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kissitbttr · 5 months

Note

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara blurbs

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plum-writes · 5 months

Text

❦🝮 ♡︎Submissive Miguel Ohara♡︎🝮❦

ఌ first of all, no matter how prideful or closed off this man may be, he wants to be taken care of

ఌ he wants to be held, pampered, and be able to let go of all the problems weighing on his shoulders

ఌ he just wants the bliss that comes with no thoughts in his head

ఌ he does so much, for you, for New York, for the Spidey Society, for all the universes he works so hard to protect, that it comes as no surprise that it takes a toll on him

ఌ basically he needs to be fucked so good that he can’t think anymore, just feel

ఌ feel you

ఌ and he’s a little scared at first at how badly he wants that

ఌ to the point where he’s having thoughts and fantasies that are so deprived and needy he has to make sure they don’t become more than that

ఌ how could he explain that he wants to be used and abused in any way possible by you so badly, he aches almost every night, fucking his cock into his hand imagining it’s you???

ఌ he couldn’t- could never- so he keeps it a secret. until he cant

ఌ it all started with a back massage

ఌ he came home from work pretty late, so tired that his mind was muddled mess and his body was just going through the motions of his usual routine

ఌ it was obvious with his sluggish movements, and low, delayed grunt when you softly greeted him with his usual kiss home

ఌ you knew he was too drained to do much right now, and that was where you took the initiative to take care of him

ఌ something that made it even harder for him to keep the little secret to himself

ఌ but you didn’t know that, and he was too tired to refute your help like so many times before

ఌ so when he finished eating dinner and you gently led him to the bedroom, giving him another kiss while gently telling him to hop in the shower he didn’t brush you off

ఌ he didn’t tell you not to worry about him like he usually would

ఌ he was all too happy to obey you

ఌ and when he finished he certainly didn’t complain when you led him to lay on his stomach on the bed, telling him that he was going to get a massage for being so good, and hardworking that day

ఌ for working so hard to help provide for your beautiful home, for New York, for the universe

“Oh, Miguel, you’re so good to everyone. Doing so much for everyone, you deserve a reward for doing so good- you deserve everything, amor.”

ఌ the way his belly lit up had him waking up like a bucket of ice cold water was thrown onto him

ఌ he knew what this would lead too, how him being too tired to control himself, would reveal the part of himself that yearned for you

ఌ he had no idea how you would react to that and he didn’t want to risk any negative reactions he might get from it

ఌ but your hands and words just felt so good

ఌ you had him talk about his day, his words interrupted with muffled grunts, and the deep breaths that left his mouth when you would rub a tender spot on his back, making him loosening up

ఌ he decides at that moment that this is all worth anything he might let slip that night if he could just revel in your tender hands for a few more moments

ఌ you and your magical touch

ఌ he groans softly at the way you rub his back with caring hands, your weight a comfort from where you’re sitting atop of his thighs

ఌ the kisses you plant at the top of his shoulder blades leaving his skin tingling and buzzing, while your hands gently knead his lower back, your little knuckles digging into his tight spots

ఌ it makes him want more

“Aye, bebita. Treating me so good.”

ఌ you smile at his words, leaning down and angling your head to kiss his bushy brow, laughing lightly when his hand reaches back and tugs at the shirt you’re wearing

ఌ you readily take it off for Miguel, just clad in your panties now

ఌ He moans even more at the feel of your peaked nipples brushing against his flushed skin when you lean down, your kisses traveling up to his neck and ears, getting any peek of his face that flits through where he’s burying his head in his forearms

ఌ he chuckles lowly, and hums appreciatively when you squish your body fully on top of him to wrap your arms around his larger frame in a hug

ఌ he can feel your chest squished to his back, a wonderful feeling, your lips setting a blazed trail all along his body

ఌ his muscles relaxed and taken care of

ఌ he feels absolutely consumed by you and he loves it

ఌ and it just seemed to get him in that headspace

ఌ he starts breathing heavy when he feels you grip him tight, his sweats tightening at his groin area when you suck a spot on his shoulder, your teeth slightly nibbling and grazing his skin

ఌ your hands soon start drifting all over his half naked body, weight becoming heavier on him when you press yourself further to his back

ఌ he feels your panty clad pussy press against the side of his thigh, and he huffs heavily at the slight wetness that slides your panties messily

“Take it off mami, want to feel you, please.”

ఌ his voice is a gravelly, raspy, and delicious whimper

ఌ it’s not like anything you’ve ever heard come out of his mouth from the time you guys have been together

ఌ youve heard deep grunts, and throaty groans, slightly high pitched huffs, and even some quiet whines hidden deep in his voice when you guys have sex

ఌ but a whimper as sweet and needy as this one? This is the first your ears are blessed with the sound

ఌ you pause minutely, and even though it’s only for half a second, he notices right away

ఌ you feel him go stiff once again, and you just know his eyes are wide and brows furrowed, silently panicking to himself

ఌ he’s silently beating itself up at letting go of himself, of letting you see a side of him that would surely make you want to leave. Who wants to be with a man who acts like this from a few fucking sentimental words and little touches?? His mind screams at himself

ఌ he’s oblivious to the smile that stretches your lips, your hand continuing its journey to slip under the waistband of his sweats to grip is pretty, hard cock

ఌ you pick up right where you guys left off as if nothing is amiss, but your voice is notably more firm and throaty; it’s obvious how fucking excited you are about the new dynamic presented between you two

“What is it, Miguel? You wanna feel me that bad?”

ఌ you grind down on him, already soaking through your panties and you know he can feel the wetness on his skin already

ఌ he let out a choked off whine his arms tensing, and he stuffs his head further into them

ఌ he’s trying to be quiet. You don’t want him to

ఌ so you grind harder, and one hand leaves his shoulder to his hair and you slide your fingers through the soft tufts of hair. you grip gently and firmly tug his head up to look at you

ఌ his eyes are lidded, glassy and preening at you, cheeks red and lips parted just slightly

ఌ god you want to devour him

“Let me take care of you.”

ఌ that is the first time Miguel lets himself be fully vulnerable with you

ఌ you ride him deep in to the sheets that night, pulling more moans and whines from him that do nothing more than make you drip desperately for him

ఌ you feel drunk on him, almost feral at the way he’s so easily reduced to a whining, needy mess under you

ఌ you don’t think either of you have even came that hard together

ఌ this sparks an onslaught of many nights like this to come

ఌ you’ll know when Miguel gets in one of these moods, whether he vocalizes it or not

ఌ he’ll be surprised at how well you read him, momentarily quiet when you come up behind him and start kissing his back, hands drifting to the band of his pants with a whisper of

“Let me take care of you, bebito.”

ఌ oh man does he fold whenever he hears those words

ఌ he’ll gladly let you take control, content to just lay down and let your lips travel wherever they want to go

ఌ this often leads to times where he gets a little demanding

ఌ he begs and whimpers, whines and complains, will grasp and grab you, becoming so fucking needy that he can’t help himself

ఌ so he becomes a bit of a brat

ఌ he’ll be all whining and pouting, looking at you with such a desperate glare that shows how determined he is to get what he needs anyway he can

ఌ the first time he made you snap, he cried

ఌ and crying during sex was a euphoria he didn’t know he ever needed

ఌ being suffocated by your thighs for hours because he was too impatient to wait for you when you came home, bugging you during work

ఌ not letting him touch himself as punishment when you walked through the door, angry and pent up from the many voice mails and texts he left you- both on your home and work phone

ఌ degrading him with words that made his chest flush, and cheeks red like a tomato

“So fucking needy, Miguel. I’ve spoiled you too much haven’t I? You’ve become such a needy little brat, demanding everything from me, so. fucking. greedy- oh- right there!”

ఌ him loving the dirty words spewing out of your mouth, and loving your harsh touches even more

ఌ you guys aren’t strangers to each of you having scratches and bruises from sex, but him feeling absolutely unable to function after you’ve fucked his brains out??

ఌ he loves it so much it makes him cry

ఌ he loves the bite marks, hickeys, scratches, bruises, hand prints, and any little thing you leave on him, such actions never failing to make him moan

ఌ you guys have definitely done pegging

ఌ and he fucking loved it

ఌ the prep before consisting of you eating his ass like it was your last meal and then fingering it like it was your pussy was something he didn’t think he could ever enjoy so much

ఌ and then when you’re fucking him, the rubber, wet dildo hitting his prostate with every slap of your hips, he didn’t even know he could ever feel that good

ఌ he also loved the intimacy of it all

ఌ you interlocking your guys fingers when you devoured his ass made his breath hitch

ఌ you licking and sucking his balls while fingering him and looking up at him with such love where he was laying on his back on the comfortable bed made his cock squirt

ఌ you stroking his back and thighs when you probed the tip of the rubber dildo into him made his heart and stomach flutter

ఌ he loves you and just this fact makes sex with you so much better

ఌ he’ll never get over the way you make his breath hitch with just a look instead of a touch

ఌ or how you’ll be so caring and loving even when you’re riding him so roughly he’s sure he won’t be able to feel his dick tomorrow morning

“A-aye, fuck… oh carino, asi~”

ఌ his moans turn so high pitched, it’s like the most beautiful melody written just for you

ఌ he gets a little embarrassed sometimes when you see him like this- just the fact that you have the power to reduce him like this makes him a bit flustered and overwhelmed

ఌ but then you’ll assure him that you love it when he’s like this, kissing and hugging him around his broad shoulders when he refuses to meet your eyes after he’s recovered from properly being fucked out

ఌ and then he’ll realize he loves it too

#miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel smut #sub miguel o'hara

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eilidh-eternal · 3 months

Text

You make a promise

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | CW mentions of SA, stalking, general PTSD warning for reader and Johnny |

It happened again.

You knew it would. Know that part of being a woman in this world means living in near constant hyper-vigilance; with an acute awareness of your surroundings.

Should have known better. Should have been more aware. Should have kicked and screamed. Should have fought back.

It’s disappointment that curls around your mind like a serpent and sinks its fangs in deep, floods you with venomous, paralyzing thoughts.

Paralyzed. That’s a good word for it. Pinned against that bookshelf and presently burrowed beneath the blankets in the dark, body curled in on itself with trembling hands tucked tight to your chest. Small. Meek. Trapped in a body that betrays everything you taught it to do. Disappointed that the months of training you endured in the aftermath proved useless when tested outside of a controlled environment and theoretical scenarios.

It happened again–and you let it.

“Bubby?” Isobel is strapped in her car seat, kicking impatient little feet while Johnny works to unfasten the belt across her lap.

“Yes leannan?”

“Why’re the polis here?”

His hands go still, hovering above the buckle, and he turns his head over his shoulder just enough to glimpse the two lids standing on your front stoop. The air in his lungs rushes out of him, chin falling to his breastbone as the panic winding tight in his chest slowly unfurls.

This is home. Isobel is safe. Everyone is safe. This isn’t that day, he reminds himself, but seeing them on your doorstep strikes flint against steeled nerves. The carefully compartmentalized part of his brain that he reserves for work wrestles itself free from its confines and floods his body with adrenaline. Makes the hair on his nape stand on end and the muscles in his jaw tighten until it aches from the tension.

With Isobel extracted from the car, perched on his hip and her book bag slung over the opposite shoulder, he turns to nudge the car door closed, just in time to see your door crack open. Watches the two men present their badges and a folded bundle of paperwork. Gnashes his teeth when he sees, even from the street, wide and fearful eyes that scan everything behind them. Eyes that note his presence and dart away to catalog the next detail. Trodden snow and parked cars. The woman across the street, walking her dog. Surveying your front yard with the same scrutiny he does an engagement zone.

Isobel squirming in his arms tears his focus away from you, forces him to register the burning sensation at the tip of his nose, the tops of his ears, cold winter air surely biting into her skin just as mercilessly as it does his own.

“I dunno. Let’s get ye inside, aye? Dinnae want to find any missing fingers or toes tonight.”

To anyone else it would look like he’s taking his time with the ice, treading carefully with the little girl in his arms so as not to send them both crashing down into the snow. Anyone else would see lids next door and mind their own damn business.

Johnny’s never been particularly good at that.

Their presence alone is enough to raise his hackles, to pull the pin from his nerves and toy with letting the hammer fall. Just enough to see if they’re as trained up as the SNP says they are. But all that’s likely to do is scare you more, and he can’t have that. He just found you, just started to get to know you. He’ll be damned if he lets another rash decision chase a pretty thing like you away.

The thought of it twists and knots in his stomach, plucks at the out-of-tune strings wound through his heart in a weeping facsimile of something he doesn’t dare put a name to. Can’t name because it gives it too much power. Makes it too real.

It’s slow going, pretending to fumble with the keys in the cold. Feigning indifference as he grapples with “—in custody, for now—” and “—press charges?”

The snow and ice outside is a brilliant, blinding white. Inside, all Johnny can see is red.

Charges? What on earth happened that she needs to press charges for?

“Bubby, too tight,” Isobel grouses, and he loosens his arm around her with a sigh, lowering her to the ground to help with her jacket and boots.

“‘M sorry, Bell. Didnae mean to squeeze ye so tight.” Curls bounce around her face as she teeters on one foot, hands on his shoulders to keep her balance.

“It’s okay.” She shifts to her other foot, pulling free of the fleece-lined boots. “Ye’re makin’ a twisty face again,” she observes, and her brows mirror the pinch of his own.

Too damn observant.

“Ah know,” he admits, and his chest heaves with another sigh, reaching up to smooth the crinkles in her forehead with his thumb. “Dinna worry about me and muh twisty face. How ‘bout some hot cocoa? We’ll warm up and then see about supper, hm?” Her face splits into a toothy grin and he softens at the sight. Lets her latch onto his hand and drag him into the kitchen.

“May we come in?”

No.

“Of course.” You take a step back, pulling the door open just wide enough to let the two officers through. Melting snow pools on polished hardwood under their boots, and you quickly herd them towards the carpeted sitting room before the water can warp your floors. You sit opposite of where they do on your sofa, big fluffy robe pulled tight over flannel pants and a pullover.

“He’ll be released on Thursday morning, unless ye’d like to go ahead with the charges for—”

“—No.” Your fingers curl into your palms. “Just the restraining order. I—” Can’t see his face again. Don’t want to be in the same room with him again. “—just the restraining order. Please.”

The shorter of the two nods and produces a pen from his coat, scribbling something in the margins of the papers he holds before sliding them across the coffee table towards you.

“Tha’s the station an’ phone number,” he says, tapping on the notes he made. “We’ll ring ye when he’s released. An’ we’ll ‘ave the protective order in place by tomorrow. He shouldnae be botherin’ ye anymore.”

All you can manage is a nod and a whispered, “Thank you.” They’re kind enough. Most people are.

Until they’re not.

——

It’s dark outside when you hear a knock at your front door, and your hand immediately reaches for your phone, breath forced out of your lungs by the panic squeezing them inside your chest.

There’s a muffled voice. A giggle, followed by shushing and shuffling feet. “Dinnae want to spoil the surprise,” you hear in a familiar lilt.

Johnny?

You draw a relieved breath and wince when your nails press into the marks on your palms, angry crescent moons, and pull yourself up off the couch to peer through the edge of the curtains.

Johnny and Isobel stand, the former holding the latter, on your stoop, small pan of… something, in Isobels gloveless hands.

Bewildered as you are, you shed the blanket from your shoulders, smoothing a hand over your rumpled jumper, and hurry to the door, fretful over Isobels fingers in the frigid air.

The door cracks open, and with it, so do their smiles.

“Hi, bonnie—”

“—Surprise!” they say at the same time.

You stand dumbfounded in your doorway, hand braced on the wooden frame, and Isobel holds out what might be something of a cake beneath a mountain of whipped cream towards you.

“It’s a trifle,” she proudly announces. You turn a questioning eye to Johnny.

“Didnae have the fixin’s for a proper cake,” he supplies. “Figured it would be a sort of… olive branch.”

Olive branch? Why would he need—?

Clipped memories from several days ago replay in your head. Coming home. Sitting in the car. Johnny calling after you. Practically running away and slamming the door on him. Shutting him out.

And here he stands, thinking he’s done something worth apologizing over.

“You don’t need- you didn’t… oh, come in out of the cold, will you? No sense in freezing out there.” You push the door open wider, beckoning them in.

“Thought ye’d never ask,” he teases with a wink and shuffles inside, following you to the kitchen with Isobel in tow behind him.

“Here, let’s put that on the table.” Isobel gladly relinquishes the pan and you’re relieved when you feel its warmth seeping into your fingers, a little less worried about both of their lack of proper winter attire. “I’ve never served trifle… would bowls be best?”

“Aye, ye’ll probably need spoons too. More of a pudding than a cake,” he says as he settles himself in a chair, Isobel quick to clamber up onto his lap.

You’re surprised by your own lack of nerves. The dishes don’t clatter together when you pull them from the cabinet as they have in recent days, and you don’t feel so uneasy with your back to them. Don’t feel the need to look over your shoulder when Isobel thrums her little fingers on the wooden table, or the deep rumble of Johnny’s voice, speaking to her in hushed tones.

You’re safe here. Safe with them.

Johnny’s right about the dessert too. It’s warm, freshly made, and it’s made for a bit of a runny affair, melted whipped cream seeping into custard and some sort of cake on the bottom.

“It’s good. Thank you for, um… Thank you for sharing.” You spoon another bite into your mouth before you can shove your foot in it. Isobel seems to be in another plane of existence entirely, too absorbed with the confection smeared at the corners of her mouth. The same can’t be said about Johnny. He’s focused wholly on you, dessert in front of him a secondary matter. Tertiary, even, with Isobel perched on his knee and his arm looped around her midsection.

The warmth in his eyes has shifted, burns brighter, in a seeking sort of way. Searching for tinder to catch on. More air to billow and blaze. “Can I ask ye somethin’?”

You settle your silverware in your bowl and fold your hands in your lap, pulling the inside of your cheek between your teeth when your nails slice into your palms again. “Sure.”

The silence isn’t uncomfortable so much as it is heavy, laden with the weight of his unspoken question as he continues his assessment of you. For a moment, you wonder if maybe it’s you who owes him an apology.

“Havnae seen ye for a few days. Yer car’s nae moved and yer curtain’s been closed. And last week, when ye–” He pauses abruptly, mulling over his next words carefully. “Ye looked like a green recruit, fresh off the field.”

Terrified.

Shell shocked.

“That have anythin’ to do with the fellows who dropped by today?”

Your eyes flick between his, the bowl on the table in front of you, and Isobel–still lost in her own little microcosm. Untainted by the dark things lurking just beyond her understanding. You knew he’d seen them. Knew he might ask about them at some point. What you hadn’t expected was a trojan horse in the form of a trifle. Thought you would have more time to think of something to explain the situation away.

This isn’t something he should be burdened with. Not over you. Not when he has Isobel to look out for.

When you finally meet his eyes again they’re no less dim. Still searching for words buried beneath ash on your tongue.

“I… Yes. It did.” You swallow, shove down the knot working it’s way up from your chest. “I was followed, out at the shops,” you lie. “The man, he wouldn’t leave me alone, so… the shopkeeper called for the polis. He left me alone after that, but they still took a statement.” You glance towards Isobel again. To give yourself reprieve from the intensity of his gaze and to ensure she’s not listening too closely to the conversation being had. “Guess it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. They came by today to… to let me know he’s in custody. Wanted to know if I wanted to press charges.”

He’s quiet, unearthly still on the wooden chair, staring hard at the expression you’re doing your best to keep calm.

“This happen before?” he questions, hand curling into a fist on the table.

“No,” you lie–again.

He nods, a near imperceptible tilt of his chin. “Are ye filing?”

You nod in return. No need to go into the specifics.

His shoulders relax a fraction when he looses a long breath. “No wonder ye wouldnae come near me that day,” he muses aloud. “‘M sure my givin’ ye a fright in yer car didnae help much, either.”

“It’s not your fault,” you interject.

“Maybe so, but…” His eyes drift with his words, searching the patterns of the wood grain for something. “Can I ask ye another question?” When he looks up at you again, you nod. “Promise ye’ll tell me, if anythin’ like that happens again? Dinna like the thought of ye dealin’ with it on yer own, lass.”

“Tell ye what?” Isobel queries, bowl of trifle empty in front of her, but his gaze remains firmly on you, and you don’t think he’s willing to take no for an answer.

“Okay. I promise.”

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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ellatoone7 · 1 month

Text

❄︎ Retirement ready ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

Alexia is more than ready to spend all her time with her girls

You were incredibly surprised at how well Alexia had been taking her retirement. Of all the ways you imagined this moment it was always more dramatic, but your wife seemed to be at peace as she walked out of the tunnel for the last time.

The crowd absolutely erupted as she lined up as Captain for the last time. Isabella was standing on her chair with her Putellas jersey proudly displayed on her back. Emilia watched with wide eyes as the place chanted her Mami’s name. “Mami sad?” Emilia asked with tears in her eyes, “No sweetheart, mamí is happy.” The younger blonde doesn’t seem so sure, “You know what this means? Mami is going to have so much more time to play with you and bring you to school.” Emilia lit up at the thought of more mamí time.

Alba was sitting next to you, not having too much care for football but she loved her sister dearly, so she put up with it. “You think she’s sad Alb’s? Do you think this is right thing for her to do? I don’t want her to resent anything.” Alba scoffed amusedly as she gently patted you swollen stomach, “Have you seen the way she acts when she’s with her daughters? I mean there could be a Champions league final that she’s supposed to play but if one of those little girls asked her to stay at home, she wouldn’t be able to even spell football.”

You looked back at the pitch as Alexia’s eyes roamed the stadium in search of something. You smiled curiously until you saw her eyes absolutely light up when she catches sight of her family. Isabella nearly falls of her chair as she blows Alexia a kiss for it to be reciprocated immediately. Emilia reached out her arms for her and you see the longing in your wife’s eyes as she subtly reached out too.

Then her eyes fell onto you as she stared up at you with so much adoration. With a soft ‘Te amo’ and a kiss to her ring she disappeared down the tunnel for halftime. Alba stared at you with a cocky smile as you gently shouldered with a giggle.

“Abuela! Look at my jersey!” Emilia shouted over the noise as she showed Eli her brand-new custom-made jersey that she had showed just about everyone with eyes. Eli cooed as she kissed both of her cheeks and offered to take both girls to get ice cream.

Alexia was on cloud nine as she entered the dressing room. She was beyond excited to hang up her boots and throw herself into her family. “Ay amiga, No parezcas muy feliz.” Mapí threw her arm around her shoulder with a giggle as she pressed a kiss to her best friend’s cheek. Ingrid had retired a few weeks ago as they too had a little boy and girl. Mapí was going to stay for another month before she joins them. Irene had retired the season before and was sitting by her family.

“No puedo evitarlo. Mi Familia…” Mapí just hugged her tighter as she nodded softly. “No puedo creer que nos abandones.” A voice from behind the two friends had Alexia grinning as she slightly shoved her ‘adopted’ daughters, “Como si vosotros dos no vinierais al menos tres veces a la semana.” Pina giggled while agreeing while Jana hugged her Captain.

“Vamos a ganar este partido para la reina!” A victorious chant was let out as the girls made their way down the tunnel. “Vamos amiga!” Mapí grinned as she took her hand and led her down to the field. The second half flashed by with Alexia scoring her last ever goal and immediately dedicating it to her daughters and her wife.

“Mama! We met Auntie Leah and Less. They came to see Mami’s game!” Emilia squealed as she waved at her English ‘aunts’. Emilia had gotten lost when she was just two years old when Alexia had turned her back for two seconds. It was at the Emirates, and it just so happened that Alexia wanted to bring her family on a holiday straight after. Luckily Leah had been roaming around to check the field one more time before tomorrow when she spotted the little girl.

She recognised her straight away from Kiera and Lucy’s constant rambling at how cute their Captains’ daughters were. Leah told the two-year-old that she knew her mamí and could bring her to her which Emilia immediately agreed too. Alexia was losing her absolute mind as she had the whole team frantically searching for Emilia. Leah had finally found the Spanish Captain and they were fast friends after that.

Alexia and Leah’s friendship was teasingly competitive yet very entertaining to everybody, but Alexia was eternally grateful to Leah for that day and Emilia had imprinted on her. You gave Leah a wave and she sent you a playful wink before focusing on the game at hand.

The final whistle blew, and you were waiting for your wife to break down but the smile that nearly split her face was extremely welcome too. Alexia immediately ran to the barriers as you slowly made your way down, Alba had taken Emilia and Isabella ahead of you, so you didn’t trip and fall with their excitement. “Mi bébé’s!” Emilia reached her arm down but pouted and whines as she couldn’t reach her mamí.

Alexia and Alba shared amused looks as the girl tried to reach again. Alba with the help of Irene had lifted Isabella over the barrier and into Alexia’s awaiting arms. “Hola Is! Did you enjoy the game!” Isabella hugged her tightly, “Sí, Mami your goal was incredible.” Alexia kissed her cheek before setting her down to catch her other daughter. Jana and Pina had already kidnapped Isabella as they chased her around.

After Emilia was safely in Alexia’s arms did, she smile again. She gave her mamí a kiss as she snuggled into her neck, “Mama said you will have mucho time to play now!” Alexia giggled as she threw the blonde into the air, “You will be sick of me mi princesa!” Emilia looked horrified at the thought of being sick of her Mami and just decided to give her another kiss too.

“Mateo?” Emilia asked with wide eyes as she stared up at Irene wanting to know where her best friend had gone. Alexia reassured Irene that it was fine as she reached up to bring the little boy down with a kiss to the cheek. Emilia squealed as they were reunited, and Alexia threw Irene a knowing glance as they watched them gallivant around with their hands joined.

“Right, who’s lifting me down?” You joked as you made your appearance. The girls’ eyes widened as you shouldered Irene teasingly, “Hola amor.” Alexia stared up at you, hoping to convey how much she loved you with her eyes. “How do I get down again?” Alexia smiled at your urgency to see her as she nodded at Alba who helped you down to the tunnel.

Irene had managed to climb down as she wanted to keep an eye on the partners in crime. She hugged Alexia tightly as they shared a moment while watching their kids. “¿No te recuerdan a otras dos personas?” Irene smiled slightly bumping her hip into her Captains. Alexia chuckled as the inside joke that was circling ever since Mateo confessed his love for his best friend and Emilia had immeditaley accepted. Alexia smiled as she thought of you, and she swivelled her head keeping her eye on Isabella and Emilia.

Alexia ran when she saw you, wanting nothing more than to finish her final lap with you by her side. The final piece of the puzzle as you had watched her very first match and had barely missed one since. She pulled you into her tightly as you kissed her neck softly, “I’m so proud of you.” Alexia teared up slightly as she kissed you lovingly wanting to sear this moment into her brain forever.

Her hands were pressed to your stomach as she kissed you once again. “How’s my other princesa huh?” Alexia asked as she bowed her head to press a kiss to your stomach. “Still convinced it’s a girl?” Alexia and Alba, both threw you a knowing look, “Putellas’s only know how to make girls cariño.” The proof was in the pudding as both of your daughters came rushing over to get a family picture. Mateo took Emilia’s coat as she kissed his cheek in thanks before joining the pictures. Irene had to hold her son up as she nearly collapses at the sign of affection.

Alexia picks her four-year-old up when she makes grabby hands and Isabella stands proudly in front of the three of you as you pose for a picture. Alexia’s arm is around your waist as her eyes stray to you not noticing the picture being taken as she takes in her little family. You get a few more with Alba and Eli and even one with Mateo at the insistence of the blonde.

Alexia does get emotional as she does her lap of the field but because of how happy and content she is with her little family. “Are you sure you are okay with this?” You ask when you see her get teary eyed, but she just kisses you soundly, “Amor, I want to spend every second with my girls. I want to do this, I wished I had sooner.” She pressed her lips to your temple, “I don’t want to miss any more moments, I want it all, vale.” You wipe away a tear as she chuckled softly, holding you tightly as she pulled you closer again.

You watch as her eyes light up as you follow her line of sight, Isabella is sending rockets at Cata while she out skills Mapí, even though they are going a bit easy on her. The smile on her freckled face is nearly a mirror image of her mother’s when she was her age and now it all made sense to why Alexia was so calm. You kiss her cheek affectionately as she places her large hand on your belly.

“Besides, my legacy will live on.”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #woso #Alexia's favourite girls

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forsworned · 3 months

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋfailed mission bluesˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ this fic was inspired by @ragingbookdragon bc holy shit they are absolutely talented and their writing style and the way they pick out little moments here and there in a chaptered fic kind of way but not quite? just a very casual yet perfect way to write idk if that makes any sense but anyways i just wanted to get out of my writers block and write this

꒰warning(s) ig suggested poly relationship???꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

Nobody had anticipated today's events. The mission was a failure. Rare, but it did happen every so often when communications went interrupted, information was falsified and one slip up from one person caused a domino effect. Still, no one was at fault.

"It was bad intel, mate." Kyle softly says to Johnny.

Johnny merely stares at his scotch that had been downed a few moments ago, the ice clattered and seeped at the bottom of the glass.

"I know." He lets out a sharp exhale from his nose.

Price glances over at Johnny before making eye contact with the bartender. "Any chance of a drink sometime this week?"

The bartender chuckled at the playful jab. "Aye, 'll be ready by tomorrow night."

The bartender came over to serve a bottle Stillman's to Price, but he tilted his head in Johnny's direction and the bartender picked up the signal. Johnny's eyes flickered up for a moment and the bartender gives him a kind smile. "On th'house."

The corners of the Scot curl up into a half smile. "Ahh, thanks mate." He murmured. His mind was flooded with distracting thoughts as he watched his glass being filled. He nodded at the bartender and then caught the gaze of Simon, not quite leering, more analyzing than anything but still scrutinizing if only a bit.

Johnny turned away and lifted the glass to his lips. The fiery liquid gave a pleasant burn in his chest. It was quiet save for the sound of Irene Kral crooning over the speakers and the soft pattering of rain against the glass. The bells at the bar entrance rang and the squelching of shoes against the hardwood floors made their ears perk up.

"Hey." She beamed at them, a little glint of light on the gloomy day. Her clothes are drenched as she removed the hood of her rain jacket. Lips glossed, skin dewy and her eyes shining under the dim light. The light frangrance of rosejam and vanilla permeated the air that she stood in.

"Lil late to the party, don't y'think, lass?" Kyle's smooth voice lightened the mood, as if her presence hadn't made them find oxygen once again.

She chuckled. "Yeah, sorry, was--"

"Feedin' that damn cat again, weren't ya?" Simon piped up as he sipped at his scotch and casted a quick glance her.

Her grin grew. "Oh don't be such a--"

He put his hand up to stop her. "'m not drunk enough for this conversation yet."

That earns a laugh from everyone. An impish quip from Simon was nothing that they were a stranger to, although, it happened more often than not when she was around. The mood lifted once more as Price grabbed a barstool and dragged it between him and Simon.

"Hava seat, duck." Price licked his lips as he sipped at his drink and he peered over at the bartender once more as he raised a finger at him.

She smiled at the bartender and waved her hand around and shook her head. "No drink for me tonight, Archie."

Archie raised his brows at her. "The missus doesn't want a drink, t'night?"

"Expectin' a wee one soon." Price larked with a grin as he patted her playfully over her womb.

She laughed and swatted his hand, peering up at Archie. "Not a chance. I'm not in the mood is all."

Archie nodded and went to tend to other patrons that entered the pub. There was a small moment of silence as she huffed a bit and set her bag on the bar. She unzipped her jacket and a pair of hands were on her shoulders.

"I'll take it." Johnny's voice was subdued as he peeled it off her form. She thanked him with a smile and he may have melted at the way she looked up at him with those eyes. He padded over to the other side of the room where the coat hanger was at.

"Taking it a bit hard?" she murmured to Price and Kyle and they gave nods and half smiles.

"Poor thing." She said as Archie brought over a ginger beer, popping open the cap and she laughed. "Thanks."

Another silence as Johnny joined them again. It was a numbing feeling. The feeling of something so grandiose slipping right through your fingers.

Her jaw ticked in annoyance. The sound of molars gritting hard against each other was loud as they glanced over at her. "We were right there."

Johnny hung his head.

"Not your fault, y'know." She fiddled with the cap that was left behind as she sipped at her bottle.

"It's not, Johnny." Simon agreed.

That struck a cord in him. His hand tightened around the glass and he felt a baseball sized lump gathering up in his throat. He decided on keeping his mouth clamped shut.

"Jus' glad you're alive, mate." Kyle clapped the Scot's shoulder.

"Otherwise we'd have to kill ya ourselves." Price chirped up. Another wave of laughter. A small smile adorning Simon's lips as he took another sip of his scotch. The solemn mood overcoming all of them once more as they sat there in silence. Indeed there was nothing they could've done, but the deadened feeling of a failed mission was unmatched.

#cod x reader #call of duty imagines #mw imagines #simon riley x reader #ghost x reade #soap x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost x reader #poly 141

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imbored1201 · 3 months

Text

Flu Season

Word Count: 1.4k

Arsenal x Teen Reader

Waking up to Alessia jumping on your bed was eventful, to say the least. In your half-asleep state, you ended up pushing her off, and she landed pretty hard on her back.

You were still half asleep as she groaned and cursed you out. She slowly got up to get an ice pack and complained to Leah. You were starting to wake up, but something didn't feel right to you.

You groaned as you held your stomach and sat up. You felt nauseous, and you did not like that feeling.

"Y/N! Let's go! We're going to be late." You heard Leah yell; you had to wake up earlier than usual because of Leah. She had to do a physical to determine if she was actually ready to go back onto the pitch. She had been up the past week overthinking it.

"Sorry Le," you muttered, giving her your bag so she could check through it and make sure you packed everything.

"You forgot your cleats," you groaned, making your way back to your room, trying to hold yourself back from jumping into bed again.

————

"You okay back there, Tiny?" You huffed at Leah's words, "I'm not tiny." "You are in our eyes." You kicked Alessia's seat at that.

"Stop,” Leah said sternly, giving you the mom look through the mirror. “But she started it,” you whined, “Alessia. You’re an adult.” Alessia simply grinned. She was glad she got under your skin already.

You continued to ignore her as you got out of the car and bolted to the locker room. You felt a weird feeling in your chest as you went inside and started changing, getting a bunch of hugs and head taps from the girls.

You thought it would just go away after a little bit, but you were really wrong about that one.

————

30 minutes into training, you wanted to go up to Leah and admit that you weren't feeling well. You wanted to cuddle with her on the couch and have a movie night.

But unfortunately for you, Leah was stuck doing her physical tests.

You thought about going to Steph, but she was already dealing with Kyra's nonsense. "You okay? You look sad," Beth commented. Tears were starting to build up in your eyes, so you looked at the grass so Beth wouldn't see.

"Yeah, just cold," you told her. You could feel her stare, like she was studying you. "Don't lie," she pointed out. You were going to respond back, but a body jumping on your back sent you to the ground.

You groaned, now feeling the need to throw up again. "Come on, kid, you know you have to watch your surroundings." You scoffed at hearing the Irish accent. Katie loved sneaking up to attack you; she said it was to improve your reflexes, but you knew it was just an excuse to bully you without getting in trouble for picking on a kid.

Katie frowned when you stayed on the ground, curled into a ball, tears starting to stream down your face now.

"Ay, what happened? Did I hurt you?" She asked, kneeling beside you and rubbing your back. "I don't feel good," you said, starting to cry. Beth frowned as she felt your forehead.

"She's sick." Katie jumped as you got back to your feet and rushed back inside the facility.

You didn't care who was in your way; you had to make it there. Poor Kyra and Vic were shoved away in the process of getting there, but you finally made it.

You don't know how long you were there on your knees vomiting your guts out; thankfully, your hair was already tied up for training.

You whined as someone tried pulling you up, tiredly smacking their arms away. "Breathe." You sobbed hearing Viv's voice. She was the person you needed right now.

Before you could say anything, you let out another gag. Viv quickly let you go so you could throw up again.

"It hurts," you whimpered, referring to your stomach. "I know, but come on, the bathroom floor is not a good place to relax," Viv said as she helped you up. You leaned into her for support as she led you back out to the locker room.

She set you next to Beth, who put an arm around your shoulder and gave you your water bottle while Viv got ready. "Your not feeling good, tiny?" Beth questioned you. You simply let out a painful groan as you grabbed onto her shirt.

"Come on, mini me, let's get you home." You gave them a confused look, looking around for Leah. "Where's Leah?" Viv and Beth looked at each other, hoping you wouldn't have a full-blown meltdown.

"She'll see you later; she just needs to do some stuff," Beth tried as she pulled you up and tucked you into her side.

————

The car ride was oddly peaceful, since you were pretty much out of it. Usually, when you got a ride from the couple, you always begged them to get you ice cream, and it was usually Beth who finally agreed.

"Can you guys get me ice cream when I feel better?" You asked Viv, who helped you walk inside the house, because you felt like you were about to collapse.

"I'll get you 3 scoops." Beth set you on the bed and went to run you a bath while Viv took your temperature and got started on making some soup for you. You finally passed out as Viv left the room, staring at the thermometer in her hand, probably contemplating whether to take you to the hospital or not. Beth felt bad when she had to wake you up to take your bath.

————

You groaned when you were woken up again, this time by Viv. "What?" You questioned her; she simply held up the bowl of soup. "I can't eat," you muttered. "You have to try."

"3 scoops and candy," Viv sighed but nodded. You quickly sat up, quickly regretting it when your head started to hurt more. "My head hurts," Viv could already sense another breakdown coming soon. "Hey, calm down. Just eat some, and we'll get you some medicine." You tiredly nodded, slowly eating now.

"I want Leah." Viv looked at her phone and nodded as she texted Leah a bunch of updates about you. "You have us." Beth said, offended, "Leah is cooler." Beth scoffed, "Your my mini me; your supposed to think I'm cooler."

“But Leah is just cooler; she lets me eat chicken nuggets every night.” You forced yourself to eat a little more of the soup before giving it back to Viv. “She only lets you eat chicken nuggets every night because she can’t make you proper food,” you shrugged, laying back down.

“Don’t fall asleep; you need to take medicine." Despite that, you still fell asleep.

————

The girls decided to just let you sleep until Leah got here. Beth muttered a ‘finally’ as she heard a knock on the door.

All it took was for her to unlock it, and Leah automatically let herself in. “Where is she?” “Spare room,” Viv answered, getting the medicine ready. “What’s in there?” Beth questioned, looking at the bag Leah had. “I got her a teddy bear and chocolate for her when she recovers."

"You already took her temperature?" Viv tried her best not to make a sarcastic remark to Leah, considering how stressed Leah currently was with everything. "Yes, Leah, we gave her water and soup; she took a bath; we were about to give her medicine," you stirred as Leah finally opened the bedroom door. It took your sleepy brain a while to realize it was actually her.

"Leah," you called out for her. She shoved the bag into Viv's arms and got into bed with you. "Where were you?" She gave you a sad smile, seeing how red your eyes were from crying. "I'm sorry, angel. I wanted to take you home, but they wouldn't let me go until I did my physical."

You quickly laid on top of her so she wouldn't go away again. "It looks like you guys are staying here tonight," Beth grinned, getting your medicine ready. "Open tiny"

You did as she asked. "I told you the bread had mold." You scoffed at Leah's words. “Shut up.” Leah took back the bag from Viv and gave you the teddy bear.

“You can have the chocolates after your recovery."

“She’s going to have cavities after her recovery,” Beth muttered, but she couldn’t help but aw at the sight of you and Leah. She quickly grabbed her phone and took a bunch of pictures of the sight.

“Come on, Viv, let’s leave our guest." Viv grinned and walked out behind Beth. “At least they’ll eat proper food."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal #leah williamson #beth mead #vivianne miedema #alessia russo #katie mccabe

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Note

Lips anon! OOOHHH imagine another man getting touchy with the wife during soccer practice, and Miguel beats the living shit out of him lmao

👀👀

Miguel wasn't a violent man, but lately the subject before him was tearing his calm strings almost on purpose. You remained curt and polite towards him, avoiding as much small talk as possible with him, even made sure to show him that no man could actually compete against Miguel.

"Just ignore him" You had said to an apparently calm and serene Miguel that kept giving cold and warning glances at him.

The kids were away, doing a small routine and pre-work out before actually starting the game. Some of the parents took a turn into bringing the kids foods and snacks for later. It was your turn. You were unpacking the beverages in the cooler as Miguel was setting up the table with some lunchables and other baked goods you had prepared. Benjamin was spending a day with Peter and Mayday.

"I'll get the ice." The Parking lot was a few meters away from the field, away from the parents. You took the car's keys and walked over the trunk to get a few packages of ice.

"You need help?" The too familiar and raspy voice made you flinch in uncomfortableness.

"No, Thanks." Your voice was firm, the man, your allegedly fan, was a relative of Victor's dad. A cousin of the sorts. Despite having the previous clash, you somehow had worked it out just for the sake of Gabriela and the team. Still, you all kept your distance from each other to avoid any unnecessary interaction. Until, Alonzo, your fan approached.

"Ah, c'mon preciosa, those bags look heavy."

"Not your business anyways. Kindly, go away, you're making me uncomfortable."

Alonzo held his hands in defense, but your anger made one of the bags to slip and fall from your hands. Alonzo took the bag and touched your shoulder firmly

"Don't you fucking touch me! " You seethed loud enough as you flinched.

"Ay, corazón. You should be grateful that I'm helping you here. Look at the mess you're-"

A loud smack connected to his jaw, doubling him in pain as he stumbled on his feet. Alonzo struggled to keep on his feet as he fell on the floor.

"Como vuelvas a tocar a mi esposa, te rompo más que la puta cara, cabrón!" (If you ever touch my wife again, I'll not only fuck up your fucking face, dipshit.)

He growled as your eyes widened in shock. Some parents had witnessed the whole thing, some approached, Victor's dad included.

The kids were still in their practice, oblivious to the small fight that had broke out.

Alonzo was taken out of the field as Victor's dsd apologized, shame in his face. Alonzo still had the guts to actually threaten Miguel between broken mumbles.

The once familiar ambience dissipated, leaving a tense and awkward energy to linger. It had also been a shock to you, it was the first time in actually seeing Miguel so angry that he went physical on someone.

You remained quiet as you patched his swollen knuckles.

"You ok?" Despite him being the injured one, he asked for your well-being.

"Yeah. just... Let's forget it." your tone meek, as you gently applied ice on his hand.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #dad miguel o'hara #gabi o'hara #Soccer Family ⚽🕷️#mild angst #wife reader #💋 anon #t writes✨

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moonlit-imagines · 4 months

Text

Told You So

Lip Gallagher x reader

warnings: abuse ment

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Lip and reader are close friends who grew to have feelings for each other, but reader is in a toxic relationship (doesn’t have to be physically abusive you can write what you’re comfortable with, I don’t mind either way) . The Gallaghers already know because they’ve had to help them out a few times. Readers partner doesn’t like Lip/The Gallaghers so reader isn’t really aloud to be at the house. One day reader is having a shitty day and decides to go see Lip anyway. Maybe reader’s partner finds out or sees them together and tries to drag reader away but Lip isn’t having it. Maybe they (Lip and R’s partner) fight, ofc Lip win, and it ends in reader patching him up and they maybe they kiss🤭”

“Fuckin’ ay…” Lip mutters loud enough for you to hear as you both sit at a standstill on the swings at a nearby park. His curse interrupts your conversation, one that was already stressing him out enough since it seemed to be the same one you always had.

“Speak of the devil, I guess…” You noticed what—or rather, who he was talking about when your boyfriend could be seen across the street, headed straight towards the two of you. “You can go, Lip. I don’t want you to have to deal with any of this.” Lip sat motionless on the swing, eyes dead locked on your boyfriend. “Lip, you hearing me? I said get out of here. He’s gonna flip.” You waved your hand in front of his face and before you knew it your boyfriend stood in front of him.

“Hey, big guy!” Lip got up, wielding a wide smile that left your boyfriend unsettled. “It’s so great to see you here, I was starting to worry that maybe that bruise on your eye was gonna prevent you from being able to, what do you always say? ‘Look after y/n.’” You and your boyfriend looked at each other in confusion and back to Lip, then your boyfriend took a step forward to intimidate. Too bad for him, Lip wasn’t one to back down.

“The hell you say to me?” Said your boyfriend, towering over Lip and ready to fight since the last time he told him to stay the hell away from you. Lip always made him feel insecure it seemed.

“Oh, I guess that bruise isn’t quite there yet.” Lip sarcastically poked the side of his face with a smirk. “You’re gonna want to ice it, though.” Suddenly, a punch was thrown by your friend and you gasped as your boyfriend nearly fell back.

“Lip, stop!” You shouted and jumped off the swings to distance yourself from their fight. Your boyfriend was quick to fight back and there were fists and blood flying practically everywhere. Lip made sure to get a few good licks to the eye like he promised, getting on top and landing punch after punch after punch until your boyfriend threw him off and gave up.

“Man, I don’t give a shit anymore. Have y/n, they’re not worth all this.” Your boyfriend spat blood onto the dirt and left, leaving Lip laying in the dirt and laughing dryly at the pale grey sky.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked him as he continued his laughter. “Lip, you shouldn’t have done that. He’s leaving, I have to go after him!” You began to panic and as you walked by him, Lip grabbed your ankle.

“Dude, you’re crazy. Just let him leave.” Lip calmly said through light panting. “He doesn’t give a shit about you. I do.” Lip let you go and to his surprise, you actually stayed. You stared down at him and just watched him watching you. You saw all this dirt and mud and muck and blood all over his face and clothes. “Let’s just go back to my house, forget all this shit happened.”

“Yeah…you look like hell.” You replied jokingly. Well, it was true, but you said it jokingly. “But I want to fix it.”

“Don’t.” He replied bluntly. “But maybe you could fix me? I might need some stitches, that son of a bitch has some dumbass rings.”

“Oh, I can see the skull indent on your forehead.” You crouched down to look at him closer.

“Can you?” He asked, rubbing the area you were staring at.

“No.” You chuckled. “Get up. Let’s go.” You held out your hand and helped him to his feet, noticing he was a little dizzy. “Will you ever give my boyfriends a chance or will it always be like this?” You asked him, walking down the middle of the empty street.

“Will you ever give me a chance?” He replied, looking straight ahead as not to fill his head with any hope or embarrassment by your first reaction. You didn’t say anything. “I don’t just hate your boyfriend’s for no reason. And I don’t hate them out of jealousy either.”

“Then why do you hate them?” You asked him, trying to hear it in his own words.

“Why the hell do you think, y/n?” Lip’s voice raised a bit and he scoffed. You stuffed your hands in your coat pockets and continued on in silence, feeling a little hurt that he wasn’t more gentle with you. “Y/N, you know. I know you know. Everyone knows. You date these shitty guys then run to me when there’s a problem with your shitty guy and every time I sit there and I tell you he’s a shitty guy and he shows you just how shitty he is and we do it all over again. I’m a shitty guy, too, but I’m never gonna treat you like that.”

“You’re not a shitty guy.” You said quietly.

“No, I am. But I wouldn’t be to you.” Lip kicked a rock across the street and moved along, still unwilling to look at you. “You should just give me a chance. I’m tired to beating your boyfriends up when I can just be your boyfriend.”

“I’ll think about it.”

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