing up and down the stairs, making you antsy.

“Hey,” you said, coming around to slowly, carefully - like you were trying to pet a stray cat - curl your hand around his wrist. Rafe immediately stopped, eyeing his wrist where you were touching him.

“Sorry, I’ll take my hand off,” you quickly said, but before you could, Rafe stopped you.

“’s fine,” he muttered, meeting your eyes for a second before looking away again. “Physical touch grounds me… Y’know… When my thoughts get too… Much.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding at him and staying in place, for god knew how long, until Rafe had seemed to calm down.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

You drew your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest and leaned against the counter to put some distance between you and him, wildly overwhelmed with this situation. Rafe didn’t seem like he knew what to do either, turning his ring on his finger, his eyes cast on the floor.

“If you really want to apologize to Sarah,” you started, making him look up. “Maybe I can talk to her. Ask her if she’s willing to meet up with you.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, clearly surprised. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t let it get to your head. I’m mostly doing it for Sarah,” you scoffed and Rafe only smirked, shaking his head.

“Sure, tough girl. Gonna ring me up now or what?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you returned to the cash register, finishing up his order. You still felt his eyes on you as you worked away.

“Thanks,” he finally said, and you lifted your head, briefly meeting his eyes.

“Don’t mention it.”

And he never did.

Miraculously, you had managed to get Sarah to agree to talk to Rafe and while you had accompanied her to the beach, where she had met up with Rafe, you stayed behind to give them privacy. You weren’t sure what they had talked about, but you didn’t press her about it either when she came stomping back to you with tearstained cheeks. Whatever they have talked about must have helped though, because even though Sarah still stayed with John B of the the times, she went home every odd night, returning with sandwiches and drinks the next day like a soccer mom. It went unsaid that Rafe had provided her with everything and Sarah avoided talking about him, mostly because Pope still got that distant look in his eyes whenever she mentioned her brother. Which is why you were surprised that he was the first one to agree to go to a party Rafe had invited Sarah to, forwarding the invite to her friends.

“What?” Pope had said everyone gave him an odd look. “He stole a family heirloom of mine. The least he can do is invite us to a party of his.”

“Okay then,” JJ jeered, beating on Pope’s back with his opens palms. “Let’s go to a Kook party.”

You had to admit that it was nice to see that the two tribes of the island coming together. The fact that Pogues were invited to a party on Figure 8 was huge. Granted, it was just you and your friends, but still. It was a start.

Loud cheering from outside brought you out of your thoughts, you and Rafe both looking towards the dimly lit backyard, where the main attraction of the party took place.

“JJ and John B are destroying a group of Kooks at Rage Cage right now,” you then explained, lifting the beer in your arms. “Hence... You know.”

“Right right, I was starting the wonder what all that yelling was about,” Rafe mused.

“So how come you’re not out there?”

Rafe shrugged. “Needed some quiet.”

“What, you having your private party in here?” you teased and Rafe smirked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Why? You jealous?”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the beer cans in your arms, the weight slowly getting to you.

“In your dreams, Rafe,” you scoffed. “I got to go, get these beers to the boys before they’ll get warm. You should come down, when you’re done brooding and shit.”

Throwing your last words over your shoulder, you returned to your friends, being welcomed with loud cheers as the empty cups get filled rather quickly. You dropped down into your empty chair, taking your drink from Kiara who had been holding onto it during your absence.

“Pope was about to send a search party because you were taking so long,” she said and you gave Pope a look over the brim of your cup.

“You’re such a mother hen. I was talking to Rafe.”

“Why the hell were you talking to Rafe?”

“You talked to Rafe?”

“Jesus, guys relax,” you groaned, leaning your head back. “He’s fine. He didn’t even do anything. We just talked.”

“It’s never just anything with Rafe,” Pope muttered.

“I get that,” Sarah started, rolling her empty cup in her hand. “But he’s different.Like… He regrets a lot of the thing’s he’s done and trying really hard to make up for his mistakes,” she paused, pressing her lips together tightly. “I’d be the last person to defend him, but I feel like he’s trying to turn over a new leaf.”

Before Pope was able to list all of the bad things that Rafe has done in the past, your conversation was interrupted, angry yells ringing over the music.

“So now you’re just all buddy buddy hanging out here, huh?”

The new voice wasn’t really new and everyone looked at Sarah, who paled, slowly pushing herself up from her chair, looking towards the disturbance, the rest of the group following her.

“Shit. What the hell is Topper doing here?”

The sudden intrusion of a rather inebriated Topper had immediately tanked the relaxed and laid back atmosphere; suddenly, everyone was tense, not daring to make a move in fear of making the wrong one.

“What? Aren’t we here to party?” Topper cajoled, waving a half empty bottle of whiskey around. “Let’s get rid of these Pogues and party!”

The rest of the Kooks looked between themselves, not really wanting to follow Topper’s request but also not wanting to defend your friends. Even if they just had fun together, the Kooks wouldn't go as far as openly defend Pogues, you knew that.

“You should leave, Topper,” John B said, his hands curling at his sides, which was fair, honestly. Even though you had rebuilt the Chateau, bigger, better and most importantly more fire resistant, Topper burnt down John B’s home. His safe space. Topper only widened his eyes at John B comically, snorting.

“Who are you to tell me to leave?”

Sarah pushed herself to the front, pressing herself to John B’s side, which was probably not the smartest thing she could have done, as it only aggravated Topper even more to see her next to John B. You and the others stood right behind her, ready to step in as soon as it escalated.

“Leave, Topper,” Sarah snapped at him. “Nobody invited you.”

“Yeah, as far as I know, you don’t even live here anymore, Sarah,” Topper said, spitting out her name like it was venom in his mouth.

“I didn’t invite you.”

You hadn’t even noticed Rafe having joined you, not really standing on your side, but not on Topper's side either. Suddenly, the tension had grown even thicker and by now, you realized this could go wrong in about a 100 ways.

Topper stared at his friend, mouth agape, before he collected himself, pulling a face.

“Seriously, Rafe? Weren’t you the one who told me that I’m better off without your bitch of a sister and now you’re taking her side?”

“Watch it, Top,” Rafe only said, not even moving an inch.

Not that he had to. Everyone knew what Rafe was capable of, if he was angry enough. Topper only narrowed his eyes at his friend, weighing his options.

“Topper, just go,” Sarah yelled, walking towards him for good measure, trying to offer some sort of olive branch, but Topper only pushed Sarah roughly, causing her to stumble to the ground.

“Jesus, fuck, Topper,” you snapped, rushing to get Sarah back on her feet again, making the fatal mistake of getting between him and John B, as you received a sickening punch to the side of your face.

“Fuck!”

“Holy shit, Topper are you insane?”

You had toppled over your feet to the grass, not having expected the punch at all. Disoriented, you touched your throbbing cheek, your fingers stained red when you looked at them.

“Fuck,” you moaned, feeling like you were about to pass out. Your friends quickly crowded around you, helping you up.

“Shit, girl, you alright?” Cleo asked, carefully pushing your hair to the side to assess the damage.

“Is Sarah okay?” you only asked, pausing to spit out some blood, leaning on Cleo, your legs still shaking.

“Dude, I’m fine!” Sarah said, wrapping an arm around you, still shaking herself.

Your vision was still dizzy, and the voices were not helping, but it seemed like most of the party goers had dissipated as the argument had started. As your eyes adjusted, you could just see Rafe holding Topper by the collar of his shirt and saying something you couldn’t quite understand, before he tossed his friend on the ground. Topper didn’t take long to get back to his feet, fleeing from the scene.

Rafe turned around, his eyes scanning over you before turning to Sarah.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a bruise,” Sarah said, her eyes fixated on you. “But you should definitely get checked out. I can't believe Topper punched you."

“Come on, I got a first aid kit upstairs and some ice for the swelling.”

Rafe reached out to grab you under the arms, but Cleo was reluctant to let you go.

“Maybe I should help.”

“Seriously?” Rafe asked, incredulously and you only watched with narrowed eyes, your reaction time still limited.

“We should just take her home,” Pope chimed in, grabbing you by the shoulder gently, jostling you around.

“Guys, I’m gonna be sick if you keep handing me around like a joint,” you groaned, shutting your eyes, in the hopes of making the dizziness better.

“Pope, it’s fine. Rafe’s not going to hurt her. And he knows a thing or two about patching up wounds,” Sarah said, Pope’s grip on you loosening.

“Fine. But you even look at our girl funny, and you got another thing coming, you hear me, Rafe?”

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Rafe grunted.

You peeked an eye open, when your friends let go of you, Rafe looping his arm around your shoulder, pausing to look at John B. “You got Sarah, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about her.”

Rafe nodded his head in thanks, before leading you towards the house.

"Hey, just call if you need anything!" Kiara called after you, which you only replied with a weak "Okay!", your focus on putting one foot after the other. Rafe had his arm around your waist, taking most of your weight.

“Can you walk alright or do you need me to carry you?”

“If you pick me up right now, I will vomit on you,” you moaned and Rafe snorted.

“Right, and neither of us want that.”

It took you guys an embarrassing amount of time until you reached the house, since you kept making Rafe stop because you thought you were going to throw up. When you finally walked inside, Rafe lead you upstairs, instead of steering you towards the living room.

“Where are you taking me?”

“First aid kit is in my bathroom,” Rafe replied, mostly supporting your weight as you climbed the stairs.

“Ugh, your bathroom? Am I gonna get infected with herpes or something?”

“Is it the smartest idea to insult me in your position right now?” he asked dryly, and you almost sighed in relief when you reached the second floor.

“Just take me to your bedroom Rafe.”

“Alright, Princess,” Rafe sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he guided you to his bedroom, carefully depositing you on the bed. While he went to the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit, you took a second to catch your breath, hoping the world would stop spinning.

Rafe returned with the first aid kit, moving slowly so as not to startle you. He set it down on the bed and then looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you mumbled, pressing a hand to your throbbing cheek. "Just a little dizzy."

"Right." Rafe opened the kit and began to rifle through it, pulling out a bottle of disinfectant and some cotton pads. “This is probably gonna sting,” he warned you.

“Do your worst.”

You managed to flinch only slightly as the cool, yet burning liquid hit your skin, with Rafe’s surprising gentle touch as he cleaned your wound. He put a small bandage on the cut, before sitting back to inspect his handiwork.

“I’ll go grab you some ice for the swelling,” Rafe then said, standing up. “No dozing off, though, a’ight?”

Without waiting for an answer, Rafe left the room, leaving you by yourself yet again. Even though he explicitly told you not to doze off, you laid down on the bed, figuring that it might make the pain a little less bad. As soon as your head hit the pillow, Rafe’s scent engulfed you, and you weren’t sure if you lying down in his bed was too... Intimate? Then again, he was the one who had left you in his bedroom by himself. Before you could sit up again, Rafe reappeared in the room, holding a bag of in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face as he took you in on his bed.

“Sure, go ahead and make yourself at home,” he huffed, but you could see the frown on his face. Rafe sat down on the bed next to you, carefully wrapping the ice bag in a small towel and pressing it against your bruise, his other hand cradling your face. Despite the ice on your skin, you felt your cheeks heating up.

It was odd. You’d never have expected that Rafe could be able to be so gentle, so caring, and you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“What’d you say to Topper?” you blurted out instead, breaking the silence. You reached up to hold the ice bag, and Rafe pulled his hands back, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What?”

“After he hit me. What did you tell him to make you leave?”

Rafe sighed, leaning back a bit, staring at the wall as his eyes hardened. “I reminded him of what he did to me when I… Hurt Sarah. Asked him if he was willing to beat me to a pulp for my sister, what he thought I’d do to him for hurting her.”

His eyes flickered back to you.

And you.

You let out a breath at the pregnant pause, scared he’d say something he couldn’t take back. Something real. Maye you had been flirting with him, but so what? There was no harm, they were just words. Right? But admitting something real? That was a whole other story.

“Who would’ve thought Rafe Cameron could be so nice?” You said instead, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Rafe snorted, shaking his head with a laugh, the moment dissipating. “Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. It was a one time thing.”

“Right, right, we wouldn’t want people to think that Rafe the Kook prince actually has a heart.”

“Does that make you the Pogue Princess then?”

“What?” you asked, flushing. “Where’d you get that idea? That’s obviously Kie.”

“Come on,” Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes. “Kie’s half Kook. And don't even start with my sister. Sarah’s… Half and half, at least.”

You eyed him in amusement. It was clear that he’d spent a good amount of time on that analogy.

“What about Cleo?” you asked, humoring him.

“Ehh. She would’ve made a good Pogue princess, too bad you’ve already taken the spot,” Rafe said with a shrug. “Pogue Princess. Flirts with everyone, heart of gold, never hesitates to get right between a brawl to help out a friend and to call people out on their bullshit…. Should I continue?”

“Please don’t,” you laughed, pressing the ice bag to your cheek. “You’re talking shit out of your ass right now.”

“I’m talking shit out of my ass? You’re the one saying everything that comes to your mind to stop yourself from kissing me right now.”

What?

“What?”

You never thought he’d actually say it out loud. Mention the elephant in the room. The tension you had been trying to ignore all this time. The silence that followed was deafening as you tried to find the right words, your heart beating in your chest.

“In your dreams,” you muttered hotly, repeating your words from earlier in the evening, looking everywhere but at him. It didn’t take long for Rafe to grab you by the chin gently, forcing you to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

“In my dreams, yes,” he said quietly, inching so close that his warm breath was fanning across your face. “What about yours, princess?”

Gaping at him, speechless, you knew you didn’t have long until Rafe would take your silence as rejection. Your mind was racing, but ultimately, you leaned in, closing the gap and finally kissed him. Rafe let out a soft grunt, dropping his hand from your chin and cupping the back of your head instead to press even closer to you. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, as you finally admitted the attraction you felt to another, but you pulled away, when you felt a tad too dizzy.

“Right, shit,” Rafe cursed, knitting his brows together, examining your cheek. “Got too carried away.”

You flushed, handing him the small ice bag, that was more or less a bag of water now. Rafe dumped it in the trash next to the nightstand, before turning back to you with a smirk.

“Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” you huffed and Rafe only grinned, pushing your hair out of your face, where it stuck to your wet cheek. You leaned in for another kiss, only for Rafe to stop you, holding you back.

“Nuh-uh. You get better first. Next time, I want you to get dizzy because of my mouth and not because you just got punched in the face.”

“You sound real confident there will be a next time,” you pointed out.

Rafe sighed, faux-exasperation. “Princess, don’t act dumb, it doesn’t suit you. You really think I’ll let you go after you’ve professed your love for me?”

“After I did what?” you shrieked in laughter, and Rafe only laughed. It was nice seeing him laugh for real for once, not the smarmy, smirk he used to do. After your laughter subsided, your pursed your lips, serious.

“You know my friends won’t take this well, right? Especially Pope.”

Rafe ran his hand over his buzzed hair, exhaling softly. “I know. But I won you over, didn’t I? Rest will be a piece of cake.”

“I’m serious, Rafe.”

You gave him a look and he leaned down, clasping his hands in his. “So am I. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have been trying to make things up to him, to Sarah. To everyone. It might take a while… And I don’t blame him.”

“As long as you’re aware…. Now, can we get back to kissing?”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

Pushing your lower lip forward, you pouted at him. “One kiss.”

Rafe stared at you for a hot second, frowning. “Fine. One.”

But when he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss true to his words, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you.

"Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself?" Rafe hissed, but you only cackled, almost taking your bandage off in the process.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠂⠄☆

author's note: pls leave a comment/reblog/like if you liked it🥹

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey #obx #outer banks

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dakotalun · 2 months ago

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What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: You just got broken up with and you can only think of one place to go.

warnings: none, just some fluffy Eddie moments :)

word count: 1k

a/n: Shit it's been a while. Anyways back to it!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Everything was going okay recently, not many nightmares and the ones I did have weren’t too bad. Until…

“What?” The confusion is evident on my face and in my voice.

“I just don’t think we’ll work out. I’m sorry,” Jamie’s head is down and their eyes are looking everywhere but at me.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all, it’s me.”

I scoff, “Pfft. Okay sure,” I roll my eyes at their words, “Like every other time people say that line.”

“I’m being serious, love. I love you, I really do but there’s shit that I need to figure out-”

“Then we figure it out together! That’s what it means to be in a committed relationship!”

“I just- I feel like having a partner right now is not helping,” Their voice is distant and soft now.

“I get it. I’m too much, too clingy, too needy, too…everything,” The words sting my throat and tongue as they leave but it’s the truth, it’s what they all mean when they break it off with me.

“Not at all! You’re perfect, in every way, shape, and form. Seriously, it's me. I’m going through shit that I feel like would break us if I kept lying about it to you.”

“So this has been going on for a while?” I see their face change for a second then go back to sadness.

“Yeah, it has. But I thought it was nothing-”

“How long?”

“What?” Now it’s their turn to be confused.

“How long have you known and been going through this?” My face is steel and I show no emotion.

“Since Lolla.”

Lollapalooza was in August, it’s November. They’ve known this and not said anything for 3 months! Lying to me about everything for so long and I had no idea. I don’t even know how to feel right now. I begin to grab my bag and stuff my shit in it before getting up off their bed.

"Y/N," They reach for my hand to stop me from leaving.

I pull away before they can touch me, "Don't. I- I need space," I leave their room and head for the front door, looking back at the fuzzy orange cat lying on the back of the chair as he always does for the last time.

"Bye Cheerio," I twist the knob and walk out of the apartment I had felt so welcome in before.

I can hear the thunder once in the elevator, realizing that I can't return home because I promised Robin the apartment, assuming I'd be with Jamie all night. I try to think of who else I could stay with tonight.

Chrissy maybe? No, she’s at Jason’s place for the weekend. Oh, Nancy should be free right? I reach for my phone to text Nancy but see a Google Calendar notification on the screen.

Nancy Double Date with Johnathan and Roomie! Damn, I guess she’s out too. Maybe Robin would understand me coming home tonight, if I told them what happened?

As I think about what to do and where to go, rain starts to pour down, soaking through the loose shirt I had put on.

Why does this keep happening to me? How do I always end up in the rain with no place to go? I think back to last summer when Kris, Sophia, and I got into it and my brother’s friend had to come rescue me from myself and the rain. I laugh at the thought that this is just going to be my normal from now on.

As I walk, my feet autonomously begin to head to the only other person whom I trust and who might be able to help. I don’t even realize where I’m going until I’m standing in front of the building, not under the protection of the awning even though it’s only 3 feet in front of me.

I take a deep breath before stepping forward and deciding this really is the only option I have left. I’m thankful for the covering once I’m actually under it. I dial apartment 203 and wait for the voice of my best friend to spread through the old speaker.

"Hello?" His voice is low and gravelly; he must have just woken up.

"Eddie, It’s Y/N. Can I come up? I-" I sniffle and before I can continue I hear the lock moving and the door unlock so I can enter. I didn’t even realize I had been crying until then.

I quickly open the door and make my way through the small maze to get to his place on the second floor. I can feel my wet socks and the weight of my bag has risen tremendously since I left Jamie’s. I'm gonna need to check and make sure my computer is okay once I get inside his place.

Soon I reach his door and he's standing there against the frame, in a tshirt and sweats, his signature look. The expression on his face is one of concern and fear. Something I’m all too familiar with.

"Hey," My voice is weak and not at all how he normally hears it. I’ve never cried in front of him and we’ve been friends for over a year now, strange.

"Shit, Y/N you're soaked! Get the fuck in here," He moves out the way and closes the door behind me as I walk into his living room, making sure to take off my shoes before going onto the carpet.

He comes back with a towel and wraps it around me after taking my bag and setting it at my feet. I mumble a thank you before taking a seat at the edge of his couch, completely on the other side from where he normally sits.

To my surprise he sits next to me and rubs my back, comforting me and drying me at the same time. We sit there in silence for a few minutes. I'm tired and not in the mood to fully explain what happened yet, so neither of us speak until I realize I should probably tell him why I came to his place so late and without warning.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

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pippin-katz · 4 months ago

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Iron Burns

Something I'm super curious about is just how badly iron hurts when a ghost touches it. I posted a little ramble about Charles being chained and unable to help Edwin while she tortured him, and how we didn't get a reaction shot of him hearing Edwin screaming. And something clicked in my brain. I will preface this by saying that I can't prove anything, and could very well be completely wrong. This is just a possible explanation/option.

This was supposed to be relatively short, and that did not happen lmfao Here's your long post warning 😂

Charles VS Iron

This is Charles we are talking about. He is fiercely protective of Edwin, and let's be honest, can get physically violent when provoked. He was sitting there, listening to Esther, until she specifically brought up rescuing Edwin from her plans. It's only when she says that that he starts moving, and he very obviously intended to attack her.

It confirms in Charles' head that there is a specific reason why Edwin is separated from him, and that is bad. Very bad. He possessed Esther to get them out of their first fight with her; she very nearly succeeded in getting them eaten by that Forest Elemental. She is seriously dangerous, and he knows it. Whatever she has planned for Edwin, Charles knows it's vicious and vile.

That thought spurs him to physically attack Esther, without hesitation. Based on the fact that his hands are open, Charles was going to grab her rather than hit her, and, based on her proximity to him, by the throat. That is the only effective attack from his position I can think of; it's the only way he can completely incapacitate.

Logical reasoning aside, choking someone is a pretty common violent anger response. It's probably because it's the easiest way to kill someone with your bare hands; in shows, many characters use a weapon to hurt their adversaries. It's the bullet, the blade, the bat, or whatever that actually hurts them, makes contact with them. It feels different when it's literally you hurting them. Your hands are weapons on their own if you know how to use them. Ex: Vi from Arcane has boxing as her go-to fighting style.

Okay, I went on a bit of tangent there, but my point is that Charles is fucking pissed. This is Charles, who fears being like his father, wanting to hurt Esther.

Violence is the last resort for all of their cases and situations. Charles will take out his cricket bat if he senses danger, but it's more of an intimidation tactic than a true threat. Charles does not actually attack anyone with the cricket bat who is not already an established threat. He takes it out during their first encounter with Esther, when they meet the Cat King, in the Devlin House, when the Night Nurse first shows up, in the forest against David, and against the snake. Most of those encounters are not a matter of negotiation; the first fight with Esther, the Devlin House, David, and the snake were all situations where "talking it out" was not an option, so pulling out the cricket bat to intimidate them would have been pointless. When he takes the bat out in those cases, he's already fully intending to use it. When he takes it out against the Cat King and the Night Nurse, he waits. He holds it up to send a message. It says, "Don't make me hurt you, because I will if I have to."

Charles doesn't want to hurt people, and usually tries his best to find another solution; even when we see him having to fight someone, a military veteran no less, he apologizes and only defends against him because he knows this is a ghost who's cursed, and doesn't deserve it, despite his violent behavior. They attempt to talk the Night Nurse out of taking them for several minutes before she attacks him. She attacks him mentally and emotionally in a way the others don't see and can't fathom; you could even argue that it is a physical attack as well because she makes him relive being beaten by his father and stoned by his friends. The Night Nurse does not hit him, but she hurts him, hurts him bad. When Charles hits her with that music box, despite what the others see, he's retaliating, not initiating. Because again, Charles wants to find another solution first.

But with Esther? He is so far passed that. He is so furious that he wants to attack her. He wants to hurt her. And that is before she starts torturing Edwin.

When he heard Edwin screaming, do you realize just how angry Charles would have been? I can't comprehend how badly he would've wanted to break free and fuck Esther up for what she did. Charles is genuinely intimidating when he's angry; he would have been absolutely terrifying.

Tiny Note: this is the best shot of Charles in the whole show. Let my boy beat the shit out of someone without getting judged for it, please! Let him go apeshit, please!! 🙏🏻

I struggle to believe that anything would have stopped him from getting to Edwin in that state, iron collar be damned.

But Charles doesn't. He doesn't break free. He tries, and continues to fail repeatedly. Almost every movement makes the collar burn him.

The thought I had was how little Charles would care about his own safety/pain if it meant saving Edwin. This boy willingly enters and traverses Hell itself for him. He tells the Night Nurse that if he goes, he can either succeed in bringing Edwin back, or get stuck in Hell so she knows where they are. Charles admits that he would rather be stuck in Hell with Edwin than spend another second without him. When Crystal asks, "What if something happens to you?", he has no response. He honestly does not care if something happens to him, but he doesn't want to admit that to Crystal's face cause that would hurt her, so he refuses to answer.

Getting hurt does not matter to him, so just how painful was that iron that Charles, at his angriest, and in his most desperate state, could not break out?

We see him pulling on the chain and struggling, but he's moving as little as possible because he's trying that hard not to touch the collar. He lets go because it hurts too much. Even when his bag is just out of reach, which is the solution to all of his struggles, he can't bear the burning long enough to get his foot under the strap.

Based on all of that, my brain told me this: the iron burning was so painful that Charles could not endure it long enough to escape, even in his angriest and desperate state, listening to the most important person in his world screaming in a way he has never heard before, and pleading for Esther to stop hurting him.

Like, that sounds crazy to me. Seeing how angry he got at the Night Nurse, and the intensity of his rage in that scene makes me wonder what was going through his head while chained up.

Edwin VS Iron

But my brain was not done with this information. One of my favorite details that I want to be explored in the future is how nonchalant Edwin is while his hand is burning.

He did not notice it was burning until Crystal pointed it out. He looks and sounds genuinely surprised when he sees it. His expression and the way he says he was careless makes me feel like he wasn't in pain and trying to play it off, but was upset with himself for making a very noticeable mistake in front of Crystal while trying to show off and prove a point.

Edwin's pain tolerance is so high that he does not even notice a simple iron burn.

The second time he gets touched by iron is when Esther knocks him across the garden. He looks down at the burn that's what's hurting him, but I don't buy it.

This boy just got swatted like a tennis ball across a courtyard into a small greenhouse.

We all know that Charles does the fighting/takes the hits, so Edwin getting hit like that is probably a new feeling. Since iron makes them tangible for a couple seconds, he probably physically felt it when he landed.

Being burned and crashing into things are two very different sensations, and one of them Edwin hasn't experienced in thirty years. The burn is localized to his hand, and it's a burn. It stings. Hitting a structure that fast and landing like that is going to effect your whole body. It's aching, it bruises every part of you, from your skin down to your bones. It's so much more uncomfortable and hindering than a simple burn. If you burn your hand, you can still operate day-to-day almost normally, but if you mess up your body in some way, you're not going to be able to walk without being in pain. If you asked me which one I'd rather have happen to me, I would take the burn so fast.

Point being that him looking distressed and hurt after that hit makes a whole lot of sense, despite his high pain tolerance. It probably surprised him more than hurt him. It doesn't last long either.

The only time we see him truly react to iron is in Esther's torture device, which is obvious but I'll talk it through anyway.

The cuffs restraining his arms are touching his bare wrists, tightly and constantly. His wrists smoke from it. Him gasping at that makes sense.

But the real kicker here is obviously the rods. Upon first glance, it looks like they touch down on his torso, zapping him or whatever you'd call that, on a surface level. But if you pay close attention to the shots where he's somewhat transparent you can see that those prongs are actually going through him, at least a little bit.

I took a screenshot, up-ed the brightness, and marked where it looks like the rods hit him, versus where they actually end.

Edwin moves around a bit, so there are definitely some shots where they are just touching his skin, but that's kind of the point I'm trying to make. The rods are not moving, they are static, so when Edwin's body moves around them, they stay put. That is fucking painful.

The rod is not moving, but Edwin's body is, and there is nowhere for his skin/muscles to go but through the metal, like it is cutting through him in reverse. If you push a knife down to cut through something, like a carrot, it cuts. But if you hold the carrot, and push it down on the blade, it still cuts.

That would explain even more why Edwin reacts to whenever Esther touches him, even when the device is paused. It would also explain why he was begging Esther "don't come any closer" during one of the cutaway shots.

If you think about it, that doesn't make any sense. Esther's proximity to the device doesn't determine whether it's on, off, or higher/lower. She walks around the room with her glass of ghost juice or whatever you want to call it. She gestures with her hand when she turns it on and turns the intensity up.

Esther getting closer to him wouldn't matter since the device is already on. That is, unless she was actively doing something to him while torturing him. Considering how sadistic she is, I wouldn't put it past her to mess with him whenever she got bored of just watching. Touching him, shaking him, whatever, would almost definitely make it worse. Edwin not wanting her to get close to him would make perfect sense if she was occasionally doing something like that.

So, we have iron making him corporal, burning him, and zapping him with some kind of electricity-like energy, that are also piercing into him, and yet Edwin doesn't scream from the pain initially. There's quiet moaning that you can tell he's holding back, but he doesn't gasp or yell. This is same metal that hurt Charles so badly he couldn't escape in his angriest state. It takes hours of prolonged exposure and gradual increasing of the intensity to make him scream.

The secondary question to this whole thing is just how high is Edwin's pain tolerance that he is able to endure that while withholding making noise?

I can't comprehend it, honestly. Though Edwin spent 70 years in hell being literally torn apart over and over again. We have no idea how long he feels the sensations of his previous body after he respawns or how quickly he does so, especially since the manner of death in this case wouldn't be instantaneously fatal. If his head and heart are in some capacity intact, he'd still be alive for at least a few seconds. As Dr. Alan Grant explains to that kid about raptors in Jurassic Park, you are alive when they start to eat you. It would be believable if Edwin is basically immune to pain unless it's a fucking insane amount of it. I mean, in the Cat King's words to Esther, "Edwin has been through more pain than you, or I, could ever imagine."

That would be pretty fucking crazy if this is all true/accurate.

Is it intentional? Probably not. Could I be reading too much into it, and unintentionally hyperbolizing it? Absolutely. I'm using observation and some information about their characters that I can't actually prove to be true. Maybe I'm just seeing things with the prongs and they're not going through Edwin. I can't prove that Charles would've been angry enough to break out of restraints if they hadn't been made of iron. Maybe iron effects all ghosts differently. Who the hell knows?

Even if I'm not 100% accurate, we do at least know for sure that Edwin has a way higher pain tolerance than anybody else based on the burning hand that he didn't even notice was burning, and how long he was in that device before he started screaming, and that's badass as hell on its own.

(ko-fi)

#dead boy detectives #thoughts: dead boy detectives #charles rowland #jayden revri #edwin payne #george rexstrew #payneland

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