#[ closes my eyes ] if i cannot see the finale it cannot see me either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penny00dreadful · 1 year

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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

AO3 link for those asking! 🖤

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.”

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered.

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.”

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it.

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

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flemingsfreckles · 18 days

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Newlyweds

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: You and Jessie finally get married, when you get home, your original plans get derailed by your sleepy wife

Warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex (fingering), getting walked in on, no detailed smut, non sexual nudity, showering together,

WC: 1.6k

A/N: this ended up soft and fluffy, I thought about taking it the smut route but I didn’t, sorry I know yall love some smut, I also finished writing this just now and I’m just gonna post it, it’ll edit it if I find errors but it’s very possible they’re in there.

Jessie was practically cackling as she ran down the hallway of your home toward your bedroom with you cradled in her arms.

“If you fall you’re going to get us both hurt Jessie.” You tried to protest when she went to pick you up outside the front door.

“It’ll be fine! Plus it’s a tradition thing.”

“I think the tradition is the groom carries the bride through the door, last time I checked we’re both the bride.”

“Shhh just let me do it.” You had, reluctantly let her pick you up, bridal style, walking you through the door of your house. It only took 3 steps for Jessie to in fact trip over the rug that sat at the entrance.

Thankfully neither of you were hurt, she had managed to catch both herself and you before either of you hit the floor.

“Jessie!”

That’s what set her off laughing. And she couldn’t stop, she was hysterically laughing as she kept moving, using your body to push open the bedroom door. By the time she placed you on the bed you were laughing too. You couldn’t help it, your wife’s laugh was contagious.

“I cannot believe you almost fell.” You shake your head looking up at where she stood next to the bed. Going limp she flops down onto the bed next to you. She’s laying on her stomach, looking at you as you lay on your back, turned to the side to look at your wife.

“Hi wifey.” She whispers to you, the biggest toothy grin across her face.

“Hi wife.” You lean in and kiss her gently.

You both lay, just staring at each other, soaking in the fact that just a few hours ago you had officially gotten married.

The two of you had joked for so long that you practically were married, being together since you were 17 and 18, you had stayed together falling in love with each other more and more as the time went on. Now being 25 and 26 you finally had done it, in front of all your friends and family, you were married.

As you stare at her you notice her eyes starting to flutter closed, then she’d open them with a couple hard blinks, before they’d start to droop again. The sight is adorable, Jessie’s sleepy face gently placed on the bed.

“Let’s go to sleep Jess”

“No, we’re supposed to, ya know, consummate the marriage.” She cracks her eyes enough to look at you and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Babe, I think that tradition is more for people who didn’t sleep together before marriage, we’ve been having sex for like 8 years.”

“But still, we’ve never had sex as wives.”

“What do you call the fingering in the reception bathroom then?” You counter.

You weren’t too proud of it, but something about seeing Jessie in her tuxedo declaring how much she loved you in front of everyone you both cared about, turned you on. You couldn’t help yourself but to whisper some filthy words into Jessie’s ear as both of you sat having dinner. The two of you had snuck off to a bathroom during your reception to have a moment to yourselves, one thing turned into another and before you knew it Jessie had you sitting on the sink, her fingers under your dress and inside of you.

Jessie’s face turned red at the memory.

“That doesn’t count as consummation, no one finished.” She argues with you.

“That’s not my fault, you can thank your sister for that.”

Jessie’s little, but thankfully adult, sister had come looking for both of you. The photographer needed you both for photos with your brand new wedding bands. You thought you had locked the door when you walked in, turns out Jessie had already made an attempt to lock it, meaning you unlocked it. She had looked everywhere, before she opened the bathroom door, seeing her older sister between your thighs, your dress hiked up around your waist and Jessie’s hand between your legs.

“Oh, you two are disgusting.” She clasped her hand over her eyes. “Wash your hands and both of you get out here, the photographer needs you!” Jessie had been mortified, being caught by her sister of all people, she would’ve preferred a teammate. You had laughed it off and dragged your red faced wife out of the bathroom.

The party continued on for a few hours after and while you were still very turned on by your wife, the exhaustion of the day started to sink in not exactly leaving either of you in the mood for what you knew would be multiple rounds of sex.

You watched as Jessie’s eyes continued to flutter shut each time they shut they stay closed for longer and longer until you’re pretty convinced she wasn’t going to open them again.

“Hey,” you gently nudge her shoulder and her eyes crack open. “Let’s go shower and get changed.”

“But I’m so comfortable here.”

“Come on babe, we can have our first shower together as wives.” Saying the word wife and it not being a joke anymore made you smile.

“So cozy in the bed.” She mumbled as her eyes closed again.

“Alright, hang on.” You stand up, moving over to the side of the bed closest to her, you scoop your arms under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She doesn’t protest as you lift her and carry her into the bathroom.

You gently place her on the floor and give her a kiss. “Let’s get you undressed.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Jessie smirks at you.

“No, you were just falling asleep on the bed.”

She pouts at you, arms crossed. You gently take her wrists, undoing the cufflinks of her dress shirt and then sliding off her tuxedo coat. Your fingers move to the buttons on her vest, undoing those and helping her remove it. Lastly is her dress shirt, she works from the top down as you work to undo the bottom of her shirt. Your hands meet in the middle and she pulls the shirt off and quickly follows it with her sports bra.

“My beautiful wife.” You lean down placing kisses across her exposed skin. While your mouth stays kissing her chest, your fingers move to her belt, undoing it and sliding it out from her pants. She undoes the button on her slacks and lets them fall to the floor. You hands find the elastic of her boxers and you slowly pull them down. Moving your head from her chest you place kisses along both of her thighs as you remove her underwear.

“You’re turn.” She says, you turn away from her to allow her access to the zipper and ties on your dress.

Jessie’s hands find the top tie and begin undoing the knot. “Have I told you enough how beautiful you look?” She says as her fingers move to the next tie. “Absolutely stunning, you took my breath away.” Her hands then move to the zipper, undoing the rest of the dress. She brings her hands up to where the top of the dress sat. She begins pulling it off of your body, similarly to your actions she brings her lips, placing them on every inch of skin on your back she exposes pulling down your dress.

Jessie extends a hand to you to help you step out and over the dress. “Wow.” She takes the time to look you up and down. You had bought a new set of lingerie for the wedding. It was a lacy white set, one you knew would make your wife crazy. “Where did you get this?” Her fingers work into the straps of the bra.

“Oh you know, just something I had lying around.” You joke with her. Her eyes are locked on your chest. “Quit staring, I’ll put it on again tomorrow for you to fully enjoy.” The comment had Jessie biting her lip, likely thinking of what she’d get to do to you after a good night's sleep.

You move your own hands to your bra, unclasping the back while Jessie’s thumbs hook into your matching panties and pull them down your legs. She comes back up to meet your lips with hers.

You both stay for a second, grinning at each other, both overwhelmed with happiness. You pull away to start the shower, while you wait for it to run warm you pull Jessie into your arms, hugging from behind. You turn the two of you toward the mirror above the vanity.

“Look at my wife.” You point in the mirror at Jessie’s figure in front of you.

“Ehh she’s alright but look at my wife!” She teases you back, pointing at you in the mirror.

“I love you, wife.”

“I love you, wife”

Your arms release her, giving her a quick squeeze with your hand on her shoulders. “Let’s hurry up and shower so we can sleep and then tomorrow we can do all the consummating you want.” You give her a wink and she quickly follows you into the shower, the two of you having a moment of peace and relaxation after the day’s festivities. As you looked at her in the shower, you couldn’t help but think how it was just the two of you, and that was all you would ever need. You and her.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

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jeon-ify · 1 month

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| quit staring - song mingi |

synopsis: it wasn’t the cologne or the grey blazer he put on this evening before the show, nor was it the slight gloss in his lips that made you fall into a craze for the entire night. it was the way his blazer was unbuttoned with nothing underneath. it was the way his chest was so plump with pretty muscles, the crevices and slight contours in his collarbones that made you weak in the knees— weak between your thighs.

warnings: sexting, dom!mingi, sub!bratty reader, reader starts staring hella hard at mingi, degradation (slut, whore, bitch), orgasm denial, fingering, car sex (slight), swearing, if i missed anything, you know what to do!

there mingi was; stood over you, reaching to grab something on either side of you. the quick scent of his fresh cotton and sandalwood scent sends a rush through your nostrils, as well as the body oil he’d rubbed on his chest. he knew what he was doing tonight— using your favorite products to get you into bed all over him later.

he leans over to whisper something in your ear that you almost didn’t catch, but you force yourself to understand for the good of the group. “keep staring at me with your jaw on the floor so people won’t think something of it,”

you didn’t realize how hard you’ve been staring, but mingi felt your eyes burning holes through his torso all evening. you can’t help it when all you can think of is his hands around your throat while you ride him all through the night.

“i wasn’t staring. and you smell good so its hard not to look,” you whisper back. departing with a smirk, he takes his assigned seat across from you. your thighs nearly clench on their own, unaware of your surroundings.

the conversations and soft music continues to flood the room, as your thoughts continue to flood your brain and trying to control yourself becomes harder by the minute.

you finally decide to make a move on your boyfriend because it can’t keep going on like this. at this rate, if you stand up someone will find a patch of your juices on the chair and a wet stain on the back of your dress.

you turn on your phone and look to your left and right, making sure no one is looking at what you’re about to send.

to: my man

please

i need to go home

my man:

Stop staring at me

No im jp

Whats up? Talk to me

to: my man

i want you inside of me

like all the way inside pls

want u to bend me in half and fuck me

knock my lights out im so fr

with the last of your foul messages to mingi, he looks around and glances at you, smirking before shooting his next few texts.

my man:

Yeah? Do i look that good?

Think u deserve a good pounding from how you controlled yourself all night

Dont u think?

your thighs clench and your heart drops to your ass at the texts mingi just typed back to you, your cheeks turning a flushed berry red, and your nose becoming shiny from the thin layer of sweat hugging your skin.

to: my man

my god mingi

pls lets go home come up with a shitty excuse

say that ur brother just called

say he needs a ride somewhere

my man:

Needy girl

Okay. I’ll let hwa know.

Can u start my car? My keys are in ur purse

*seen*

your hands fidget with your purse on autopilot, rushing to remote start his car. you cannot wait to get home— the feeling is building up and you hope it’s mutual just so you’d get the fucking of your life tonight. you see mingi talking to seonghwa about wanting to go home and somehow it works. whatever he says makes seonghwa look worried for a second, but mingi ends up fleeing in faux worry. you get up and greet everyone with mingi behind you, watching everyone say their good lucks to mingi. hiding a laugh in your throat, you walk out of the door and hurry to the passenger seat of your boyfriends car. mingi follows suit, sighing the moment he closes his door.

“what’d you tell him that made him look so worried?” you begin.

“i told him my brother got sick and i had to drive him to the hospital. i don’t even have a brother,”

“as long as it worked. now let’s go home please, mingi.” the car doesnt move, mingi’s tongue pokes through his cheek as he smirks at you, watching the way your thighs clench and your breathing picks up. he breathes out a small chuckle, almost mocking your neediness. “you just can’t wait, can you?”

“no, baby. i can’t, i’ve waited all day.” your breath hitches in your throat when mingi’s long fingers graze through your inner thighs and up your skirt. he tips his head up to face you, planting a kiss on your chin. he moves his fingers up, pushing your panties to the side and sliding a finger between your folds. he rubs up and down, eliciting a couple gasps and moans from you.

“this what you wanted, y/n?” he stares lasers into your face, distracting you from his thick index and middle fingers plunging into your sopping hole. he curls them, pulling the strings of your orgasm and threatening to ruin his expensive custom leathered seats. “oh my g- slow down! i can’t—“ his fingers move at an ungodly pace, making you oh so overwhelmed with how powerful your orgasm is about to be from his fingers alone. when he doesn’t get the response he anticipates, he lands a harsh slap on your clit making you yell.

“that wasn’t my question. is this what you wanted so bad in front of my friends? what if someone saw the dirty texts you were sending me, hm? would you want that?”

just when you’re about to cum, mingi snatches his fingers out of you, pressing the brake and shifting gears to begin driving home. “if you complain about not cumming, you’ll never see the end of it, am i clear?”

“yes,” you breathe out, fixing your panties and trying to calm yourself to the best of your abilities.

the ride becomes slower and more dreadful, waiting to get home to finally reach an orgasm.

after what feels like hours, you arrive home and rush up the stairs to your bedroom, quickly undressing, waiting for mingi to see you ready for him. you hear his footsteps walking up the stairs, inching closer to the bedroom. he locks the door behind him as if anyone were to walk in.

“if you weren’t my girl, i’d think you were a whore. take your bra off.” the words mingi says to you never fail to make you feel like the smallest of the small, and never fail to make your panties wet. you almost drool on yourself, feeling how his sharp cat-like eyes watch your body move and your tits bounce with the moves you make. he undresses himself and hovers over you, grabbing your leg and putting it over his torso. he plants kisses on your neck, up to your jaw and beginning a hot makeout. your tongue explores every inch of his mouth, sucking and breathing in his venom.

“fuck, mingi. please do something.” he continues to grind over your heat, rubbing against your black laced panties. your wet cunt is visible to him through the lace, making his breath pick up. he leans down to suck a generous amount of skin on your right nipple, making your back arch upwards. he sucks and sucks like his life depended on it, blowing on the spot and sending chills through your chest.

“yeah? want me to be rough with you? think you deserve a good pounding after what you did to me at dinner today?” he brings his fingers down to your clit, rubbing quickly before unnoticingly pushing his fat cock into your hole. you try to answer him by apologizing, but you need a moment to adjust to his size.

“fuck! fuck!” you scream out as he straightens himself upwards and has your legs on his shoulders. he pounds into you quicker, not giving you a moment to relax. it’s skin on skin and it’s raw. his tip is kissing your cervix, making your thighs shake on his chest.

“there you go, pounding you like the good bitch you are. gonna knock you up, yeah? wanna walk around with my babies in you?”

beads of sweat begin to form on the base of his chest and the corners of his forehead, making you clench around him. he feels your orgasm approaching, making him slow his thrusts just to bother you.

this fucker.

“faster, mings.” you moan and cry in hopes that he’ll let you cum, but…

“you’re not cumming yet. i’m cumming first tonight, i deserve it.”

“i can’t hold it mingi please please please!” his pace quickens at an ungodly speed, making you fall silent and mingi groaning and whimpering at the feeling. your stomach clenches and mingi continues his abuse on your pussy.

“fuck, oh my god, baby. should have a gangbang from how good this pussy is. wanna share my bitch with my crew, yeah?” he leans down and lands a slap on the right side of your face, making your eyebrows furrow and your lips out from how fucking good your boyfriend is pounding you. the thought of a gangbang makes your pussy clench again around him, making his eyes darker and his chest heave.

“what a whore. wanna fuck my friends and show off what’s mine? you’re not even ashamed?” he grabs your jaw and makes you look into his eyes.

“n-no, just w-want you to fuck me. i live for you, i’m yours to use.”

“good girl, finally your brain works,” his cock throbs in your heat as his thrusts become shallow and slower. your eyes roll back as you try to hold your orgasm again.

“can i cum? please please please can i cum?” you beg, holding his hand and begging for a release.

“cream on my cock, pretty. let me feel you.”

“th-thank you! fuckkk,” it feels like you’re floating when your orgasm finally reaches and you let all go. mingi stops while he’s still in you, waiting for you to calm down before he shoots his load into you.

“gonna take a picture of my cum in you and send it to the groupchat. how’s that sound?”

—————————————————————————————

#kpop smut #ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez san #mingi ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi smut #song mingi x reader #song mingi #song mingi x y/n

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Note

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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dyaz-stories · 5 months

Text

a house, not a home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, hyun-su needs a hug, unresolved tension, mentions of blood

a/n: okay so, for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman though if people are interested i could definitely write that 👀 I hope you'll like it! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like me to write more, and consider reblogging!

next part

The hardest thing to get used to, after what others called the Monsterization Outbreak but you labelled, more simply, the Apocalypse, was the silence. You were the type of person to always have music playing, back when you were a high schooler studying hard to get into your college of choice. Now, music was wasted electricity and, worse, could be a death sentence if anyone — anything — heard it play, or if it dulled your senses and got you killed.

At the beginning, there had been lots of sounds. Screams. Cars colliding. Stores’ alarms, blaring when the looters broke in. Sobs. In your house, for a while, there had been your father, humming quietly as he worked.

Then he’d gotten a nosebleed, left the house, and never returned.

Now it was just you, and you’d learned not to make a sound. So when there’s a knock on your door, it echoes through the rooms and rattles you to your core. For a second, you clench your trusty baseball bat. You took hours and cut your fingers planting nails into it, but it’s worth it, if only for the feeling of confidence it gives you. Truth is, you rarely had to use it. Your strategy relies on avoiding confrontation at all costs.

You release it when you realize that there are very few people who can come knocking at your door.

After all, monsters don’t knock.

You rush to the door without letting go of the bat. Your habits are ingrained in you well enough that you still check the peephole — and when you do, your heart somersaults in your chest.

You keep the hinges well-oiled and the door doesn’t make a sound when you open it.

“Come in,” you whisper, not daring to break the silence with actual words.

Cha Hyun-Su stares at you, looks like he hesitates. He always does, looks like he wants to give you a chance to slam the door back in his face. He’s covered in blood now — ‘not mine’, you know he’d say if you asked —, clutching his wrist, lips chapped, eyes hollow.

“Come on,” you say again, and this time he does, walking by you without a word. Then he goes still once more, there in your entrance, while you close the door behind him. He always does that, until you give him explicit permission.

“Are you okay?” you ask when you turn around, hands reaching for his arms, his torso, trying to check on him, though you cannot see whether or not he is hurt.

“I’m fine,” he replies with that deep voice of his, catching your wrists before you can feel for yourself. “It’s not my blood.”

It never is.

“But are you hurt?” you press, still.

He frowns, and confusion sparks in his eyes.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

You shake your head.

“No, I mean— Does it hurt? Does anything hurt?”

Hyun-Su’s lips part. He closes his eyes. His body sways towards yours, and you freeze. You feel his breath against your cheek, and his grip on your wrist becomes lighter— a caress, at most. You just stay there, not wanting to scare him away, but not wanting to leave him to himself either. You feel a pull towards him, the urge to wrap your arms around him, and you resist it, knowing that he’d flee.

Finally, he snaps out of it, lets go of you, takes a step back.

“I’m fine,” he repeats for a third time.

You don’t push it.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

Clean water isn’t easy to come by these days. Fortunately for you, you have a complex system designed to retain rain water as well as morning dew, put in place by your father, when he was still around. It’s rained recently, and with the help of solar panels you’d stolen with him what feels like a lifetime ago, you’ll be able to have hot water. Showers, you haven’t mastered — though you’re sure your dad would have figured it out by now — but you can at least offer him a warm bath.

Hyun-Su’s eyes are on you, wide and focused.

They’re ever so slightly warmer than they were when he came in.

“I would like that.”

Hyun-Su comes out of the bathroom some thirty minutes later, clean and looking more like himself. He’s wearing clothes he’d left there on one of his other visits, which you’d washed by hand among some of your stuff.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice firmer than it had been earlier.

“It’s not a problem,” you reply, and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at how fake your nonchalance sounds to your ears.

If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Have you been okay here?” he asks instead.

You bite the inside of your cheek. The answer is complicated. You’ve been safe, physically that is. You have barely caught sight of a monster since he’s last been here — nine days ago. You can’t say you’re bored, either. There’s always things to do, to fix, to figure out around here.

What you are, is alone.

And, though you don’t want to admit it, lonely.

It might be the kind of answer he’s looking for, yet you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It’s not even that you don’t want him to know.

It’s that you’re scared that if you did, if you asked him to stay or to take you with him, he would still leave you behind.

“I make do,” you reply, which at least isn’t a lie. “I keep myself busy.”

It’s your turn to freeze when Hyun-Su leans forward, trying to meet your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

A smile escapes you at his cautious tone as he repeats your words at you. You look up, and there he is, inches away from your face, checking on you in the very same way you’d checked on him when he’d arrived — now that he’s had the time and space to collect himself. For half a second, the corner of his lips lifts clumsily to form a smile in response to yours, and then it’s gone, as he, too, realizes how close he is.

You see him sucking in a breath, then swallowing, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Your heart beats so loud in your ears, you can’t even hear the silence anymore.

“I’m not hurt,” you say, and it is true for now, at least.

Hyun-Su nods without moving away. There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’re not used to, a spark, a craving.

His eyes drop to your lips.

Your whole body is tingling with anticipation, yet you don’t move, no matter how badly you want to close the gap between you. You can’t rush him. You’d never forgive yourself, if he didn’t come back.

He leans forward, just by an inch, then closer again, so close and—

He turns his head at the last moment, late enough that his cheek brushes against yours, before he pulls himself back.

That hurts. It makes your heart ache more than you’ve let yourself hurt in forever.

“Sorry,” Hyun-Su mumbles, stumbling back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing for trying to kiss you, or for not doing it.

“I’ve brought you food,” he says in a rush, picking up his backpack by the entrance door.

You watch him as he does, and you can’t help but note the many wounds on his body. Most of them are half-closed, and you know that they’ll be gone by the next time he comes back, but that new ones will have had the time to open and heal halfway.

He hands you his offering of food, without meeting your eyes this time, and you take it from him. Your fingers brush against him, and he moves his hand away like you’ve just burned him.

“It’s late,” you say, your voice quiet even to your own ears, even now that you’re so accustomed to the lack of noise. You don’t want him to go, not just yet. “You should sleep here.”

But, just like you expected, Hyun-Su shakes his head and closes his backpack with shaky hands.

“I need to go,” he says. Then, when you don’t answer — can he tell you’re fighting back tears? —, he adds “I’ll come back. I promise.”

You nod. It’s your turn to avoid his eyes.

“I’ll be waiting,” you say.

You open the door for him, and you force yourself to look at him as he steps back outside, into the unknown, into the danger, and away from you.

He looks back, right before disappearing in the night.

“Stay safe,” you say, though you know he won’t.

“You too,” he says, knowing you will.

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone with the silence again.

next part

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #hyun su x reader #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader

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fuckmyskywalker · 19 days

Text

18+, smut, omegaverse; alpha!Anakin x Omega!Reader, breeding, dirty talk, dub-con if you squint.

Wake up babes Anya posted.

“Anakin, let me go,” You beg, yanking your arm away from him.

“No,” He replies, gripping your arm with even more force, enough to keep you in your place. Now that he is this close, he can smell you, all the hormones and hidden lust that is dangerously bubbling to the surface. The subtle, sweet fragrance makes his cock twitch, instinct kicking in; Low and dangerous, he leans closer. “I’ll take care of you, just come with me,” He knows what to do, it’s in his blood— he knows his duty.

Whimpering, you shake your head. Your knees are seconds away from giving up, paired with glassy, confused eyes. The internal battle going inside your head is a clash of needs. You don’t want to lose your pride and the respect you’ve worked for— but your heat, only enhanced by the absence of suppressants, makes it difficult to stay away from Anakin. He is an Alpha, you are an Omega— is a natural reaction. The way it should be.

Oozing with the urge to be taken, your body finally submits. Falling onto your knees, Anakin quickly kneels before you, wrapping his firm arms around your back and pulling you closer. The strong scent of sandalwood and leather fills your senses, forcing you to bite a moan. “That’s it,” Anakin whispers, excited to taste your heat. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

Picking you up almost effortlessly, you hide your face in his neck, inhaling deeply. Just the mere sight of you curling against his chest makes his cock twitch. He needs you— as much as you need him.

The walk to his bedroom isn’t long, but to you, it feels excruciatingly slow. Inside his chambers is even more suffocating, or is your body reaching its limits? You cannot know. There’s no way you can handle this any longer. Placing you on his bed, Anakin hurries and removes his clothes, handing them to you so you can nuzzle against them, press your own scent against his, and calm you at least a little. Anything. You need a proper nest, he knows that but he cannot wait any longer.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, fidgeting with the knots and buttons of your clothes, taking them off swiftly.

“A little,” You whine, spreading your legs, practically offering yourself to him. Normally it would be embarrassing to even phantom such a lewd act, but at this moment it feels necessary. Anakin growls under his breath when he sees your sopping cunt, slick sticking to your swollen folds in a way that makes his dick leak. “I need you, Anakin.”

Watching you hold one of his tunics against your naked chest is a sight he will never forget. So precious and so eager to be claimed. He never thought this would happen— but he is glad it will.

“You’ll be mine, omega,” Anakin swears, climbing on top of you, placing his palms on either side of your head giving you one of the best views in the world. One of your hands curls around his bicep, feeling the muscles flexing as he uses his right hand to guide his cock inside you. Sliding it in between your folds, he makes sure to lube it with your slick, groaning at the feeling. You are so wet, so fucking wet he knows he won’t have a problem. Easing his cock inside you, he pushes slowly, spreading your walls and watching you wiggle your hips, silently begging for more. “That’s it, good girl. You are doing so good, princess.”

He will knot you, mate you, and keep you to himself. Give you everything you need and provide you with anything you want. His pace gradually grows, alternating between slow and deep strokes and harsh and fast.

“Anakin— fuck!” You moan, clinging to his bicep and his shoulder, arching your back and covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes you glow like a goddess. “I need more, please.”

“You want more, bitch?” He chuckles; pushing your hands away, he grabs your ankles and places your legs over his shoulders, slamming into you, locking his blue eyes on yours. “You want my knot? You want my babies?” His cock twitches inside when you nod desperately. “Take my cock like a good girl, I’ll give you what you need. You just need a good fuck to get bred. That’s what you are made for.”

Still holding his tunic, you bring it up to your face and bite the edge, soaking the fabric with your saliva. The sudden thought of getting pregnant and taking his knot sends you over the clouds. He’s right, you were born for this. To carry children, your alpha’s children.

“Take my cock, omega,” Anakin grunts, pressing your legs together, still holding your ankles and groaning your name when he feels your hot, velvety walls tightening. “There you go, you’ll be a perfect mother.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya mumbles!#alpha!anakin #omega!reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin fanfic #anakin x y/n

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radiant-reid · 11 months

Note

Imagine reader being pregnant and telling Reid on Father’s day and its just really cuteee🌸🥰🥰

forever dreaming about telling him i'm pregnant with his baby

Spencer has no idea what today is.

Not only has he been out on a case for the week and doesn't what TV enough to see the advertisements, but he also doesn't have a dad worthy of getting a gift for.

So there's no reason for Spencer to know that this June Sunday is Father's Day. But after today, he'll always know when he's getting celebrated.

"Mm, what's the occasion?" His voice makes you grin as you flip pancakes. He got in last night, and after sleeping for 13 hours, he's finally up, looking adorable as he rubs his eyes. And attractive in only pajama pants that hang low on his hips.

"Hi." You walk over, feet padding against the hardwood floor.

You fall onto his chest, hugging him as his hand gravitates to rubbing your back and his head rests on top of yours.

"Pancakes are a good news food." He tells you. "French toast is usual."

You should have known your profiler husband would pick something was going on as soon as he saw you in person. On the phone, you could lie by omission a little easier.

"Spence." You groan, leaning your head back. "You're the most handsome surprise ruiner ever."

A laugh leaves his hips. "Kind of backhanded." He chuckles, and it's the most beautiful sound. He kisses you softly, but, as expected, he's on a mission, and he won't stop until he has all the answers. "Tell me what's going on, beautiful."

You sigh dramatically, regrettably breaking away from him. "Close your eyes." You instruct, and he furrows his eyebrows, not complying. "Please, you already ruined my surprise."

"Okay." He agrees, cupping one hand over his eyes. "But I'm really confused now."

You move away to go and get them from your handbag. Three positive tests that have made your dreams together come true.

You place them in his hands, standing back slightly and excitedly waiting for his reaction. It's going to be good, and you can't wait.

His eyes light up immediately when he opens them and realizes what he's holding. "No way!" He shouts. "You're serious?"

You nod eagerly, and you don't have time to say anything before Spencer scoops you up in his arms, twirling you around in the kitchen.

He stops abruptly, cupping your cheeks and kissing you passionately. "Oh my gosh, we did it! You did it! You're amazing."

"Spence?" You say, stopping him from a long ramble about how incredible you are. He can get around to that later. "Happy Father's Day."

He's quickly tearful, and he smiles even wider. "That's... maybe the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I cannot wait to be a dad."

You can't wait to see him as a dad either. He's going to kill it. "I can't wait for you to be a dad. You'll be the best one there is."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb

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danytar · 22 days

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“Making him happy” [King!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader]

Warnings: Incest, cussing, expletives,+18,(f receiving), vulgarity, dark aegon, mention of fingering, mention of war and death.

Summary: Your husband feels very angry with your grandfather's neglect and you hate seeing his sour mood so as his queen and especially his wife you have to make him get better..

Aegon was sitting on the iron throne, watching you critically as you entered. Even though he needed his fleet, the thought of trusting a pirate disgusted him.

He didn't like the idea of trusting these sea vagabonds He was feeling weaker and weaker after the Greyjoys refused to ally with him against your half-sister. You hated seeing him like this he was angry most of the time and he still hasn't forgotten what happened to your precious son.

You were standing not far from his throne you could see him complaining and showing his frustration to his grandfather and his mother. you felt that you should keep your mouth shut for a time.

You do not rule out that he might insult you in his anger. you really tired of hearing his screams and his inconsiderate words, and you felt a strong desire to silence him. You know very well that aegon can easily shut up is he was with you.

When the court was finally empty, you saw him leaning back on his throne and holding his temples with his eyes closed.

You stood at a distance from his throne and spoke.. “You look upset what's wrong? ”.

He raised his head slightly and then looked at you with a stern look and his lips curled into a frown “Don't act like you dont know! I need a fleet! I need ships! ”.

“I know! Just calm down...please ”. You speak in a low tone and take a step towards his throne. You stop again and speak again “You do not have to ask for the support of the lords, like a beggar asking for alms”.

He stares at you with a slight smile on his lips as she speaks.

“Of course, you are right, my queen, as always. It is time we strike fear into the hearts of traitors. They must learn that they have to recognize me as king, as you said. But still, I need the support of a fleet, and the only way to do that is to rely on sea pirates, which I cannot accept without disgust”.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him smiling at you again you're really missed his smile So you maintained eye contact with him and did not break it yet. “We will take what is our will fire and blood we may not have ships, but we do have dragons.. so. If you don't have ships... destroy enemy ships ”. you replied.

Aegon raised an eyebrow at your comment “Are you suggesting burning our half-sister's fleet?”

“Yes”

Aegon felt a wave of surprise, but he remained calm. At least your idea would take care of the pirate part.“Well, that's an interesting idea. But wouldn't that bring a reaction that we weren't ready for? I mean, the whore might just send her dragons as revenge”.

“She can't attack us in King's landing If she does she will have to burn innocent people along with us to take revenge and you know I don't think she's that stupid to do such a thing”.

Aegon nodded at your words. That made sense. If the black queen attacked him she would have to attack King's Landing along with them. And that meant bringing fire and blood to innocent people, which was something he didn't want either.

“You are right, she cannot attack me in King's Landing, that would be suicidal. Now that you remind me, that solves the pirate problem. We burn the ships, and as for the rest, we fight them by swords and blood”.

Aegon smiled more as he looked at you, happy to feel the satisfaction of finding a way through the problem of relying on pirates. This was not only a practical solution but also a solution that would satisfy him because it didn't involve relying on sea vagrants.

“We have found our solution. Now all we need to do is prepare the attack, coordinate the dragon strikes, and strike at the right moment. If we do that, it will be quick and effective. The victory will be ours”.

He was grateful to have an intelligent wife like you. you were a gift from the gods sent to him.The frown finally went away and was replaced by a small cocky smile.

He rose from his throne as he strutted his walk towards you he put his hands on your waist and lifted you up.

“Aegon! ” you chuckled.. “I feel dizzy”.

He chuckled as well then pressed his lips to yours It was a surprise kiss, but you welcomed it He slowly put you down but you wrapped your arms around his neck pressed your body against his own body. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he placed his hands on your buttocks to support you.

Aegon's hands moved slowly, tracing your curves and enjoying the feel of your soft skin. He lingered on each part of your body and savored every inch of you, letting himself feel the pleasure and heat radiating from her.

your lips remained joined, and he pressed his body against yours. His heart beat faster, and his hands moved lower on your body, exploring every inch of you. He wanted to feel your entire body against him, pressing himself against you as close as he could.

You felt like he lost his balance and started to back towards the Iron Throne. you chuckled on is lips as he He sat on his throne again while you were still clinging to him. Even his ruby crown lost its balance and fell off his head.

You looked at the crown as it rolled to the ground he grabbed your chin to bring your attention back to him and kissed you again This time, more passionate and hotter his tongue joined the kiss as well. You can't and moan in his mouth too.

Aegon moaned louder in response and kissed you back, using his tongue to explore your mouth in the same way. your tongues danced together, and the passion grew higher.

your bodies pressed against each other, the heat of your bare skin causing a wave of tingling to sweep over your. His hands ran from your waist to your hip and then to lower, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric there.

“Ah- my love-

“ A good queen who know to please her husband ”. he whispered.. “how lucky I am”.. His tone and voice were full of lust and seduction.

Your cold fingers slid down to unbuckle his belt and invade his dangerous areas. Aegon groaned softly at the feeling of your cold fingers underneath his pants. your hand had a delicious effect, causing his body to shiver with pleasure.

His heartbeat grew even quicker, his breath grew heavier, and he felt that he was about to lose his control when you touched that spot. His lips became more active as he continued to explore your mouth, your tongues making their way while he felt your fingers below his pants. His kisses became more active and enthusiastic, and he felt his body twitching and trembling.

You pulled away from his embrace to kneel in front of his throne then you unziped his pants. He wanted to speak, but he quickly felt your mouth on him He felt a shiver in his body. So he closed his eyes and let you comfort him. He let out a loud groan of pleasure begun to sink back into the throne.

“Fuc-fuck- yes.. darling.. make y- your king.. happy ”. He groaned as his fingers tangling in your hair. It didn't take you long before he reached his climax. You both forgot that you were in the throne room and were vulnerable to interruption and intrusion at any moment.

but you both were the king and the queen of the seven kingdoms and you will do whatever you want even if it meant having sex on that pile of metal.

Soon you felt him cum inside your mouth you took everything he gave you graciously. When you finally pulled away from him, he opened his eyes and smiled widely at you.

His thumb wiped away the remaining liquid on the corner of your mouth. you chuckled softly so did he Then he pulled you into his lap again he unzipped your pants this time to put it inside you.

Of course he wasn't done with you yet...you were the one who wanted to play dirty...

– Taglist ♡ : @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #aegon headcanons #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon fanfic #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #aegon x you #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii x you #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #danytar

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writingjourney · 11 months

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a message from the bulletin board | cardinal copia x gn!reader

summary: the ministry’s bulletin board, ordinarily used for missing items or party announcements, contains a particularly interesting request this week – a lonely hearts ad.

content: 9k words, gn!reader, slightly suggestive at times, first date/first kiss shenanigans, sad lonely awkward cardinal fluff, you know the drill

Masterlist – Ao3 link

You ignore the knot of people in front of the bulletin board.

As much as the whispers and giggles garner your attention, someone else attracts it even more. Cardinal Copia, red cassock, red biretta, arms filled with two boxes worth of files and papers, is trying to push the door to his office open with his hip under a swell of Italian curses. Certainly, his hip swing is impressive on most days, especially on stage, but today it seems more like a helpless, uncoordinated bumping that the door is fighting with every ounce of its wooden strength.

Evidently, he’s struggling.

“Good morning, Cardinal, do you need a hand?”

His eyebrows shoot up when he hears your voice and he stops dead in his tracks, slowly turning his head until he catches you standing right behind him. Despite your announcement, he visibly startles, nearly dropping the boxes in his arms.

“Oh, eh… yes, if you could open the door for me, Sibling?”

“Of course.”

With your hand on the knob, you watch as he hurries inside of his office, wheezing under the weight and dropping the boxes onto his desk with a dull thud that echoes loudly in his mostly bare working space. Apart from books upon books strewn across and around his desk as well as an old weathered couch, there hasn’t been any love put into decorating the space. You wait patiently for him to turn back around to you, a hint of red dusting his cheeks when he finally does.

“Thank you,” he squeezes out, trying very hard to swallow his heavy exhales. “I carried them here all the way from the archives. Long way, you know, even for my…” He holds up his arm, flexing it exaggeratedly. “My strong, powerful muscles.”

You giggle and he perks up in delight, eyes wide and shiny. “No problem, Cardinal, I can imagine they’re very heavy.”

You smile at him and he smiles back, so sweetly, and you’re momentarily at an equal loss for words. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, down the prominent bridge of his nose. He brushes it away with a leather-gloved hand and you can’t help but stare as he wipes it clean on the heavy fabric of his vestments, shaking out his fingers once he’s done. You can’t look away as they flex and release, flex and release. They’re surprisingly long and so… nimble.

Copia’s violent cough startles you awake and you’re not sure if it’s his own nerves that make him clear his throat, if his overexerted lungs are protesting or if he caught you staring. Either way, you feel your own cheeks getting hot now, the moment of hesitant silence slowly transitioning into a gooey sort of awkwardness.

“So, ugh… I better get back to my own duties,” you say. “Lots to do, spring cleaning and all that.”

He nods. “Yes, yes, you are busy, of course. Such a busy little bee. Bzz bzz. Hehe.”

You awkwardly giggle back, trying hard to think of a clever joke. Maybe something that has to do with stinging? But before you can settle on one, the time for a witty come-back has stretched thin and so you just awkwardly wave at him, mutter a “see you later” and close the door.

With your back pressed to the wood, you let out a deep exhale, the butterflies – or bees – in your stomach making it very hard to breathe at a normal pace. Once you’ve recollected your wits, you notice that the hallway is still as busy as before, maybe even busier.

Like lions gathering around an animal carcass after days of starvation, what feels like half the abbey has been flocking to the big rectangular corkboard. You cannot possibly imagine what would warrant such intense interest. The most exciting messages on any given day are unusual sex requests, the invitation to a weirdly themed party or a call for applications to a particularly intricate sex ritual to honour the Dark One.

You push through the crowd to check what’s causing the repeated giggling and excited whispers amongst your peers when you spot a pristine piece of paper on the board. It’s thick, stark-white, shaped like a heart at the top and with pieces to rip off at the bottom that contain a phone number. You squint, move in even closer until you can make out the text – hand-written and in cursive.

I (m, 50) am looking for a partner to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t have any preferences but it would be coolio if we had similar interests, so we can have some fun together.

I like: watching movies, playing video games, going on walks, rigatoni, juice, small animals

I don’t like: coconut flavour, being barefoot, swimming, touching wet dishes, bullies, dentist appointments

If you think we are a good match I would like to take you on a romantic date. Please call or text me. Bye bye!

You smile at the note but quickly find back down to earth when someone rams their elbow into your side. No one has taken one of the numbers yet, so you assume the excitement is more about the fact that there is a lonely hearts ad on the bulletin board at all than any actual interest in the person. You have to admit, it is a bit odd. Most younger clergy members just use dating apps these days or social media. But the lonely heart in question is fifty, so they may not be familiar with modern methods, and it’s oddly endearing that anyone would go through the trouble of creating such an ad. At the same time, it breaks your heart that someone in the abbey is so lonely that they risk the ridicule of half of the clergy members just to have a chance at finding love.

“Well, there are a bunch of people who it could be,” you overhear someone say. “Maybe one of the older Brothers, a bunch of them are single. Could also be that new bishop who just arrived, I heard he’s a cinephile and walks around the gardens quite often.”

You ignore the whispers of speculation, making your way back through the crowd to return to your duties. It’s almost dinner time by now and you need to get two more loads of laundry done before then. But even as you sort through piles of habits, cassocks and veils… you can’t stop thinking about the ad. You sincerely hope the person receives a few serious and not just prank calls. The note did sound endearing and you definitely see similarities. At the same time you’re far too busy nursing your hopeless crush on the Cardinal to actually entertain the thought of dating someone else.

You decide to check on the ad again tomorrow, see if anyone took a number, and if not, you could at least save it to your phone… just in case.

✦ ✧ ✦

Two birds land on his window sill, rubbing their beaks together in a kiss before happily chirping at each other. They’re in love, literal love birds, building a nest on the little protrusion in the wall right below his window. He’s been watching them occasionally, unreasonably envious, as they bring in twig after twig, ready to start their family. From the same window, Copia can make out the spring-filled gardens with their colourful patches of pink and red tulips, bumblebees hurrying from blossom to blossom, drunk on pollen and greedy for more. He can overlook the bright green meadow leading down to the pond, speckled with lush, budding trees. At this time of the day, after everyone finished their daily duties, the grass has almost completely disappeared under a plethora of picnic blankets.

Spring fever, he assumes, has to be the reason why everyone seems to be in love. Couples dozing in each other’s arms in the shade of the trees, feeding their lovers berries or grapes, taking a stroll down to the pond with their joined hands dangling between them, kissing without pause in the archways of the cool stone walkways leading outside. Just now he spots two Sisters rubbing sunscreen on each other’s bare shoulders, one of them kissing the other's head before they fall back onto their blanket, giggling happily at each other.

He feels so incredibly lonely.

This has been going on for weeks now and he’s tired of feeling so shamefully worthless of affection. Instead of the arms of his lover, he sinks into his tattered old desk chair and drowns his sorrows in boring paperwork. Not that that’s going well, but for lack of alternatives, he’d rather do budget calculations than sit in his quarters all alone. Every evening, the spring breeze carries the sound of happy laughter through his windows, usually while he’s playing video games all by himself, but he can’t keep them closed if he doesn’t want to sweat to death. Besides… that same gentle breeze is the only thing caressing his skin as he tries to fall asleep at night and if he closes his eyes, the wind almost feels like fingertips ghosting over his arms.

As he leaves his office that night, he receives another heavy but sadly much expected blow. Almost a week now and still no one has taken one of the numbers from his lonely hearts ad. Of course it doesn’t mean no one saved it to his phone, he tells himself, people are shy or they just don’t want to date an anonymous person. It has nothing to do with him, they don’t even know it’s him. And yet… if his dating streak continues so poorly, he’s not sure if he can stay sane for much longer. There are only so many tears you can cry in bed at night before it starts to take a toll on you.

His heart is especially heavy as he makes his way to his lonely quarters. One more day and then he’s taking it down, he decides. No use in waiting any longer now that surely everyone in the abbey has seen his request and the last thing he wants are pity calls.

✦ ✧ ✦

“So, are you going to call the Cardinal?”

You look up from your breakfast plate. Your friend Lily is sitting opposite of you, chewing on a blueberry muffin, and you narrow your eyes at her. “The Cardinal?”

“The number in the lonely hearts ad,” she says. “It’s still there, I checked earlier.”

“It’s the Cardinal?”

She nods, popping another piece of muffin into her mouth. “Duh.”

You feel your cheeks heating up and set your fork down to hide the sudden tremor in your fingers. “Which Cardinal?”

She gives a soft groan of annoyance. “Babe, there is only one of the Cardinals who would ever hang up such a goofy thing. Now, will you call him?”

Copia. She knows about your… slight infatuation with him. And despite being kind and not teasing you too much, it was just a matter of time until the occasion popped up. If he is looking for a serious partner… maybe it’s too late for you soon. The ad has been up for days and while you’ve been toying with the idea of calling, you just haven’t found the courage yet.

You continue eating, trying to act casual, but it takes you three attempts to pick up a stray piece of cucumber from your plate. “How do you even know it’s his number?”

Lily takes a deep breath, setting the muffin down to ready herself. “Sooo, Michael wanted to call the number to check who it is, right? Well, turns out his girlfriend already knew it’s the Cardinal’s number and his girlfriend is Sister Jill who knows it from Sister Mary who is roommates with Sibling Jessie who works with the treasury and their colleague Brother Paul works as the Cardinal’s assistant two times a week and that’s how he has the Cardinal’s number for emergencies.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Now, will you?”

Eyes on your empty plate, you bite your lip until you can taste blood. It’s Copia’s number, the number of your crush of about six months now, and he’s looking for a partner, unspecified. That’s… big news, intimidating news, news that calls to an action you’re not sure you’re prepared for.

Glancing at Lily, you catch her smirking at you and promptly give her a scowl. “I don’t know. What if he already got better options?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Better than you? I doubt it.”

“You’re biased because you’re my friend.”

A shrug. “You should try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He could be disappointed.”

“He’s more disappointed if no one calls,” she counters.

“Yeah but–”

You stop yourself when you see Nora, Lily’s girlfriend, approaching the table. Her arms wrap around Lily from behind as she presses a loud, lingering kiss to her cheek, both of them giggling.

“You scared me,” Lily says, turning around for a proper kiss.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t leave breakfast without my sweet treat.”

You avert your gaze, involuntarily feeling like an intruder. They’ve been together for a few weeks now, sickeningly adorable. Lily had been pining after Nora for months, a little bit like you with the Cardinal, only that she eventually found the courage to ask her out. To see her bravery being rewarded like that makes you incredibly happy for both of them. But at the same time… you have rarely ever felt your loneliness so sharply, the heaviness of your unreciprocated crush such a weight on your shoulders.

You know that if you want this to be you and the Cardinal, then there’s only one real answer to her question: You have to reach out to him.

✦ ✧ ✦

He’s ready to toss this day into the trash bin already and he only just got up.

Last night, after tossing and turning for hours, Copia fell asleep only to promptly land in a hysterically embarrassing dream that made him jolt up whimpering like a kicked dog and hiding his face in the pillow. Bringing himself close to suffocation, he finally realised that he had not actually stumbled right in front of you, spilling juice all over his robes, scrambling to get up only to slip in the puddle by his feet, falling onto his butt with a high-pitched cry. You had been standing there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until you turned around to leave.

This is the reaction he would expect, should he ever actually find the courage to ask you out. However, this is highly doubtful, because upon walking to his office half an hour later, he catches you with a group of friends. He often sees you with them – attractive young Siblings, evident chemistry between all of you, and every week he suspects a different one to be in love with you. He recognizes the two Sisters he saw from his window earlier this week. One of them presses a loving kiss to the other’s cheek and he wishes he could just walk up to you and do the same.

His heart hurts. No matter how much kindness you extend to him, you’re a beautiful young soul who could never be romantically interested in an aging loner. Copia is not disliked per se, he gets along with pretty much everyone, but he struggles to build meaningful connections. Between working his butt off to satisfy the clergy and spending time on his mostly solitary hobbies, it’s hard to meet people. He had to actively put himself out there but neither online dating nor any of the singles’ events Terzo sent him on brought any results – only what the young Siblings call getting “ghosted” or “benched”.

His ad is his last chance. And even that failed miserably.

As he ponders his options, your eyes suddenly meet his and he swears you’re smiling. Then you lift your hand in a cautious wave. For a second, he’s too scared to wave back because there are people around him, all of which could be your target. Your hand sinks after a moment as your smile slowly straightens and he suddenly knows that you do mean him. He lifts his hand far too excitedly in a reciprocative wave. Your smile returns, a shy one, but before he can even think about possibly approaching you, his knees suddenly give out.

No, they don’t give out, someone rams a trolly filled with supplies for Black Mass into him. Some of the tall candles roll off the top and clatter to the floor, breaking in half just like his dignity.

“Oops, sorry, Cardinal,” the Sibling says, scrambling to help him up. “It’s so hard to steer this thing.”

“It’s fine,” he chokes out, the pain in his knees anything but fine. “It happens.”

“I’m truly so sorry.”

He smiles, a hand on their shoulder now that he’s on his feet again. “It is okay, eh? No worries.”

When his eyes try to find you again, you’re not there anymore and he can’t decide if he’s relieved or sad. He prays to Satan that you didn’t see him fall but there is no way you missed it. His dream, if slightly watered-down, did come true after all and perhaps now you won’t want to–

“Cardinal, are you alright?”

Copia, still dizzy and skittish, spins around so hard he nearly stumbles again. He smooths out his now crumpled cassock, the dust he collected on the floor even more visible on today’s black vestments. In an attempt to retain his dignity, he straightens his spine and looks right into your beautiful eyes. You have a tendency to startle him like that and he wishes he could be more smooth about these encounters.

“Yes, yes, Sibling, thank you. It was… it was nothing, just a little stumble, eh?”

“Are you sure?” You inspect him from head to toe, your brow creased in concern. “It looked painful. Your knees…”

“Oh, my knees are fine!” he lies. “I kneel all the time, Sibling. You know this.” Your eyes widen and he continues to stammer. “I mean in prayer. I pray a lot. On my knees. I am a Cardinal, yes? It’s my job.”

You nod heavily. “Yes, of course.”

“So, ugh… I better just fuck off.” He presses his lips together to keep more silly words from coming out. “I mean I’ll go back to work. ”

As he tries to leave, your hand shoots up, squeezing the muscles in his forearm. He’s not as much startled as enthralled by your touch, so unexpected that he has no time to feel insecure but so welcome that it almost feels natural to have your fingers on his arm. He swears there is a hint of nervousness in your eyes now and despite knowing it’s silly, his heart wants to interpret it as bashfulness.

“Cardinal, please. I… ugh…”

You look beautiful from up close. Even if you weren’t stuttering he’d have a hard time listening to your words. It seems like you stopped breathing, your cheeks now a sweet shade of rosy, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Eventually, you shake your head and run your fingers over the fabric of his sleeve. He thinks he’s about to pass out, his nerves rising until he can feel his heartbeat all the way up to his neck. Your hand is so gentle, so… affectionate.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal. I don’t mean to keep you. I was just thinking that I really like the black cassock. It suits you.”

A compliment. His mind is racing. This is not what you really wanted to say, he can tell, but he grins anyway. You like his cassock? Well, you should wait until you see him in a suit. Maybe on a date. He should ask, he realises. This is the moment he’s been waiting for for months now. But as he continues to stare at you his tongue becomes too heavy to form the words, and then your hand is suddenly gone and takes his courage right with it.

“Thank you, Sibling,” he says instead. “I also really like your ugh… your outfit.”

Only when the words leave his mouth does he realise it’s the same everyday habit you’re wearing all the time. Somehow, the silly compliment still manages to conjure a smile onto your face and so he stops berating himself because he made you smile. The sight stuns him, butterflies erupting in his already nervous stomach.

“I’ll see you later, Cardinal,” you say then, your eyes leaving his to glance down the hallway where your friends are waiting, beckoning for you to hurry.

Copia nods and he looks down at your hand in silent fascination, staring at your fingers that are dangling by your thigh without any use as if he could magically make them touch his arm again. “Yes, yes. See you,” he mumbles. “Bye bye.”

When he looks back up, you’re already hurrying off. Copia stays frozen, his gaze trailing after you as though his eyes are glued to your form. Even when you’re out of sight it takes him a while to start moving, to start breathing again.

Around him, the hallway slowly empties as everyone starts to tend to their respective duties. Copia can’t help but feel the nagging disappointment about not asking you out. A chance like this won’t suddenly appear again and even if you refused him it would still be less humiliating than the untouched ad at the bulletin board. He should take it off right now, he figures.

Only when he enters the hallway leading to his office, something looks off about the postings. He notices the change from the corner of his eye at first as he walks past the large corkboard. More party flyers have appeared, someone took down the “diamond butt plug set missing” request that had been hanging there since an orgy in the Siblings’ wing went wrong last month. Instead, Copia notices a large poster promoting condom usage that partly covers the request underneath. Which is how he recognises it.

His ad.

And one of the numbers is missing.

Copia nearly lets out a loud squeal as realisation dawns on him like the gentle spring sun rising over the hills every morning, bringing warmth and happiness after a cold, dark night. It seems like Cupid finally answered his prayers, like Aphrodite found sweet mercy for him.

Someone took his number. Someone wants to reach out to him.

For the rest of the day, he feels like he swallowed a swarm of bees, staring at his phone like it’s going to light up any second. Which it could. He could receive the message or call that changes his life any second now. Any second. Any… any second.

Nothing happens. Not in the next hour, not in the next two hours. All day, in fact, his phone stays quiet. His initial happiness deflates like a balloon. As he heads towards his quarters that evening, he observes how everyone piles into the dining hall, their happy laughter and cheerful spirits spoiling his usually solid appetite. He hates the sour feeling of envy in his stomach but he can’t help but suspect that everyone conspired against him.

Copia decides to skip dinner in order to cry into a big bowl of gelato. His nightmare might not have come true but his brain tortures him with pictures of your smiling face instead, with the phantom feeling of your warm hand lingering on his arm, and he can’t help but feel crushed anyway. He’d sell his soul to come home to you, to eat with you, sit with you, watch silly movies with you, fall asleep with you in his arms and wake up with your smile as the first thing he gets to see every day. It becomes increasingly clear to him that every day he misses out on being with you is a day tragically lost.

If only he was brave enough to change that.

✦ ✧ ✦

You’ve been pacing your bedroom for the better part of the evening now, back and forth and back and forth to the point where you’re seriously concerned about wearing down your carpet. The day passed uneventfully apart from your encounter with Copia in the hallway where you made a complete fool of yourself. You would have loved to skip all of the unnecessary fuss of texting back and forth but you barely spoke more than two words to him before you chickened out. Surely, if his interest in you was romantic, he could just ask you out instead of advertising himself on a public corkboard?

In any case, you’ve been typing out messages for over an hour now, deleting every single one of them only to throw your phone onto the bed multiple times before picking it back up to risk another attempt.

The reason you haven’t given up yet is that Lily knows you have his number now. Last night, when you thought everyone was asleep, you snuck out of your dorm feeling like James Bond with your torch and black clothing, tiptoeing down the empty corridors of the abbey. You didn’t want anyone spreading any premature rumors but a part of you was hesitant to take one of the numbers at all. Even if you called him, it wasn’t certain that he’d want to go on a date with you.

Still, you ripped off one of the thumb-sized pieces of paper and headed back – only to promptly run into Lily as she snuck out to meet Nora. You’re never going to forget her self-satisfied grin as she spotted you with the crumpled number between your fingers.

Begging your creative juices to start flowing, you stare at the empty message box. Perhaps you should be funny. You wonder if he knows the Piña Colada song. It is about a lonely hearts ad after all and he’s a musician. You type and type, delete and retype until you end on a rough draft to show Lily when she gets home. But no, upon rethinking, the joke is too silly even for you and there’s probably a better way to phrase this–

“Hey, have you called him yet?”

You jump, your heart rate doubling in shock. Lily appears in the open doorway and her voice startles you so fiercely that you clutch your phone to your chest. To your utter horror, the swishing sound of a sent message reaches your ear as your palm connects with the touchscreen, and when you glance down, the bubble with your typed out message sits at the top of your chat history.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

“What?”

“I sent my stupid silly joke message to him.”

Lily picks your phone from your hands, reading the solitary message from the display. “Well, at least now you’ll know if he shares your weird sense of humour?”

You grasp her shoulder and release a deep, throaty groan. Her words don’t calm you in the slightest, if anything, they only make it worse.

✦ ✧ ✦

Driving Miss Daisy can’t distract him anymore.

Every two minutes Copia reaches for his phone to check for any missed texts or calls only to have the gapingly empty home screen staring back at him. He never figured out how to change the pre-set wallpaper. Perhaps he could try again when he has a cute couple picture of him and his future partner. The thought makes him smile. It’s one of many little things he would change – if they only called.

Despite putting it on vibrate, he doesn’t trust the device to inform him of any news. He even carried it to the toilet twice already, just in case something happens while he’s gone. His ice cream doesn’t satisfy him tonight, everything feels bland and devoid of flavour, but he refills his bowl anyway. One big spoon and a bit of spray cream… and as he walks back over to his bed, he realises that he should definitely check his phone again because this took way longer than two minutes.

Right as he pulls the device out his pocket, it vibrates violently in his hand. For a moment he is so shocked to see a message pop up that he throws it away. It lands on his bed, bouncing a few times, display still lit up with one new notification glaring at him from the centre of his screen.

He takes a deep breath. This is real. He got a message.

No, he can’t look at it, he’s going to lose his nerves. A few more deep inhales and slow exhales, then he can’t fight the suspension any longer.

Hey, stranger :) You don’t like coconut, so you probably don’t like Piña Coladas, but maybe I’m still the love that you look for? I would love to go on a date with you, if you are still looking for one.

It takes him a second, then another one. The ice cream melts in his bowl as it sits forgotten on the floor next to his bed. Suddenly it clicks and he chuckles, in relief as well as amusement, thinking that he knows that song, that he gets the reference. That means this person is funny. They made a joke. He smiles to himself. A funny person wants to go on a date with him.

He types back, deleting, typing again. After five minutes, he comes up with a reply.

Hello, stranger! 👋🏼 I do not like Piña Coladas 🍹 but I have many better things to offer if you want to go on a picnic 🧺 with me tomorrow? I will bring food 🥪 and drinks 🧃 of course. Hopefully we do not get caught in the rain 💦😀

He thinks about how he could sign the message but then his nerves start to kick in. If he tells the person who he is, they may reconsider their choice to go out with him and that’s the last thing he wants. Even if the date doesn’t go well, he wants to try his best, so he shoots another message after the first:

Oh. It will be a blind date, if that is okay with you?

The next minute is the longest of his life. An eternity passes. He thinks he might have stopped breathing with how tight his chest feels. That is, until his phone lights up and shows the same number again, wringing a deep sigh of relief from him.

That’s fine with me. Where do we meet?

The squeal he lets out vibrates in his chest and bounces off the walls.

He’s got a date. Finally.

✦ ✧ ✦

Copia hears his bad conscience somewhere in the back of his mind whispering that blocking the best spot in the gardens all day is selfish. Perhaps it is true, perhaps he feels a little selfish today. And yes, besides feeling selfish he also feels a little guilty. Is it fair to go on a date when he has such a horrible crush on someone else? No. No, it’s not fair. But he can’t let another chance at love run through his fingers like sand on the beach. He simply has to grasp this opportunity.

His red-checked blanket lays untouched underneath the tall chestnut tree, its big, hand-shaped leaves rustling in the soft breeze as he approaches. The head of a rat is stitched into all four corners of the fabric – a gift from Sister for his latest birthday – and it’s been sitting here since nine o’clock when he took the liberty of… reserving… the spot. He picked the north-side of the tree so that the shade falls exactly where he’s going to be sitting with his date in approximately fifteen minutes. If they prefer the sun, he can just pull the blanket over a little, but he’d never forgive himself if they got sunburn because of him.

Copia took the day off, his first day off all year in fact, risking his next employee of the month award to spend all morning in town, running errands. With the end of May and strawberry season starting, he visited every grocery store within walking distance to find the ripest, juiciest ones they offered. He was lucky enough to obtain a small basket filled with the most delicious-looking red fruits and some additional fresh ingredients for his sandwiches. While he was quick-witted enough to ask about his date’s allergies yesterday, he completely forgot to ask them about their favorite snacks and so he’s decided to just bring anything he could think of that wouldn’t melt in the sun.

The basket he packed feels heavy in his hand for that exact reason and when he sets it down on the blanket, he can feel the strain in his arm. The past hour was spent obsessing over his outfit until he decided to just go for the white suit combo. Yes, white fabric near grass and juicy red fruits is not the most brilliant idea, but he wants to look his best and that means going the extra mile, even if he has to wear the tiny, itchy underwear underneath.

His heartbeat is going a mile a minute now. He can’t unpack yet, he doesn’t want the food to be out for too long, and so he sits and waits, his hands sweaty under his black and white leather gloves. The fact that the gardens around him slowly become crowded as the afternoon rolls around does nothing for his nerves. He can feel the curious glances, can hear the hushed whispers, and as the hour nears, he starts sweating even more despite the shade. If the unanswered ad had been embarrassing, being stood up so publicly would be even worse.

And then the most horrifying thing ever happens.

Copia sees you walking along the path, wearing a weather-appropriate, slightly dressed-up outfit that makes his eyes involuntarily roam your whole form. But he can’t fully focus on your loveliness. At first, he’s panicking that you’re meeting your friends somewhere close by where you could see him with his date. He would be so embarrassed, so distracted, so uncomfortable. But you walk straight towards him and that’s even worse. If he has to tell you that he’s busy meeting someone else he might spontaneously combust, explode into tiny particles of humiliation. It would ruin everything, his date and his crush on you. What if his date shows up and sees you with him? What if–

Oh no, you don’t stop approaching, you don’t take a turn, you walk up straight to where he’s waiting – with a hint of hesitation, yes, but very directed steps. Copia jumps up immediately, his black hat nearly falling from his head.

“Oh, Sibling,” he stammers, lifting a trembling hand to adjust his fedora. “Hello, hi. Are you spending some time outside today as well?”

Your mouth opens and you wring your hands before hiding them behind your back. “Hello, Cardinal. I ugh… I’m supposed to meet someone here under the chestnut tree.”

Copia furrows his brow, slowly registering your words. “Meet someone. Under the chestnut tree.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Satan. It’s you?” He stops, stares, comprehends. He sounds incredulous, his voice a higher pitch than usual. “You’re my stranger?”

You nod, big eyes staring into his mismatched ones in silent expectation, hope and fear muddled together in the crease of your brow. He doesn’t know how to react, just rubs his thumb and index finger together as his mind races faster than speed limit.

“Is this… is this bad?” you finally ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“No!” Copia exclaims. “No, no, no. Please, please sit.”

You do, kneeling down on the blanket a little hesitantly. Copia joins you, still not fully trusting his senses. This feels like a hallucination. His disbelief has to be the only reason he hasn’t passed out yet. Is he really on a date with you right now?

After another moment of silence, Copia notices you eyeing the basket and snaps back into reality. His plans, his very detailed plans for how this date is supposed to go, flood his mind and he remembers the first step now. Swallowing his shock, he sits up a little straighter.

“Ah, eh… yes, I got you something.” He reaches behind the basket and procures three deep red roses he stole from Primo’s rose garden on the way here. Their intense smell hits his nose as he whips them past his face and hands them over. “These are for you. I hope you like roses. I know it is a bit cliché but also a classic, no?”

“I love them,” you assure him, holding them up to your nose with a smile. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

He smiles. “Good, good. Yes. So… I thought about what we could do and–”

“Cardinal,” you interrupt then.

“Oh, no. No, call me Copia. Please.” He gives you a shaky smile. “We’re on a date, no?”

“Copia,” you try but feeling his name on your tongue doesn’t make you feel any better. Ever since getting here your bad conscience made it hard to fully settle into this date and with his visible distress upon discovering it’s you, you feel like now is the time to address it. “Before… before we do this, I have a confession to make…”

He hums and wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, I would love to see you in confession soon…”

You blush furiously. “Oh, no. No, that’s not what I meant.”

A flash of concern and you can practically see all of his insecurities mirrored in his eyes. You’re both tiptoeing around the same question, you assume, but it’s on you to take the plunge.

“What… what do you mean then?” he asks.

“About this date…” His lightheartedness completely disappears. You feel bad for ruining the mood but it’s too late now and you need to get it out, you owe him that much. “Copia… It wasn’t a blind date on my part. I… I knew it was you.”

“You knew it was me?” he asks and again his features change, eyes wide now. He really had no idea that people knew the ad was his and suddenly he feels like a fool.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start.” You stare at his gloved hand but you’re too scared to take it. “I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you.”

“You knew it was me and you still… you still wrote to me? You still came?”

You furrow your brow. “I didn’t tell you because then I would have had to admit that it’s me and I was scared that maybe you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”

“Me? Not… not…” He shakes his head so fast that his fedora once again threatens to fly off. “Oh, tesoro, I would have… I would have been on the moon with joy, as they say. Yes, yes, I would have.”

You don’t correct him. Instead, an insecure smile settles on your face. “You know you don’t have to say that, Copia, it’s okay if you were hoping for someone else… That’s the risk of going on a blind date, right?”

He yanks your hand out of your lap, wrapping it up in both of his gloved ones. “Tesoro, can I be very honest with you?”

You nod. “Of course you can. Always.”

“I was hoping it was you.”

Your breath catches and steals your next words. The same incredulity that hit him earlier now settles in your chest and you can’t find it in you to question him.

Copia immediately fills the silence. “I never… I never thought…” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, a nervous swallow, before he wets his lips. “Tesoro, you were always very good to me. I always saw your kindness, you understand this, yes? Don’t get me wrong, I just… I never thought you were interested in me like this. In such a silly old man.”

You have to giggle through your nerves. “I love that you’re a silly old man.”

He smiles shyly. “You are very sweet, tesoro.”

“I’ve actually had this crush for a few months now,” you admit, encouraged by his positive reaction. “And I want you to know that when I saw your ad I thought about calling even before I knew it was you.”

His smile grows impossibly bigger at that. “Did you?”

A nod. Copia squeezes your hand, then brings it to his face for a kiss. You feel his wet lips on your skin and they’re so soft, so gentle. When he sets your hand back down you see a trace of black lipstick on its back and instantly feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Should we start then?” he asks. “I brought a lot of things, let me show you.”

The basket opens to reveal a plethora of food and drink options. Copia sets down a foil-wrapped plate with sandwiches that look a little wonky so you assume he made them himself, then some juice boxes, apple and orange, a box of fresh, delicious-looking strawberries, two bottles of water, reusable plastic cups and plates. At last, he hands you one of many different muffins he must have stolen from the kitchens.

“For my dolcezza,” he says with a smile.

More heat spreads in your cheeks as you take the little treat from him with a thanks. You’re both visibly losing your nervousness now, your postures less cramped, stretching out your limbs on the blanket with your bodies angled towards each other.

“Maybe we should… talk a bit about us?” Copia proposes. “To get to know each other, sì? I would like to learn about you.”

“Oh, yes, that sounds good. Do you want to start?”

He thinks on a good starter question, the pressure clouding his thoughts for a moment but then his silence grows thick and he has to say something. “So, ugh… do you like Star Wars?”

This is not one of the questions on his list of conversation starters. For some reason, every single meaningful thought suddenly leaves him. Luckily, this simple, safe question seems to put you at ease and you relax even more.

“I do,” you say. “I watched all the movies.”

“Oh, good! And what is your favorite?”

You pluck a piece from your muffin, popping it into your mouth. “Hmm… The Empire Strikes Back, I think.”

“Hehehe, sì, sì, I am your daddy.” His eyes widen. “Not that I’m… I don’t mean… you know, the scene with Luke… ugh. So, anyway, yes, that is my favorite as well.”

You giggle and he lights up, smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. You reach for one of the sandwiches then. Copia helps, holding the plate up for you.

“So, these are all inspired by Italian foods. I have ugh… caprese. Mozzarella and tomato?”

You reach for the one he showed you. “That sounds great, thank you.”

Copia can’t help but stare as he awaits your reaction. You hum in delight and immediately take another bite of the soft bread. Satisfied, Copia allows himself to grab one as well now. Conversation slows down as you eat but you continue to talk about your interests between bites, finding more and more similarities as the minutes pass.

Your little spot is beautiful, cool enough to sit comfortably but warm enough to feel the reviving effects of spring. The leaves above you rustle every now and then, birds and bees flying past, the odd ant crawling over your blanket in search of some crumbs. Neither one of you is bothered as you sip on your juice boxes in tandem and intuitively increase your proximity.

With your bodies gravitating towards each other like that, you end up sitting very close after a while. Copia reclines against the tree trunk, pulling his hat down to grant him more shade, a little bit like a cowboy leaning against the walls of a saloon. His white suit is an odd contrast to his relaxed pose, not the most comfortable outfit to lounge in. Without thinking too much about it, he pulls you close to him and angles you so you can rest your head in his lap.

You’re only tense for a short moment. Copia gets rid of his gloves and you can feel his bare fingers running over your scalp. The steady pattern he draws calms you and you sigh, closing your eyes for a few minutes as a warm feeling of safety spreads out in you.

Copia can’t help but stare. Despite the initial hiccup, you’re so comfortable around each other that he feels like he’s known you forever. This is a dream come true for him, all his fantasies, his wishes, his longings, they all seem to come together in the lovely face dozing in his lap. You’re the most stunning sight he ever had the pleasure to behold. Every line, every hair, every mole, blemish or scar combines into the most beautifully painted canvas – and to him, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

“Do you want a strawberry, tesorino?” he asks then.

You open your sparkly eyes and they reflect a speck of sunlight breaking through the canopy. Blinking a few times, you shift in his lap to avoid being blinded. He tenses as your cheek narrowly misses his groin, but then you nod and he distracts himself by reaching for the box of strawberries.

With careful fingers, he grabs one of the shiny heart-shaped fruits, making sure to touch the stem to avoid any stains, and then guides it to your mouth. He can’t help but stare as he sees your lips part for him, the tip of your tongue peeking out to welcome the sweetness. You sink your teeth into the red flesh, so eager, and spatters of juice stain your lips. They appear even more saturated as you lick them clean, wetting them with your tongue, and he so desperately wants to kiss you.

“They’re so sweet already,” you say, taking the rest of the fruit from his hand.

“Yes, I agree.”

You giggle. “Copia, you haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the strawberries.”

You huff out a flustered breath, fighting the still evident smile on your face, and hold the half-eaten strawberry up to his mouth. “Try.”

He lets you feed him with burning cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his teeth meet the flesh, a few droplets of juice fall astray but he doesn’t even care if they ruin his suit anymore. He can’t stop looking at you, thinking about your soft hand so close to his mouth. He wants to kiss it again, desperately, and so he traps it with his when you try to pull away. With his lips pressed to your palm, he closes his eyes, kissing all the way down to your wrist where he lingers.

You gasp softly, lips parting as Copia continues to drag his lips over the delicate skin. Your reaction brings a smirk to his face, another moment that he’s going to think about for days to come.

“I tried, dolcezza,” he says. “And I think you’re still sweeter.”

You blush so prettily at that. Flustering you is easier than he expected and he takes notes of every little thing that draws a reaction from you. You spend another hour like this, eating fruit, drinking juice, chatting about all sorts of things while you exchange soft touches and words of your blossoming affection. At some point, the gentle breeze that carries on throughout the afternoon becomes stronger, and more and more people head back inside to escape a possible weather change.

Neither one of you wants to leave but as you start to shiver more violently, Copia’s worry about you catching a cold wins over his desire to prolong your date. He proposes to head inside as well, running his hands over the goosebumps on your bare arms to warm you up.

When you reluctantly agree, he starts to pile your dishes and the leftover food into the basket. You move to help but he stops you with a tut. “I will pack this up, eh? Don’t worry about it.”

“I could help you, you know.”

“Ah, no no. I invited you, yes? It is my pleasure.”

It only takes him a few minutes to pack everything up. You grab your flowers in the meantime and he watches from the corner of his eye as you sniff them with a growing smile on your face, swaying slightly from left to right. As Copia shakes out the blanket, folding it messily in the middle, you hesitate by the edge of your little picnic spot.

“So, do you want to walk back together?” you ask.

Copia smiles, glad that you don’t want to leave him quite yet. “I would like that a lot, tesoro. Should I carry the roses for you?”

You hand them over and he places them on the lid of the basket before he carefully picks it up. When he’s by your side again, you stop him with a hand on his forearm, the same gentle squeeze you gave him the last time. Only this time you don’t leave. Instead you lean in and press a soft kiss to his reddened cheek, your lips lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. Copia opens his mouth but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he uses his unoccupied hand to fish for yours.

Hand in hand, palm against palm, you walk past the leftover groups of Siblings that make use of the last few moments of sun. Neither of you spares anyone else even a glance. Whenever your eyes aren’t focused on the path ahead, they meet each other, giddy, love-sick smiles gracing your lips.

As you finally pass the first archway and enter the cool stone corridors of the abbey, Copia suddenly stops. Your arms slowly extend as you take a few more steps but before your hand can slip from his, he pulls you back. Maybe he used a little bit too much force or maybe he just caught you by surprise, but you practically stumble into his arms. A gasp falls from your lips. You make no attempt at breaking away and so Copia gently guides you against the frame of the archway, setting down the basket in the process so he can place his other hand on your hip.

Big eyes look up into his. He leans in slowly. The rim of his hat catches the stone and it finally slips from his head, dropping somewhere. Copia doesn’t care because he can already feel your sweet strawberry breath on his lips and nothing could stop him from getting a taste. Your hands impatiently grab at his lapels, then, pulling him even closer, and he gasps at the force of your need. With your eyes falling closed, lips slightly parted and your chin tilted up, Copia feels like he’s in a dream.

“Please,” you whisper.

He has to fight a moan, the word resonating somewhere deep inside his belly. Still, he draws out the moment for as long as he can, stalling as the tension crackles in the tiny space that separates you. He starts by nuzzling your nose while he pushes his hand upwards until he can grasp your jaw. As he angles your head just right, he feels your lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He fights off a giggle as they continue to tickle his skin and you shift slightly against him, growing impatient.

“Co–”

His mouth swallows your next syllable. You hum against him as his lips capture yours with gentle adoration. The grip on your waist tightens at the same time as his thumb presses into your cheek. Want, need, trickles into your belly and Copia feels the same way, moving his mouth against yours with slightly more pressure. The kiss is still slow, still tame, but it’s unmistakable how much stowed up desire for the other you both hold inside.

For a while you continue like this, your body trapped between Copia and the cool stone and the world around you a mere shadow. You open your mouth for air and that’s when you can feel his tongue cautiously pushing against yours. The sensation makes you feel even more fuzzy, the need for oxygen forgotten as you tangle your tongue with his. The taste is sweet, residues of fruit and juice, and underneath it all you feel Copia. Copia.

You only break away when you’re both struggling to keep up the pace. He’s a mess, his lipstick gone, black smears covering his chin and cheeks where his eye make-up rubbed off. You lift your hand to wipe some of your mingled spit off of his chin and the blissful expression on his face makes you smile. You love to see his face ruined like this, you decide. And Copia, seeing the lipstick-smears all over your kiss-swollen mouth, unknowingly thinks the same.

“We should do this again sometime,” you say. “The date but also… this. Actually, I think we should do it again right now.”

Copia chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. “How about we never stop doing it?”

You nod your approval, wrapping your arms around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, if a little bit sweaty, messy from the loss of his hat. “I would like that a lot, Copia.”

“I mean it, tesoro,” he whispers with a hint of insecurity. “I don’t want to stop spending time with you. Ever. We already wasted enough of it.”

A big smile breaks out on your face. Copia can’t help but return it, squeezing you a little tighter to his body, and you giggle happily as he kisses your nose.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “Let’s not waste another moment.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this silly little story – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

#i dedicate this to all of my awkward cardinal lovers #been dying to write more of him since the christmas fic #cardinal copia #copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #copia fluff #cardinal copia fluff #copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader

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callofdudes · 1 year

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Hello how are you are you good? May I ask for some headcanons? Please make it longer if possible. A wonderful cook with a female reader. For Ghost Simon and (separately)Konig, please? if you do this can you tag me in the post too please? have a nice day

No I totally didn't lose this in my drafts while trying to come up with stuff. I do hope the length is ok, sorry that it took so long 😓

Y'all are wholesale today! I like it! Thank you for the request @simligul I tried to make it as long as I could so I hope you enjoy.

Female! Cook x The Tall Boys.

(Each tall boy sold separately)

Ghost:

He cannot cook to save his life. He knows how to put honey on bread and that is the extent of his knowledge.

He's gotten used to the MRE's that they're mandated to eat, but the first time you cook him a meal from scratch he falls more than he thought he ever could.

This man straight up either eats MRE's when he's at home or orders skip the dishes constantly to the point where it's kind of unhealthy.

Before you were living together he didn't know you could cook. He'd taken you out to restaurants but hadn't ever witnessed you active in a kitchen before.

So when he does...

You smile when he approached the kitchen, curious of the wonderful smells that are being produced. His nose leads him right to you in your apron with stains all over the cloth.

"What is this?" He asks, admiring the scene from the doorway and the apron you wore.

"What do you think? I'm making food."

He poked his head around and eyed the different ingredients simmering and popping in pans on the stove and his stomach cries out loudly. He looks back at you and you laugh at how he's practically begging you with his eyes. "Get out of my kitchen, I'll call you when it's done!"

He will come back every now and then to check on you (and the food).

When you finally set up the table and call him to eat he is borderline hyper. He sees all the steaming beautiful food and he will devour it all.

You are too good for him. Before he even sits down he will assure you that it looks absolutely delicious.

When he does manage to sit down and starts eating his stomach is beyond grateful. He had gotten so used to eating MRE's that he had genuine forgotten what it was like to eat a real meal. When he gets through the first three thrill bites his stomach grows three times the size. You yourself are a bit surprised by how much he ate. You barely had any leftovers to pack up.

Full of food and warm he'll hug you from behind while your washing the dishes and mutter thanks into your neck.

He'll hang around you for the rest of the evening and gratefully crash next to you in pure bliss.

From the day you first cooked for him forth Ghost longs for the days when he can return from war to your loving arms and a home cooked meal.

After going back to camp he'll occasionally mention that the food there tastes like shit compared to what you can make. This causes Soap to want to come with him on leave just to taste your food.

"I've missed you." He'll hug you close and rest against you for a while before taking off his head and stepping into the living room. Before he can even take his boots off he can smell the thick aroma of food. His stomach praises you loudly, making you giggle.

He takes off all his things and kisses you before going over to the kitchen. Again he will praise you for every bit of food on the table.

If he comes home after you've already packed up for bed, he'll check the fridge for food and there will be a little sticky note on the containers of leftovers. "Hey love. Sorry I couldn't be there to greet you. Tonight's dinner is xyz, have as much as you'd like."

He misses you when he isn't able to come back for the holidays. He loves hanging out with you around Christmas and Thanksgiving. But the food you make is so good around the holidays. He's always surprised by just how much effort you put into meals.

He tries to keep mention of you around base low. While he enjoys talking about you, he doesn't like the constant teasing from the others. But when Johnny starts to hear more about how good a cook you supposedly are, he is on his knees begging to come back to Simon's home with him for the holidays. And Simon was going to refuse, until somehow he didn't.

He thought you were going to be abrasive about all the guests when he showed up at his home with Price, Johnny, and Kyle right behind him, but you welcomed them with open arms.

Ghost smiled when you opened your arms and welcomed Price into your home. How you smiled so kindly and you were genuinely happy they were there.

There was no anger for being intruded on or barging to reach your husband, it was heartwarming to watch how you treated them.

When you'd met everyone and shaken their hands, you greeted Simon who was still taking his coat off. But that didn't matter. You pulled him into a short kiss before urging him toward the couch.

Simon and Price tried to help you with setting up the guest bedroom but you weren't having it.

"You lot must be exhausted. Sit, I'll have supper prepared in an hour." Simon smiled. "You're wonderful." You shoved him down onto the couch. "Rest, hang out with your friends." And you walked off to start preparing the guest room for the three.

You were right to assume they were exhausted. They tore their gear off and settled down on the couches. Finally getting to watch some good TV.

They didn't bother to move for the rest of the evening until you called them to dinner.

"Dinner is served boys!"

Kyle and Johnny were the first ones up and sprinting for the kitchen. Their stomachs empty of anything but the McDonald's they'd had early before their flight out.

Johnny was in heaven when he came in and saw the food. It was enough to feed a small army. He grabbed your hands and shook them roughly. "Oh Mrs. Riley you're an angel." You chuckled and handed him a plate as Simon and Price came in to inspect the food. "Take as much as you'd like, don't worry about leftovers and if I need to make more I can."

"Thank you ma'am." Price served himself.

Once they'd vacated the kitchen Simon gave you another kiss and took what the boys had left. "Do you want any?" He asked.

"Have it darling. You deserve it."

The boys were impressed with your cooking the first time. But when the 25 of December rolled around three days later it was a feast. You were happy to have Simon's friends along with your family for Christmas.

"Any friend of Simon's is a friend of mine. You are always welcome in our home."

Jokingly you get Simon a cookbook for Christmas so he can take it to the base with him. Whenever he gets the chance to go shopping (which is rarely) at least he'll be able to make something comprehendable with the foods.

Simon does eventually ask you to teach him to cook. And you'd thought he'd never ask. You started with basic recipes, something he could remember easily and come back to. A starter. And then you got out of hand. Sauce all over your apron and Simon getting his oil covered fingers all over you.

You taught him to bake as well. Because who else is going to make the 141 cookies? You couldn't keep sending them in boxes every month when mail slots opened up.

Simon enjoys baking more than cooking. He will lick all the utensils. If you're making chocolate cookies he'll lick the spoon/spatula/whisk, whatever you used he'll lick it clean. And you need to constantly supervise him when baking because will 100% eat raw cookie dough without fear of consequences.

"Simon! Don't eat that! You'll get sick!"

"fuck off!" He'll say as he playfully pushes you away and grabs another handful of dough.

If he ever comes across a dish he likes or thinks he'd like, he'll send a picture of it to you. When he goes to Mexico Rodolfo takes care of meals for the group and If Ghost likes something he'll hint you off like, "Hey Y/N, look at this really delicious looking dish... A shame I'll only be able to eat it once. Unless..."

Another thing he enjoys about it, is not just the food. But watching you cook. You have a smile on your face the whole time and you seem in utter bliss to cook for you, him, or anyone else.

And the apron.

Teasingly pulling on the strings from behind you or helping you take it off. It's small but it manages to mesmerize him every time.

If you are part of the military most of this still stands, when you first cool for him and the boys he's stunned and amazed. Maybe he's a little annoyed that you didn't start making food sooner when everyone was bitching and moaning about MRE's.

In the very, very, very rare instances where Simon is sick you're the type to not let him out of bed. Simon is either so sick he's unable to move or he can power through it, there is no difference to you. You'll lay him in bed and bring in a warm bowl of soup. And while Simon protests you'll cup his jaw and help him eat.

"I don't need help-"

"Shh, lay down Simon, let me take care of you."

"I hate how sweet you are."

"I love you too."

König:

König knows a little about cooking, but not a lot. His mother taught him him how to make basic cultural dishes including some sweets.

He enjoys cooking on the occasion but the military doesn't offer him much for culinary adventure. So he's become less fluent. Put him in a kitchen however and he could make you a warm meal from his heart.

When you first cook for him, his mouth is watering. He's absolutely starving when he gets home from base and his surprise when he came to see you and your house was swimming with the smells of culinary love.

He'll slip into the kitchen and eyeball all the stuff that's going on. In a heartbeat he's on his knees for whatever your making.

"Darling- please! I haven't eaten a proper meal in so long!"

"Get out of my Kitchen König, I will call you when it's ready. Just rest."

This man will sit by the corner of your kitchen. He will make sure he's pressed up against the wall but not entering the space. He'll crawl into a ball and whimper to make sure you remember he's sitting there.

"König, it'll only take a couple of minutes." You chuckled when he starts to slowly drag himself back into the kitchen hoping you wouldn't notice.

When you finish up he is giving you the biggest puppy eyes he can. It's as if his irises grew in size, they're practically sparkling when you motion with your finger and he jumps up. "YES! Thank you!"

He grabs a plate and doesn't hold back to shovel food onto his plate and rush to the table to consume it all. There is barely enough for you this big boy took so much.

He's scarfing it down when you take your seat and all you can do is just lovingly stare at him. His eyes are practically glazed over when he tastes it on his tongue.

"Darling, this is absolutely amazing, thank you."

"You're welcome König, you deserve it."

This man goes into a full food comma. When he's out his plate in the dishwasher he goes and passes out on the couch. You find it absolutely adorable.

He's just passed out. Usually when König comes back home it takes him at least a day or two to take the hood off and another couple to full relax. But tired and full it's the first time you've seen him throw his hood on the coffee table and just pass out without a worry.

You're not even complaining.

König and you exchange recipes. While you teach him some of the dishes he doesn't know how to make, he'll show you how to make dishes from his home.

When he gets back he will not shut up about you. He won't tell new recruits or other members unless their already friends, subject of his anxiety. But he loves to talk about you with his small group of friends and his operatives team. You're his shining light.

When he starts digging into military food again his head is just filling with all the ways you could cook this so much better and slop in a tube was just as bad as it was when he first signed up.

He finds himself getting particularly homesick now whenever he eats food that is not cooked by you. He always thinks about the dish and it will relate back to you in some way.

After König teaches you to make his favorite sweets, you make sure to send him a tightly sealed box of them every month for him. (If they can survive over time ofc)

He shares with his team because he wants them to also taste your baking and cooking. He will proudly tell them how wonderful you are and after tasting the sweets they all agree.

König is a little more lenient with his leave time, so he gets to see you somewhat more often then others. When he returns again around Thanksgiving he isn't expecting utterly extravagant meal he finds.

He slouched against the door, tired and gross. He looks up when you come over. Your apron on and your hair up. You gasp when you see him. "I thought you were coming back tomorrow?"

König tiredly shakes his hand and opens his arms for you to rush into. He's sore but he hugs you tightly. You smell of freshly baked goods and spices. He breathes you in deeply and he knows he's home. He sighs and nuzzles his forehead against yours.

"I've got food on the table love, come join whenever you're ready."

"Thank you meine liebe."

When he does join you he takes in all the smells of home. His mind and his body starting to relax just at the hand of the fruits of your labor.

You guide him to the table and get him a plate. The area is well lit when he returns to make him feel comfortable.

The two of you will talk as he eats. And it's not unusual for him to go back for seconds or thirds. Sometimes if he's extra hungry he'll raid the pantry for food.

Crashing in bed after a warm meal is the best feeling. His stomach sated, he wraps his arms around you and feels his worries slip away.

You crawl in bed next to him and snuggle up against him. "Goodnight" and despite his food coma, König pulls you to his chest, content to stay here forever.

When he's on leave he offers to bring Horangi back to stay with you both, just so you can taste the food. He has no plans for his leave except sitting in the kitchen and enjoying whatever warm meal you've set up for him.

Bringing Horangi back then were both incredibly excited about your cooking. König could almost taste it and Horangi had heard many good things.

You were overjoyed to have Horangi over and cooked a feast for the two. Horangi's mouth was watering and all König could say was "Seeeee!"

Both König and Horangi sit by the kitchen entrance, watching you like cats going back and forth, back and forth.

The smell of the food is not lost on them when you bring them into the kitchen finally. Seeing everything you've prepared.

"This looks stunning ma'am, thank you a thousand times for having me." Horangi took your hands and squeezed them, unable to contain his excitement. Or his hunger. His stomach started to snarl before he could finish his expression of gratitude.

You once again stand back and let the men eat what the want. You weren't at all surprised when Horangi had just the appetite that König did.

It was funny watching them talk while they feasted, occasionally melting and having a brain aneurysm over how good it was.

Compared to the food on base, Horangi will now get on his knees and kiss the ground you walk on. You are a fucking angel for taking care of him when he comes over.

He will not stop talking about "König's wife can cook!! And you don't get any of it, because you're not invited! 😏"

König is just glad you're there for his friends, willing to provide hospitality and food. You can't turn down anyone it seems.

But he wouldn't change that about you.

He loves to dance in the kitchen with you. If you're cooking something and you have music in the background, König will come over, hands cupping your waist and drawing you toward him.

"And what are you doing??" You hold a spatula covered in sauce up to him and he licks it happily. "What does it look like??" You pulls you in and twirls you around the kitchen.

"König, watch out for the stove." You giggle.

He keeps turning and spinning you, pressing kisses to your throat and cheeks.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too you big goof."

He smiles, nuzzling against your neck, the smell of the spices imprinting on your skin. They must have. After you've cooked an apple pie you still smell of cinnamon. And it drives him crazy.

König loves you so much, he wouldn't dream his life any other way. And certainly not without you in it. He gives you another kiss and you shove him out of your kitchen.

"Food isn't really yet."

"But looooove-!" He whines.

"No, you'll have to wait. Like a good boy." You smirk.

He huffs, but he can't say no to that. So he plops down and sits longingly at the entrance of the kitchen, watching you as you cook.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #konig headcanons #konig x reader #könig headcanons #könig cod #könig x reader

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suugarbabe · 7 months

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m.r. x reader

based off this prompt: Hello could you make a either mattheo or Theo fanfic with a Hufflepuff!fem reader? With him just finger edging reader while they're blindfolded and he's also holding they're hands while doing so? I hope it's not too much trouble 😅

an: I cannot for the life of me find the ask that this prompt was sent in with but it was in my drafts for requests so i wrote it. if you requested this i hope you find it and like it !

warnings: edging, smut, 18+ MDNI

One of your favorite things about being with Mattheo is that no one expected it. One of Mattheo’s favorite things about being with you is that no one, ever, would imagine that the seemingly shy, sweet, Hufflepuff girl had the dirtier mind in the relationship.

If someone were to walk into Mattheo’s dorm room right now, they would assume your compromising position was all his idea. But in reality, you had proposed it to him after class, planting the seed of your desire in the back of his mind and causing him to not be able to focus on anything until he was able to have his hands on you.

That’s how you ended up sprawled out on his bed, green and silver tie wrapped around your head like a blindfold and your hands pinned over your head in one of Mattheo’s large hands. Your back arched off the mattress and pushed your perked nipples further into Mattheo’s mouth, his tongue delicately swirling over the taut bud while two of his fingers were deep inside your soaked cunt.

You could feel the tightening in your stomach spreading to your core and causing you to clench tight around his fingers. You were so close, and then his touch was gone. A pathetic whimper left your throat. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear the smirk plastered on his face as he teased you, “Oh, Princess, I’m sorry, were you close?”

His touch was feather light against your folds, causing you to jolt up in search for more, “Ah, ah, be a good girl for me and you’ll get what you want.” A pout painted your lips, quickly disappearing as you felt Mattheo’s teeth on your bottom lip before pressing his lips fully to yours.

He sunk two fingers back into you, curling deliciously against the spongy flesh inside. Mattheo brough you right to the edge again before pulling his fingers out once more.

“P-please, Teo. I need it so bad, need you to make me cum all over your fingers. Wanna make a mess all over your fingers before I make a mess of your cock.”

“Such a dirty mouth on such a perfect girl,” Mattheo was nearly growling in your ear and your hips were bucking again. He didn’t tease you this time, plunging his fingers deep inside you once more, curling and pumping as your breathing became more shallow, airy whisps of his name falling from your lips as you finally tumbled over the edge. As you came down from your high, Mattheo removed his tie from your eyes, “Was I too mean, Princess?” He stroked your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him, “No, Teo, it was good, very good.” He laughed a little before pulling you on top of him, kissing you deeply once more.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fic #golden era

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janeyseymour · 1 month

Text

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 10

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Summary: With your ex-husband in town, this is sure to be interesting.

WC: ~2.4k

I’m in Philly this weekend. We should talk.

The good mood that you were in from waking up in your girlfriend’s arms sours at that text, and she notices.

“Hey,” she whispers as she kisses your temple, also rolling out of bed. “You’re upset.”

“I’m not,” you shrug. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you sigh. “I should probably go check on El. You comin’?”

The redhead nods and follows you into Ellie’s room, where she’s playing on the floor with a few of her dolls.

“Momma! Mel!” she grins up at the two of you. Immediately, she’s launching herself at you, and if either her or Melissa notice the way that you cling to your daughter only a bit desperately they don’t say anything. You lift your little girl onto your hip and hold her close, smoothing down her wild locks and kissing her temple. Melissa follows suit, and she grins when Ellie kisses her cheek back.

“Breakfast?” your daughter looks to your girlfriend with those sweet eyes of hers.

“Obviously,” Melissa chuckles. “And what does the princess want?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes!” Ellie cheers. When you give her a look, she quickly adds on a, “Pretty please!”

The three of you head for the kitchen, and while your daughter and your girlfriend mix the batter together and start heating up the griddle, you stare at your phone contemplating what you should do.

“Penny for your thoughts, hun?” Melissa breaks your trance as she sets a plate full of the breakfast food in front of you. Ellie comes bouncing over with the butter and syrup a few short moments later.

“We can talk later,” you tell her softly. “When we take El to the park.”

Once you finally get Ellie ready for the park and get yourself ready, you head out. Melissa drives the two of you there, and as soon as she can, Ellie is running for the swings. You and your girlfriend walk hand in hand to find a park bench to sit on and keep an eye on your little girl.

“So, what has my girl down?” the redhead asks you once she’s sure your daughter can’t hear her.

“Jared texted me. Said he’s in Philly, and we should talk.”

Her face flickers through a few different emotions before settling on a neutral face. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly? Like I never want to see him again, but I also have El to think about. He is still her father.”

“And he gave up his parental rights,” she reminds you. “Willingly, and without hesitation.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh as you set your head on her shoulder. “But if he wants to reach out in order to stay in Ellie’s life, I cannot deprive my child of her father.”

“You can,” she tells you.

“But it wouldn’t be right… especially because El… she loved her Daddy before everything got messy.”

“It’s up to you, hun,” your girlfriend says. “But I would be cautious.”

“I know, I know,” you mutter.

Ellie has a blast at the park like she always does, but after about an hour she’s running back to you with rosy cheeks and telling you she’s sleepy. Melissa carries her back to the car, and in the short ten minute drive back to the apartment complex, she falls asleep in her carseat clutching one of the stuffed animals Melissa keeps in her car now. You lift her out of her carseat and hold her tightly as you make your way up to your apartment. You settle on the couch with her, still in your arms while your girlfriend heads for the kitchen.

“Are you good if I make eggplant parm?” she calls softly.

“That sounds great,” you sigh out.

As she cooks dinner, humming quietly to herself, you continue to torture yourself with the pros and cons of texting Jared back. Ultimately, you tell him that if he’s serious, you can meet him for coffee tomorrow- preferably around the time when Melissa will be going to mass.

His response is almost an immediate one. So the two of you set a time and a place, and you know that come tomorrow morning, you’re going to have to make an excuse to your girlfriend as to why you can’t join her for the church service tomorrow.

Ellie stays asleep up until Melissa calls in that dinner is ready. She clings to the redhead through dinner, claiming that she’s warmer than you are. Despite Melissa trying to get her to stay with you (she knows you need Ellie to keep you grounded right now), your daughter insists on staying in her lap.

Your routine through the end of the night goes on as usual, and when you and Melissa finally lay down for bed, you have an awful pit in your stomach as you prepare to lie to her.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you mumble with your head on her chest. “But I’m not feeling too great right now.”

“Oh?” Melissa looks at you. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just… cramps. Probably PMS.”

She’s immediately out of bed and grabbing some ibuprofen and the heating pad, and you feel even more guilty at your lie. Melissa is so willing to take care of you and love you through everything.

You’re lulled to sleep with the extra warmth provided by the heat on your abdomen as well as your girlfriend gently combing her fingers through your hair and her soft humming.

The next morning, you wake up and you wish that you were lying to Melissa when you said that your cramps were awful- they really are. But you also know that this is going to be the perfect way to get out of going to the long church service with her, and you know she’ll take Ellie with her to let you ‘rest’.

She does, and you stay in bed until they both head out. And then you run around like a maniac trying to make yourself look presentable to meet your ex-husband.

You arrive at the coffee shop you agreed to meet at, and he’s already sitting with two cups in front of him. You drop into the seat across from his, and he pushes one of the cups in your direction.

“Hey!” he smiles at you, and it’s that damned charming smile that made you fall for him in the first place.

You stare at him for a few minutes in a steely silence. Why did you come here? “What do you want?” is all you ask him as you take a sip of the coffee in hopes of it soothing your nerves. You cradle your abdomen in hopes that your cramps begin to subside soon.

“Damn,” he chuckles. “I come all the way out here to meet you, and that’s the greeting I get?”

“I didn’t ask you to. What do you want?” you ask him again.

He looks a bit stunned that this is the approach you’ve decided to take with him. He’s so used to you being meek and mild, warm and gentle. “I just wanted to catch up.”

“I’m doing just fine out here, with my daughter,” you say shortly.

His eyes go soft. “How is Ellie?”

“She’s fine.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” your ex sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry about everything that happened.”

“You should be,” you laugh bitterly. “You broke apart our family, and for what? To go fuck someone newer and younger? Tighter?” you quote back one of his texts to Jen that you saw after you caught him in bed with her.

“Y/N, I was an idiot,” he tells you. You nod with a smirk. “I came out here to tell you that I want us to get back together.”

“Not a chance in hell,” you snort.

“Then at least let me see Ellie,” he tries. “C’mon. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” you tell him. “You cheated on me, and then signed away your parental rights without hesitation. And I’m still waiting for all of your child support money. So, I see it that if I don’t have the money in my hand by the end of this meeting-”

“Where is Ellie?” he asks quietly. “I was hoping she would be with you.”

“With our neighbor,” you say. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You left her with your neighbor?” he asks you incredulously.

You nod. “I did. I trust Melissa- my girlfriend.”

He raises both of his eyebrows at that reveal. “Moved on so quick?”

“You moved on before you even took your ring off, so don’t give me any fucking shit, Jared,” you hiss out. “Babysitter fucker.”

“I didn’t realize you still swung that way. I thought I fucked the gay out of you,” he smirks.

“Oh, eat shit,” you stand from your place and throw your hot coffee in his face. “Don’t bother getting in touch unless it’s to fork over the child support. If I don’t have it by the end of the month, I will be getting a lawyer.”

You head out to leave the shop, and who do you run into on your way out the door but Melissa and Ellie. Your girlfriend gives you quite the questioning look, considering you were sick in bed an hour ago.

“Momma!” your little girl shouts as she slams into your body to hug you.

You groan softly at the contact, but lift her into your arms and hold her tightly, praying she doesn’t see her father. Melissa kisses you at the same time that Ellie gasps, points, and shouts, “Daddy!”

You close your eyes and give a face of pure defeat. You were just caught.

“Ellie girl!” your ex-husband replies with the same amount of enthusiasm, and your daughter is wiggling her way out of your arms to run over to her father. He scoops her up into the biggest hug, despite the fact that he’s still covered in your beverage.

“You came here to meet Jared?” Melissa whispers as she eyes the man.

You nod sheepishly before attempting to make your way over to the two of them. You have to stop about halfway there, gasping in pain as your stomach twists in knots. Your girlfriend follows, an arm wrapped around you protectively.

“Daddy, you’re all wet!” Ellie giggles.

“You know Daddy,” he chuckles in the easy way that he used to with her. “Clumsy, clumsy.”

“Silly Daddy,” your little girl playfully rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically.

“How are you, little girl?”

Your daughter grins as she launches into her stories. “I love it here! I love school, and Momma and I go to the park all the time with Miss Mel like we are today!” she points to Melissa. “That’s Miss Mel, and I love her. She’s my favoritest person in the whole wide world!”

You have to bite back a snort when you see the hurt expression on his face, and you beam when you see your girlfriend’s proud look. You don’t even care that you aren’t your daughter’s favorite person right now because at least it isn’t him.

“And Miss Ellie’s favorite person in the world brought her down here to pick up some coffee and doughnuts for being such a good little girl at church today,” Melissa cuts in. “Which I think we should do, what do you think El?”

The little girl absolutely beams as she remembers why they’re here, and she runs for the redhead.

They head off towards the counter, and your eyes turn to stone again as you face your ex-husband.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play here, but quit it. You’re not getting her back,” you hiss. You turn on your heel and make your way up to where your girlfriend and daughter are ordering.

“I already ordered your coffee,” Melissa tells you with a kiss to the temple. She readjusts Ellie so she can grab her wallet from her pocket, but before she can insert the card, Jared is there handing over some money.

“I got this one,” he says cooly. “For my little girl, and my wife.”

There’s a fire in Melissa’s eyes, and before she can get anything out, Ellie pipes up. “You and Momma aren’t married anymore!”

Your mouth, along with Melissa’s and Jared’s, form into shocked faces. Your little girl is right.

“But thanks for breakfast anyway,” you laugh in his face. “Bye.”

You hope that he’ll just leave in anger, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his eyes even softer and his voice even smoother. “Well, I was hoping that I could maybe tag along to the park to spend some time with my little girl who I’ve missed so much.”

Fuck. Now he’s using Ellie against you, and you know your daughter will beg you to let him come.

“I missed you too, Daddy,” your daughter whispers softly, but she keeps her hold on Melissa.

“Not today, sweetheart,” the redhead says quietly as she runs a hand through your daughter’s hair. “Your momma isn’t feeling super well, so today is going to be an easy day.”

You nod along.

“Maybe another day this week then,” he shrugs. He isn’t giving up. “I’m here all week for a work conference.” With that, he kisses Ellie’s head, kisses your own, and then heads out.

A tense silence washes over Melissa and you as you wait for your coffees to finish being prepared. Ellie just hums to herself softly as she lays her head down on the redhead’s shoulder and fiddles with the ends of your girlfriend’s hair.

Your names are called, you grab the coffees, and make your way out to her car- you silently thank God that you won’t have to take the Septa now.

No words are spoken between you and your girlfriend for the entirety of the drive home, and when you make your way to your apartment, she turns for her own door.

“You aren’t coming in?” you ask quietly, and you hate the way that your voice breaks.

“I need ten minutes,” she says scarily calmly. “To change and collect myself.”

Fuck. She’s mad. Deciding that it’s best to give her the ten minutes she’s requested, you unlock your own front door and take Ellie to the kitchen table to enjoy her breakfast.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @nothere1111 @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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l-e-e-woso · 7 months

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Movin’ - Alexia Putellas

Italics = Spanish

2x Ballon D’or winner Alexia Putellas is set to move to Chelsea from Barcelona.

Fans are shocked to find out that Alexia Putellas is leaving Barcelona after 10 years.

Chelsea signed Alexia Putellas for a world record transfer fee of £700,000.

Alexia Putellas Instagram Post

“To all the fans, I will always love Barcelona with my whole heart but I need a new challenge. I was at Barca from a young age being there shaped who I am today, I would not be where I am today without the coaches and players of Barca. Especially the fans without you none of this would be possible.

To my Barca family, just know that I will always support you. You have my full support as long as you are not playing against Chelsea. I am only a phone call or text away, I will always be there for you all. You are all my family and I love you.

To Chelsea, I look forward to playing in blue, I’m told it brings out the colour in my eyes. I’m excited to win more trophies and have a new challenge. I cannot wait to meet my new teammates and training staff.

Thank you! Forca Barca! Forca Chelsea!”

Hear what Chelsea manager Emma Hayes has to say…

“I never thought the day where I would be able to sign Alexia Putellas would ever exist. Everyone knows how amazing of a player and person she is, she will fit in perfectly with all of the girls.

The way that she plays and how confident she is on the pitch is what we need in the team right now.

From what I know Alexia had a lot of teams trying to sign her but she chose Chelsea for a reason. To win trophies, to be challenged in a new way and she was really intrigued with the WSL. The WSL usually has about three or four teams that are very close on the table which no other country has. I think the fact that the result could change at any moment makes Alexia ecstatic to play here at Chelsea.”

______________________________

Alexia was very nervous when she got to the entrance of Chelsea’s womens training centre but she saw you leaning against the side of the building making her smile widely as she hadn’t seen you in awhile. She walked over to you wrapping you in a hug and kissed you passionately.

“I missed you.” Alexia says as a tear or two fell down her face as you held her against you. “I missed you too. Don’t cry!! You’ll make me cry and I won’t be able to stop cause of these stupid hormones!” You say as you wipe Alexia’s tears with the pads of your thumbs.

“How is my cariño?” Alexia says as she rubs her hand slowly over your stomach which was rather big since you were now 8 and a half months pregnant, you could literally go into labour at any moment.

The way that Alexia treated you now that you were pregnant made you fall in love with her even more than before, it made you even more excited to see how she was going to be with your daughter. You saw how little kids looked up to Alexia as a footballer and how she treated them like the most precious people in the world.

“Oh y’know apart from constantly pressing on my bladder making me need to go to the toilet every five seconds, she is all good!” You said as you lent into Alexia’s side as the two of you caught up before you would both have to go inside so Alexia could meet the rest of the Chelsea girls.

“I’m glad. I never thought we would finally get to start our family. I am so excited to meet her.” Alexia smiled at the thought of finally meeting the little girl that you were currently growing in your womb.

Alexia knew that her mother, Eli and her sister, Alba could not wait to meet the baby girl either. Eli had been waiting for a grandchild since you and Alexia got married three years ago which you understood in a way because you knew that Eli thought that she may never have a grandchild so when you told her you were pregnant she was ecstatic. Alba was also over the moon when she found out you were pregnant, she looked up to both you and Alexia so much so having a mini version of the two of you combined was amazing to her.

“Ale, you know you are going to have to speak English around the girls? None of them know a word of Spanish. I tried to teach them some but they found it too complicated. I think the only people you may need help understanding is Erin and possibly Sam but other than those two you should be fine. Plus I find it hot when you speak English, I love your accent.” You say to Alexia as you start to pull her into the training building by her hand and wink at her which makes her blush. It wasn’t that she couldn’t speak English she just preferred speaking Spanish because it made her less nervous, she also knew that she was more likely to fumble her words in English.

“Yes I know, mi amor. You have told me many times, almost everyday…Good to know maybe I’ll talk to you in English more often.” Alexia smirks as she sees you turn towards her and you glare at her playfully before continuing down the hallway.

______________________________

Eventually, you arrive at what everyone likes to call the team bonding room and you look at Alexia, she has a never expression as she grips your hand tightly.

“They will love you okay? I’ll be there the entire time. We most likely won’t have much time before you go to training.” You tell Alexia as she takes a deep breath to calm herself down which helps a lot.

“Okay thank you, mi amor. Vamos!” Alexia smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss before you open the door to the team bonding room which is filled with most of the Chelsea players.

Some of the girls looked up from their conversations, giving the both of you a quick smile before returning to their conversations. They didn’t want to overwhelm Alexia because they knew that she was nervous about meeting them due to you talking to them before Alexia had arrived.

The first person to come up and talk to Alexia was Magda. “Welcome to the team! It’s about time we get a Spanish person on this team.” Magda tries to lighten the situation which had clearly made Alexia really nervous, she hadn’t been to a new club in ten years so she had forgotten how it felt until now.

“Thank you. I’m excited to be here, not so excited about the weather though, it’s a big change from the weather in Spain.” Alexia says as she catches a glimpse of the rain through the window and grimaces slightly at the thought of training in that weather.

“I bet.” Millie laughs from where she was sitting talking to Sam and turns to look at Alexia. “Guess it’s time to get to know you, Alexia.” Magda says as she gestures for the both of you to sit down and you quickly do as you sigh in relief.

“Jesus, I swear this baby is gonna be the size of Bigfoot by the time she comes out.” You mutter unaware that Fran who was sitting next to you had heard you and she bursts out laughing. “Did you just call your child Bigfoot?” Fran chuckles as you glare at her before playfully hitting her arm and she goes to playfully hit you back when you grab her hand. “Feel this.” You mutter as you unzip your jacket and place Fran’s hand on your stomach where the baby was kicking like mad, making her eyes go wide in amazement.

Alexia watches you with a loving gaze as she talks with a few of the girls who wanted to know more about her. “How come you choose Chelsea? From what I understand you had a lot of offers.” Sam asks Alexia with curiosity and everyone wants to know the answer.

“The main reason is that we are about to start a family and I wanted to be here for all of it, I didn’t want to miss more than I already have. I also need to get out of Spain to have a new challenge and I’m sure that will happen here. I want to push myself as much as I can to help to win more trophies.” Alexia explains to everyone as they all nod along to her answer while smiling at her. Then Alexia looks over to you like she was asking permission to tell the team something to which you nodded.

“Also…after my contract ends in four years time, I’m going to be retiring. Dios mio, I will never get used to saying that..” Alexia mutters the last sentence while her new teammates looked at each other in shock that Alexia would be retiring and she chose Chelsea to be her last team. “Your going to retire?” Erin said kinda shocked, it isn’t everyday that a world class player announces that she will finish her career in four years. “Si, I have been thinking about retiring for quite a long time but that's not for a while.” Alexia said with a smile on her face as you held her hand to comfort her.

“Time for training!” You shout, scaring a couple of your teammates and everyone starts moving to the training field. Alexia grabbed your hand to help you up from your seat and walk with you slowly to a seat on the sidelines of the training pitch.

______________________________

Alexia was doing really well while training with her new teammates at Chelsea and was having fun, joking around with them and getting to know them.

She was laughing with Magda and Pernille when she heard her name being shouted by you on the sidelines making her face drop because it sounded like you were in pain, which you were since you were now in labour. She looked to Emma who just nodded and motioned her to go with you, she sprinted over to you.

It didn’t take long to get to the hospital, you weren’t sure that she went the speed limit but at that precise moment in time you didn’t care much about that you just wanted to get this baby out of you.

It was surprisingly quite a quick birth, at 7:48pm you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl called Elena Putellas Segura.

—————————————————

Taglist: @sofakingwoso @xxforeverinadayxx

#woso #woso x reader #barca femeni #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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angelltheninth · 2 years

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Aftercare fic with Daemon? I think he likes to get really, really rough but would treat his lover like his most important thing in the world afterwards.

I can see that absolutely. I love writing aftercare honestly. It's always so soft and gives me all the warm fuzzy feelings when thinking about it.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, aftercare, cuddles, bite marks, scratch marks, bruises, soothing kisses, praise, cockwarming, cum stays inside because Daemon has a breeding kink

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: Daemon would be a perfect combo of a rough dom and a caring lover. You can never convince me otherwise.

His breath is still hot against your ear, his grunts sending more tingles down your spine as his hands finally loosen their hold on your hips. He pulls away, his forehead briefly leaning against yours, "I'm afraid I got a little carried away with you darling. How do you feel?" His eyes are still almost entirely backed out, his lips grazing your own, almost making you want more.

You would take more if you could. "Tired." You breathe out a sigh, "I think we both got carried away. I can't even move. My body feels so heavy. But it's a good kind." Daemon huffs out a lough as he leans down a kisses your cheek.

You feel him shifting on top of you and instinctively wrap your legs around him. The fact that you did it so easily, without him even asking just goes to show how used you are to doing so.

"It's alright sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here. Inside you where I belong." He jolts his hips into you, making you gasp from how overstimulated you are, "Where my cum belongs."

You tighten around him, just thinking about feeling so full for the rest of the night makes your head spin and your body light up from the inside all over again. "Then maybe you should stay put, my prince."

"I plan to. But that doesn't mean my hands or mouth have to be. I have much to make up for. All these bruises and marks on you, someone has to kiss them better. It's my job as your husband to take care of you after all." He leans down and kisses the bite mark on your neck as his hands smooth over your bruised hips, down to massage your tense thighs, "To worship you."

For a few minutes you allow your body to relax, to enjoy the soft kisses and touches. The way he touches you now is so different from before. He was almost feral, rutting into you, telling you how good you look underneath him, full of his cock, how well he did to chose you, how good you are at taking his seed, how pretty you'll look when you're properly breed by him, cum spilling out everywhere between your trembling legs.

He treated you like he wanted to break you in half. And now he's being so gentle, the only evidence of the wild lovemaking being the marks he left, the warm cum filling up your pussy hole and the messy sheets and pillows.

"Darling... hm... you're going to get me hard again if you keep fluttering around me like that. Are you that insatiable?" You can hear the strain, as well as the slight anticipation in Daemon's voice. And if the slight throb of his dick is anything to go by he wouldn't mind going again either.

"Me? I was not the one who fucked the other back into consciousness. Do you have any idea what that feels like? How long was I out for anyways?" Daemon tilts his head a little, his damp hair falling over his forehead before you run your fingers through it.

"Thank you love." He closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth and comfort of your touch, "To answer your questions, you were out for a very short time. I barely had the time to get myself hard again. And no, I cannot say I've ever been fucked back into consciousness. Perhaps we should try it sometime, if you think you think you can make me black out that is."

You smirk and run your hands down his back, making him his as you press the pads of your fingers across the scratch marks you made there, "I'm always up for a challenge."

Daemon smiles, not grins but smiles, so soft and bright that one would not think him capable of it just going off rumors of him. You certainly didn't see him capable of such soft gestured when you first met. You've very glad that you decided to stick around to find out about them.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon smut #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #game of thrones fanfiction

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

everything at 18, but nothing at 22

alternatively: times she finished in the points while he dnfs

in which the drastic difference in their performance in their career seems to finally be catching up to them

(series masterlist)

-> australia, 2023

she simply cannot wipe the permanent smile on her face. she runs into her garage, straight from weigh-in, immediately greeted by blythe and ciara who are quick to take her in for a hug.

"oh, i made the points!" she laughs, jumping in a circle with her sisters. "can you believe it? i made history just by finishing in the top 10 today!"

"i told you you'll be amazing!" ciara puts her hands on her older sister's cheeks, before quickly pulling her in for another tight hug. "you did so well on the track amidst all the chaos!"

"history in the making with you just being here!" blythe shrieks, grabbing her shoulder. "you were amazing on the track. half the grid retired - did seb tell you?"

"he did," she laughs, slowly settling down as she stands on her feet. "speaking of that, i've got to speak to logan."

"no need to look around, i've got him here with me," oscar's accent fills her garage. "good job finishing above me, mate."

another shrill shriek escapes her mouth as she hops over to the two boys still in their race suits. she is received by oscar first, whispering neverending praises into her ear as they sway in their spot. she rubs circles on his back as they exchange compliments, both proud at their feat of achieving points in arguably one of the more chaotic races they've found themselves in.

as she pulls away, she meets a forced smile and sad green eyes as she is pulled into a hug by logan. "i'm so proud of you today. i stayed and watched the race just for you."

"baby, i'm sorry for the dnf," she whispers, her smile faltering slightly as she wraps her arms around his neck. she's lifted off the ground slightly, the height difference making their public hug slightly awkward. "this is only the third race - i swear it won't stay like this all season."

"no, don't worry about me," logan grins, pulling away from her. with a tender hand on her cheek, he quickly pulls it away when a flash goes off at the corner of his eye. instead, he settles for a hand on her shoulder and shakes her slightly. "today is all about you, ms. record breaker."

"for what it's worth, the fia is under fire for the chaos of today's race," she frowns, rubbing his sleeves up and down to offer a sense of familiarity.

their dream of getting into f1 together has finally come true. it's just a shame that they've got to keep their romantic gestures on the down low, or kept under wraps in fear of the backlash she might get.

"stop trying to justify my race," logan smiles, squeezing a cheek. he takes a step back and huffs, tilting his head as he looks at her. "look at you - i could have sworn you were just that lonely girl oscar decided to befriend at karting. now you're in f1 making history."

her smile carves into something softer, and looks up at him with a glimmer in his eyes that he couldn't ever get tired of. "i wouldn't be here without either of you."

logan squeezes her arm. "sneak into my hotel room later? let's watch a movie."

"oh, max invited me for drinks at some bar tonight. celebrate my first points or something like that," she frowns. "come with us, please? oscar will be there."

"i'll be okay," he smiles. "then sneak in after the drinks. you're funny when you're drunk, anyway."

"i'll sneak some cocktails in your room so we can watch a disney movie together and cuddle," she giggles. at the call of her name by sebastian, mentioning something about an interview she has to go do now. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later." logan bends down, closing an eye when he feels her lips pressed against his cheek. "love you."

she turns around, already being pulled away by an impatient sebastian. she twists her body back to look at him. she mouths, "love you."

-> hungary, 2023

she presses her lips together, rocking back and forth on her feet as she awaits the door to open. when it does, it reveals a clearly dishevelled logan with a towel hung around his shoulders.

he's already in his sweatpants, while she stood out in the hallway in a romper, ready to head out for the evening. she scans her boyfriend head to toe and slumps her shoulders. "baby, you're not going out with us tonight?"

he pokes his head past the door, looking left and right before he lets her walk into his hotel room. she sighs softly, following him further into the room.

he drops himself onto the bed and shakes his head. "i don't deserve to be out and about celebrating after the race today. you go ahead and enjoy yourself, babe."

"my love," she hums, climbing onto the bed with a hand finding his neck to massage the muscle. "just because the race didn't go your way today doesn't mean you should lock yourself up here and be by yourself."

he leans into her touch, turning to lie on his side. he slings an arm around her waist while she comfortably sits on his bed. "i just don't think i should be outside. i'm an embarrassment." he nuzzles his face into the side of her thigh. "good call to keep the relationship behind closed doors - you'll be ridiculed for being with me."

"what?" she says softly, never really getting used to logan's harsh words against himself. she hangs her head low, trying to meet his eyes. "please, don't say that. i'm very proud of you. dnf or not."

"you and oscar have gotten your first points this year. i still have not," he sighs, turning to lie on his back again. "trust me, you don't want people to know you're dating me."

"i do want people to know i'm dating you," she coos, running her fingertip down the side of his face. she moves down and props herself up on her elbow to look over him. "it's just complicated right now - you know that."

"but you get what i'm saying, right?"

"i do," she lays on her stomach, pressing a kiss on his bare shoulder. "okay, let me tell max i'm not feeling great to head out tonight for drinks. do you want to go and eat somewhere just the two of us?"

"what? (y/n), please. you don't have to do any of this. i'm fine being by myself tonight."

"i want to be with you tonight," she grins. "let's go shopping? it's our first time in hungary."

-> zandvoort, 2023

"mate, have you seen logan?" she asks, approaching oscar with a frown. with a pepsi can in hand, she sips on the straw as her bright eyes scan the paddocks for her missing boyfriend. "usually, he'd be right by my garage after a race, but i've yet to find him."

"i can't say i've seen him since before the race," oscar frowns, realising that it's been a while since he's seen logan. he also scans the crowd, hoping that it's just her height that's hindering her chances of finding logan. to no avail, he doesn't find logan either. "is everything okay?"

she shrugs. "i don't know. he retired from the race again, did you hear?"

"i heard. do you know why?"

"no," she shrugs. "seb's got no idea either. can you let me know if you find him, please? i've got an interview i need to go and do."

-> singapore, 2023

"seriously?" she cries, tears rushing into her eyes. she takes the bouquet of loud colours and holds it against her chest. "this is the sweetest thing ever!"

"you like them?" logan grins down at the flowers that clash against the dark motif of her race suit tailor-made for tonight. "i saw them in the mall the other day when oscar and i were out. i was banking on the fact that you'd make it into the points today.

"even luckier that you made podium."

"this is the cutest thing ever," she smiles, sniffling as she drops her head to smell the flowers. "thank you so much, logan."

"you deserve it."

"but i'm sorry for where you finished today," she frowns, dropping an arm and moving to his side. she puts an arm around his waist and squeezes him slightly. "was the car not good today?"

"i think it's the street circuits not being very kind to me," logan sighs, shaking his head. "but, please, enjoy your podium celebrations. i'll join you for drinks tonight?"

"oh, really? you're joining tonight?"

"of course! my girlfriend just made history again," logan says softly into her ear. he squeezes her shoulder. "i have to be there to celebrate with her, right?"

-> qatar, 2023

"fuck!"

"logan, please. just sit down - you're really dehydrated."

"no, god. i'm such a fuck up!"

"hey, don't say that!"

"i retired again because i couldn't take the fucking heat!" he tugs at the roots of his hair, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

meanwhile, his girlfriend sits in the corner on a plastic chair with her lips pressed together as he paces around the room against the medical advice of every personnel who's attended to him.

still in her fireproofs, the younger girl nurses her helmet in her lap as she tries to calm logan down. "it's okay, baby. you weren't feeling well. you couldn't have done anything else."

"i could have just sucked it up and raced like everybody else!" logan frowns. "even you finished the race despite your period! what's that say about me?"

she scoffs, eyebrows furrowed as his statement manages to hit her the wrong way. "what are you trying to say? that between you and me, you deserved to finish more because i was hindered by the fact that i've got my period?"

regret strikes logan immediately, and she can see it in the way his look softens and his shoulders slump. "no, that's not what i meant. i mean, like-"

"it sounds like the way it sounds," she says softly, hurt lacing her every word. she shakes her head as she gets up to her feet, helmet hanging off her fingers by the strap. "i'll call you tomorrow, logan."

"(y/n), please wait. i'm sorry."

"i just need to be alone," she frowns, turning her back on him as she heads for the door. "feel better and stay put until the nurse comes back with an iv for you. but i've got to go - i just can't believe you'd say that to me."

-> mexico, 2023

"god, i'm no better at 22 than i was at 18." logan holds his face in his hands, elbows propped up on his knees as he finds comfort in the beanbag in her driver's room after their media commitments. "i don't understand."

it's another race where he's forcibly retired and she's managed to climb her way into the points. despite starting in the back of the grid that afternoon, she managed to challenge lando climbing up the positions on the track.

while she lost out to the more experienced driver, starting 16th and eventually climbing to 8th is no easy task. with sebastian in her ear, it was a slightly easier task that had a lot of people confused and shocked at where she suddenly finished the race.

realistically, it helped that the car was just feeling much better with the upgrades that the team brought in for her this weekend.

but logan unexpectedly had to retire towards the end of the race. which, was disheartening after the point that he got just last week in austin.

"am i just not made to be in f1? i don't get it," he says softly. "something's not right."

all she can do is sigh. nothing about their predicament now is easy: she can't fully relate to the low he's feeling because- well, she's doing fine in her rookie season compared to him.

she knows that and so does he. they try not to talk about it, but it's something that looms over their head whenever they're on social media or are attending interviews together. it doesn't make it any easier that fans are easily gawking at her presence when they chance upon them together in public.

while logan loves being her boyfriend, the past couple of years being the best times he's ever experienced, it's easier said than done to be proud of your girlfriend's achievements when you're always in the trenches week after week.

"i don't even know if i'll still have a seat next year," he sighs, throwing his head back to rest on the wall behind him. "god. i don't know what to do."

"i don't even know what to say," she whispers, crawling over to where he is. she places a hand on his knee and rests her chin on her hand. "i'm sorry you're feeling like this, lo."

"i know you don't get it."

"i know i don't. but i'm your girlfriend."

"you being by my side means more than you think it does." he breathes out with a sigh passing his lips, a hand resting on her shoulder as they sit in silence. "you can boast about your achievements to me, you know?"

"i know." she turns her head to look up at him. logan forces another smile, her worried stare igniting something in him to make sure that she knows he's okay. "but i'm with you even in your darkest hours."

"i'm extremely proud of how far you've come this season."

"i'm proud of how eloquently you're trying to hold yourself around me," she frowns, tracing circles on the material of his jeans. "but you don't have to pretend around me. we celebrate my achievements when you're feeling better."

"we can do both." logan sits up, a hand cupping her cheek to lift it up to meet his gaze. "your achievements shouldn't be tucked away in some box just because i had a bad weekend. i'm happy enough seeing you make history."

"logan..."

"let's head out to dinner with oscar tonight. it's a celebration - you guys have done so well."

"we can just stay in if you want."

"no more of that!" he cheers, his lips meeting the tip of her nose. "we're celebrating tonight. let's dress up, let's go out and take pictures, and then we can post about them on instagram while people speculate about how too close we seem to be. i don't care.

"you've done so much for the sport, you should be celebrated, babe. if you don't want to, i will celebrate you."

she sighs, rolling her eyes. "you're an idiot."

"but an idiot you love, yes?"

"an idiot i love, correct."

#disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 fanfic #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial

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