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#honey i’m going on a strike
suryailproject · 10 months
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Zester from manhwa “Honey, I’m going on strike.”
So, what’s next? 👀
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pierregazly · 24 days
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are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri
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oscar piastri x reader
warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]
request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?
note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!
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It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.
Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.
By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.
“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.
You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.
Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.
“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.
Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.
“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”
Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 
“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”
Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.
“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.
“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”
It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.
Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.
“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”
Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 
“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.
The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 
“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”
The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.
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y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!
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lightsoutletsgo · 2 months
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love letters; dear... — cl.16 (part 1/2)
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: angst, descriptions of breakups and heavy emotions, bad screenshots??
love letters; with love from... (part 2)
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2024
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You sighed, throwing your phone down and leaning back into the couch. Who knew a public breakup could be so exhausting? You scoffed as your phone lit up once more, his name appearing at the top of the screen as the big ‘decline call’ button grew ever more appealing. “Y/N?” The voice of your manager grabbed your attention and your head whipped to look at her as she stood in the doorway of your home studio, “I thought I told you to block his number?” A tight smile pulled at your lips, “I guess it’s harder than I thought?” She sighed, crossing the room to take a seat next to you, “Honey… You don’t want or need anyone like that in your life. You don’t need him… or her…” Your heart clenched, her words striking a chord with you. Finding out at a public dinner that your boyfriend was leaving you for your best friend after he’d been seeing her and sleeping with her behind your back for a year was not the most fun experience. Your manager placed her hand over the top of yours and squeezed gently, “You know you’re allowed to cry about it right?” You gave her a pointed look, “Crying about it won’t help me write songs will it?” She stared back at you, one eyebrow arching upwards as if she wasn’t impressed with what she was hearing, “You are kidding right?” “No?” “Jesus kid…” She sighed, “You’re not a machine… you gotta let yourself be sad… Let the songs come when they come… You’re only hurting yourself more…” 
You looked away from her, eyes casting a glance downwards to your lap as tears filled your vision but you hastily blinked them away. You thought for a moment and your voice was quiet when you replied, “I’m scared that if I start crying, I won’t ever stop.” She inhaled deeply and you didn’t dare look at her, “I think that’s understandable, you’re going through what’s essentially two break-ups right now.” You gave a forced breathy laugh, “Lucky me!” She squeezed your hand once more before standing up, “I’m going to tell the studio guys that you’re not available today. You’re not to be disturbed all day.” Your head shot up to look at her, “Wait. What?” Her face was serious as she looked as you, “Today, you just feel.” You nodded slowly, she wasn’t giving you a choice, “Besides, you write your best songs when you feel deeply…” With one hand on the door she turned back to you, “I’m only a call away if you need me!”  You nodded gratefully and with that she was closing the door quietly behind her and you were alone with your thoughts again. 
Picking up your phone once more, you deleted all texts and voicemails from both her and him. You turned your notifications off and went to spotify. If you were going to cry, the least you could do was give yourself a good soundtrack. Scrolling through playlist after playlist, nothing seemed quite right. All the breakup playlists you clicked on were either your own songs or angry songs, and you weren’t quite at that stage yet. With a sigh you changed your search to ‘sad hours’. Spotting a playlist with an aesthetic looking angsty cover, you noticed that all the songs added were instrumental. That was more like it. You pressed play and inhaled, turning the music up and allowing it to wash over you, allowing yourself to be carried by the flow, the dynamics, the melodies and harmonies. You let it tug at your heartstrings, let it act as a soundtrack to the memories that flashed in your head and yet, the tears still did not fall. 
Almost crying with frustration, you moved from the couch to the floor, sinking down and resting your head back on the couch. The song changed and suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped. The tears came thick and fast as finally, finally, you allowed yourself to break. Huge sobs wracked your body as the music rose in a crescendo, thoughts of him filling your head; how he’d held your hand, the way he’d kissed you, the way he said your name, how he stared at you. With each thought you cried harder, mourning for the relationship you’d lost and the parts of yourself that had gone missing with it. As the strings took over the melody, it was like your thoughts moved from him to her. Your chest felt heavy and tight as you struggled to breathe. Was this what heartbreak felt like? Your chest felt like it was cracking, vision completely blurred by the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Wasn’t crying supposed to make you feel better? Then why did you feel like you’d never stop? Why did you feel so much pain? As the song came to climax and the last notes resonated and hung in the air you couldn’t help the way you hit replay. 
The song washed over you again and again like a comforting touch. It was a gentle soothing balm for your aching heart. As the song repeated, the tears gradually subsided and eventually the exhaustion took over. Not even bothering to move, you stayed on the floor, laying your head down and letting sleep take you under, at least there you wouldn’t feel that all consuming pain in your chest. 
When you woke up, it felt like something was sitting on your chest. You winced as you opened your eyes, feeling how sore they were from crying and you dreaded to think how bloodshot they looked. Slowly pushing yourself to sit up, you grabbed your head and hissed as it throbbed and ached. You picked up your phone to look at the time. You’d been asleep for an hour. You noticed your phone hadn’t stopped playing that track the entire time. Growing curious about the piece of music and the composer responsible for helping with your emotional release you opened your phone, heading straight to their spotify profile. 
‘Charles Leclerc’ Interesting name. You scrolled past the few small recordings that he had released and went straight to his bio. You’d never heard of this guy before but you’d never been touched by music that way before. Scan-reading his bio you noted that it wasn’t even his main profession. Unable to help yourself, you began googling. You learned he was Monegasque and that he was a Formula One driver, that he drove for Ferrari and that he’d had his own fair share of heartbreak and grief. You thought it was sweet that he’d explored music later on in life and you were impressed with the way he played with form and structure of his pieces. Throughout the week, you found yourself coming back to his music again and again whenever you needed comfort or needed to cry. It was cathartic the effect it had on you. And you found that as you listened to his music and the more time you spent sitting with yourself, the easier the songs came to you. 
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You weren’t sure how, when or why the thought had first occurred to you, but as you sat in your home studio, months after that initial breakdown, you had the sudden urge to contact Charles. He had no clue who you were, well at least not personally, but he had helped you through one of the worst periods of your life and you knew you wouldn’t have been able to finish the album without him, even if he wasn’t aware of the impact he’d had on you. Psyching yourself up with a deep breath you grabbed your phone and opened instagram. You searched for his account, finding him easily. Your finger hovered over the follow button but you shook your head and decided against it, you didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. Besides, you hadn’t even spoken to him yet. You sent him a DM request and hoped for the best. 
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y/nsworld
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Liked by charles_leclerc, sabrinacarpenter and 22,982,703 y/nsworld surprise !! "words I wish I had said" is now available on streaming platforms worldwide! this album has been a journey of heartbreak, self-discovery and healing. I've spent months in the studio, both with friends and alone, pouring my heart and soul into each song and I hope you can all feel it. while this album focuses on heartbreak, there are also some songs that are very close to my heart that have been in the vault for a little while now. I know that for some people they will resonate deeply and I hope they bring comfort. I see you and I love you 🤍 thank you to my management for being supportive as ever, my fans for being beyond patient while waiting for new music and my friends for holding; my hands, many boxes of tissues, my drinks on drunken nights out to forget him and most importantly the pieces of my heart while I got ready glue them back together - I am eternally grateful to each and every one of you, now and always. "you'll be okay" all my love, Y/N 🎀
(also thanks to my ex-bf and ex-bsf for providing me with inspiration, without you this album wouldn't exist xoxo)
View all 45,730 comments sabrinacarpenter I cannot even begin to say how proud I am Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld I love you so much 🤍
zendaya you've done it again babe! beautiful soul, beautiful album Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/sworld thank you for all the late night calls to help me through it 🫶🏼
y/nloverrrr WTF?! SHE JUST DROPPED AN ALBUM LIKE THAT? 🧍‍♀️ ⤷ y/nmusic I CAN'T DECIDE IF I LOVE HER OR HATE HER FOR IT 😭
ferrarifannn okay but "best friend breakup" i just know this one is gonna HURT ⤷ f1fann her vocals in the chorus? "always thought that it'd be love, that was gonna mess me up" ⤷ y/nicon "didn't think it'd hurt this much, when best friends break up"
charles_leclerc you're top of all my playlists 🤪 Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld I would hope so 🤭 ⤷ lalaleclerc I- sir? what are you doing here? 😭 ⤷ y/nf1fan EXCUSE ME? WTF? ⤷ y/nmusic since when did they know each other?
musiclover THE CAPTION PLS TELL ME Y'ALL SEE WHAT I'M SEEING AT THE BOTTOM 😭 ⤷ leclerclove she's fucking iconic 🥹 the "xoxo" had me-
y/n.updates CAN WE TAKE A MINUTE FOR "FEEL GOOD"? THAT SONG FUCKING BROKE ME 😭 ⤷ y/nismylove "I'm sorry I'm still not at home in body, I just wanted someone to want me. who sees me as more than just funny" ⤷ charlesandcarlos I fucking SOBBED the whole way through ⤷ yn/wardrobe it breaks my heart that she feels like this but at the same time she's written my comfort song as a result 😭🥺
lewishamilton you never miss! forever proud of you 💜 Comment liked by y/nsworld ⤷ y/nsworld thank you lew! miss you 🥺🫶🏼 ⤷ lewishamilton just let me know the time and place and I'll be there ⤷ y/nsworld I'm texting you rn! ⤷ f1fannn wait hUH? ⤷ lewisfann I'm so confused 😭 how do they know each other? ⤷ y/nmusic lewis collaborated on one of her earlier albums with the name xnda! they've been super close ever since
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rebelliousstories · 29 days
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Not On My Watch
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by @victias
Warnings: Strong Language, Brief Violence, Suggestive Themes
Word Count: 1,128
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Part Two: Faces of Old, Faces of New
Summary: There is something that can flip a switch in even the most trusting of men; jealousy. Now what switch that is all depends on the man.
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Walking alongside each other in the desert was not the most ideal plan for anyone. But it worked for them. Salvation from the blistering heat was found just up the road at a small city that was hustling and bustling with people and shops. 
“How many you got left, baby?” She asked, peaking her head out from the lip of her matching cowboy hat. Deftly, Cooper dug around in his satchel to pull the bag with his chems out. 
“Got three. Know anyone with access here?” He replied, tucking them back in and continuing to walk. 
“Please. You know I always know a guy, baby. Don’t worry about it.” Her tone was teasing as she playfully hit his shoulder. Cooper allowed a small smirk to overtake his face at his partner’s jests. Thoughts ran rampant in his head as he continued to walk. His self esteem was finally on the up and up after they collected the latest bounty, but it was times like these that tested that. 
It seems like a lifetime ago that he had stumbled upon the woman in the middle of the Wasteland, half beaten and looted, but determined to get her effects back in a timely manner. An unusual partnership struck up when she offered a hundred caps to help her find the men that took her gear. As they tracked them through the Wastelands, they quickly realized that they had more in common with each other than they previously thought. 
Oh, and get her gear she did. Cooper did not realize that he was that attracted to someone so covered in blood and gore until he saw the hell she unleashed upon those men. From that point forward, they continued to travel and make their living together. Trading chems and caps for companionship. 
However, in between the nights nestled together for warmth, and days on the open land, doubts came in to the scarred head of Cooper Howard. There was the persisting thought of never being there in the long run. If being feral doe not get him, it is going to be someone else. Or he will just have his body shut down because even he does not know what is going to happen exactly. Or maybe she would realize that being with a ghoul is more of a hinderance rather than a benefit. 
“Hey,” she jolted him out of his thoughts, “you alright there, baby? You left for a little while.” Her voice was honey sweet, and lace with concern as she observed her partner. 
“Course I’m alrigh’. Let’s go.”  He trudged on ahead, leaving the woman to catch up to him yet again. Once in town, they took inventory of what was around them. A few street vendors for food and crafts, a medical shop, a bar, and a little inn that was left from the old days. Walking into the doctor's place, the sterile smell was a welcomed change of pace from the dirty way of. life outside these white walls. Their boots clicked against the hard floor as the saddled up to the counter. 
“We don't take your kind here, Ghoul. Go somewhere else.” A man behind the counter spoke, looking up from his ledger. His eyes scanned the deformed man before his gaze landed on the woman next to him. 
“Now what can I help you with, little lady?” He leered, teeth yellowed beyond saving in his smile. 
“Sixty vials of chems. Now.” She stated. Her face was devoid of any emotion other than contempt. But the man in front of her only saw that as a challenge, while the Ghoul watched. 
“Oh. I think we can strike up a deal. Just for you of course.” Once more, he tried to make himself more appealing than he actually was. 
“Chems for caps. I have no interest in a man that looks, smells, and acts worse than the foulest of ghouls.” She said bluntly and watched the man's face fall. He shuffled around quietly and produced the sixty vials they requested. 
“Sixty chems for one hundred twenty caps.” The doctor eyed the woman nervously for her next movement. 
“That sign out front says ‘five chems for three caps.’ Now, the only you're gettin’ a hundred twenty caps from me, is if you supply the appropriate amount of chems. Now, here's thirty-six caps for sixty chems.” Tossing the bottle caps on the counter, the woman kept them just out of reach until the doctor produced what he had promised. He kept to himself while working on grabbing the vials. Once they had swapped hands, she tipped her hat as the duo walked outside. 
“Pleasure doin’ business with you.” And with that, they left. She passed the chems to Cooper so he could replenish but he just stood there dumbfounded. 
“The hell was that?” He questioned, voice tinged in false fury. 
“That was me getting your meds. What's the problem?” She pushed back, wondering what was going on with the Ghoul. 
“Why didn't you want him?” Cooper's quiet voice whispered as he kept his eyes to the ground. 
“Whatcha talkin’ about baby? What do you mean?” Stepping closer, she tried to get him to look up but to no avail. 
“You could have your choice of man. Even one not so… deformed. What are you even doing with me anyways?” There goes his barriers yet again. Howard had perfected building the walls back up around his heart when they would fall down in front of her. But she just stepped closer to him, and pressed her fingerless gloves hand to his cheeks so that she could look in his eyes. 
“Coop, I don't want no one else but you,” she started, “I don't want someone not deformed. Most of these men are far uglier inside then out. I can deal with someone not attractive to most people. He just needs to be attractive to me.” By the time she had finished, Cooper was looking her in the eye, and feeling himself crumble. 
“Now you gonna make this old cowpoke go soft which is not gonna be too good now, sweetheart.” He drawled out, resting his hands on her hips softly. Pulling her even closer, they stood underneath their hat brims for a moment. 
“That's okay. As long as that cowpoke knows I ain't goin’ nowhere for no one. And I'll continue to make sure he believes and knows that. No self doubt on that front. Not on my watch.” She replied, saying them ever so softly. 
“What's you say we try and find us a nice spot to camp tonight? Wanna be able to treat you for bein’ oh so kind.” Cooper smirked, finally Slipping right back into the charming ghoul she knew and loved. 
“Lead the way, partner.” 
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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months
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All-American Girl - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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summary: Bradley's every part the doting dad to your daughter Tatum, but after talking to some of the other wives on base in your mom's group, you're worried he may be hiding his true feelings about fatherhood.
A/N: not me procrastinating and adding to my country music series instead of literally anything else on my list. here's sickeningly sweet bradley as a girl dad fluff based off All-American Girl by Carrie Underwood.
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x wife!reader
content/warnings: sickeningly sweet fluff, Bradley as a girl dad, mentions of sexism.
word count: 1.4k
Now he's wrapped around her finger, she's the center of his whole world And his heart belongs to that sweet little beautiful, wonderful, perfect all-American girl
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Bradley groaned as he jogged up the front steps, his boots heavy against the brick as he walked up the veranda to the front door. An American flag flapped in the breeze, the pole nestled in the stand attached to the pillar on the front of the house, the mid-afternoon sun striking the front yard, basking over the dozens of plants and greenery that were planted there. Bradley kicked his boots off the moment he crossed the entryway, stacking them neatly by the door. He started unzipping his flight suit, his tanned skin slicked with sweat from the training exercises he’d completed earlier that day. He thought about the list of things he wanted to do before he settled in for the night with you - a shower was the first priority at this point. 
Peeling the olive green suit off his skin, he discarded it in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. His white t-shirt and boxers followed suit, along with the thick, military issued socks. He’d plan on washing those tonight after dinner. He padded along the hallway to the bathroom, his balls of his feet sticking to the cherry wood flooring. The cool water flowing from the shower head was a refreshing comfort compared to how warm he was earlier, he contemplated asking for a transfer to somewhere colder after today - the hot Pacific coast sun was brutal, and despite having lived in California for a few years now, Bradley hadn’t adjusted. Not that Virginia Beach had been much cooler - at least, not in the summer, but it wasn’t as consistently warm as it was on the west coast. 
As Bradley stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a plush, lavender coloured towel around his waist. Shaking his caramel coloured curls dry, he approached the vanity, reaching for the pomade - the same brand he’d been using to tame his hair since he was 14. His mom had taught him that trick - using a styling pomade to keep his curls intact, but less wild than they would be left to their own devices. Part of him wondered if he just never changed brands because it was the one she’d suggested for him, one of the last happy memories of his mother that he had clung to for the last 26 years. 
“Bradley? I’m home!” you called out from the bottom of the stairs, having seen Bradley’s vintage Ford Bronco parked in the driveway. 
“Upstairs, honey!” He yelled back, his deep voice echoing throughout the empty house. 
He quickly pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a fresh, white t-shirt, grabbing his favourite floral print button-down on his way down the stairs. He beamed at you, leaning in to give you a loving peck on the cheek. He knelt down in front of the car seat you’d placed on the floor, smiling softly at his infant daughter as she stretched and yawned, waking up from the nap she’d taken on the car ride home. 
“Good mornin’ sunshine! How’s my girl?”
Bradley held his index finger out to baby Tatum, smiling as she gripped it tightly in her hand. He began unbuckling her harness with his free hand as he spoke to her.
“Did you have a fun day with Mama? What did you do, princess? You and your mama go shopping for some new clothes, baby girl?” 
Tatum let out a happy sigh as Bradley scooped her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest. He leaned his head down to kiss her forehead, his hand moving up and down her back in soft, slow, gentle strokes as he cuddled his baby. He took a seat on the couch, leaning back slightly so Tatum could recline on his chest. He smiled up at you, waiting patiently for you to start showing off the different outfits you’d purchased for Tatum. He’d always sworn that he’d never be the type of father who’d dismiss things he wasn’t interested in - whether it was baby clothes, or ballet, baby and me classes or going for walks around the neighborhood with her - he’d always try his best to be into it. It’s how his mom described his father - always interested in anything to do with Bradley when he was little. 
You delicately sifted through the array of dresses and outfits, each garment infused with your hopes and dreams for little Tatum. With tender affection, you recounted where and when you had acquired each piece, your voice tinged with a blend of excitement and maternal pride. Tatum slumbered peacefully, her soft breaths creating a gentle rhythm against Bradley's shoulder, while you poured your heart into sharing your plans for her future attire.
As the last dress found its place, you sank onto the couch beside Bradley, seeking solace in his comforting presence. Nestling into his side, you felt the warmth of his embrace envelop you, his arm offering both physical and emotional support.
“Are you happy?” you murmured softly, a trace of uncertainty lacing your words as you chewed anxiously at your bottom lip. 
A flicker of confusion danced across Bradley's features before he met your gaze with unwavering reassurance.
“Of course I’m happy, why would you ask that?”
“It’s silly,” you sighed, a moment of vulnerability surfacing before you continued, meeting Bradley’s brown-eyed gaze as you spoke, “It’s just that…you know how I took Tatum to that mommy and me group?”
"Mhmm, every Wednesday," Bradley affirmed, his attention fully focused on you.
“Right! That one. Well…one of the moms was saying how she was so thankful her baby was a boy, because her husband wanted a boy really badly and she didn’t want him to be upset if he didn’t get what he wanted…”
Bradley's brow furrowed with concern as he gently kissed Tatum's forehead, a protective gesture that spoke volumes.
“Babe, he sounds like a dick,” Bradley interjected, shaking his head as he gently kissed Tatum’s forehead again. 
“I’m not finished yet!” You said as you held your hand up. “So anyways, she said that, and a lot of the other moms started talking and saying how their husbands were disappointed when they had girls or relieved when they had sons, and then they said how lucky I was that you were happy with a girl. The one of them said her husband pretended to be, but then he was totally different and genuinely happy when they had a boy next.” 
“And you think I’m doing that?” Bradley queried as he tilted his head to the side, looking at you. 
“Well, no, but…would you tell me if you’d wanted a son instead?”
The corner of Bradley's mouth lifted in a soft smile, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. "No," he replied emphatically, shaking his head. “Because I’ve never wanted a son instead of Tatum. Not once.”
“You haven’t?” You said as relief washed over you, Bradley's words washing away any lingering doubts.
“Not for a second. I’ve wanted Tatum from the minute you told me you were pregnant - I never really gave a shit whether she was a boy or a girl. She’s mine and that’s all I care about. It just happened to turn out that she’s the second Bradshaw girl around here to steal my heart, after her mama.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm, you know that song, the one where she says about how her daddy was praying for a boy, but got a girl instead and she was wrapped around his finger? Then she grows up and  asks her husband one day what he wants, and he says he just wants a sweet, beautiful All-American girl like his wife?”
“Yeah, I know it,” You laugh softly as Bradley begins to hum the tune of the song, singing it softly as he looks down at Tatum.
“That’s exactly how I felt when you told me you were having a girl. I just wanted a beautiful little baby who looked just like you, and that’s exactly what I got. Now I have two beautiful girls who love me more than anything, and I would move mountains for the pair of you. We could have twelve girls for all I care - I’d love every single one of them just as much as I love you.”
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forever-rogue · 2 months
Note
TASM!Peter thought I cannot get out of my head for the life of me: Reader pestering him about him and his weird spider abilities like Ned in the MCU movies, but he’s just so loving and patient because he knows he’s weird and she’s naturally curious
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AN | Imagine finding out your boyfriend is Spider-Man. It’s going to leave you with a lot of questions, isn’t it?❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings | mild language
Word Count | 2.8k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Peter?”
“This isn’t what it-”
“No way!”
“Babe, this is not. I”m not-”
“Holy fuck.”
“Please, you’re dreaming. I’m not actually-”
“Spider-Man,” you blinked a few times and scrubbed at your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But when you looked back at your boyfriend he was still standing there, halfway between the window and bathroom, mask in hand and spandex still covering his body. He looked entirely mortified at having been caught, “Peter.”
“Honey, it’s not…I…” he hung his head and let out a long sigh, annoyed with himself for being so careless, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re Spider-Man,” it was all setting in and you weren’t quite sure how to feel; it was a wild mixture of excitement and annoyance and worry and love - everything all at once, “I…you never told me. We’ve been together for almost three years.”
“I know, sweetheart…it was just better than way,” he tossed the mask onto the couch and took a few steps closer to you. You tensed up and shook your head, “I just wanted to keep you safe. That’s all.”
“You lied to me,” you pouted at him and that was enough to break his heart. If there was anything he hated in the world, it was seeing you upset, “for years.”
“I didn’t lie,” he tried softly but you huffed at him, “purposely. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. Everything I do is to protect you.”
“I feel so stupid,” you scrubbed a hand over your tired face in exasperation. All the weird quirks and odd comings and goings seemed to make sense. It felt almost silly that you hadn’t put the pieces together before. Peter wasn’t exactly subtle, “all this time. The random bruises and cuts…the times you suddenly have to leave - your weird schedule. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? I…Peter Parker.”
“Baby-”
“You’re trying to keep me safe but what about you?” a deep frown settle on your features and Peter shook his head, trying to keep you from going down that particular train of thought, “oh my god. Anything could happen to you! And what if…if something did happen, how would I know?”
Peter gently shushed you, his strong hands settling on your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze. You looked at him, studying his big honey brown eyes and tried to keep the tears in your own eyes from spilling over, “nothing is going to happen to me, I swear it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“It isn’t funny,” you sniffled as a few tears ran down your cheeks, quickly and tenderly wiped away by Peter, “I love you, you dumb bug. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, “you know why?”
“Why?” you huffed softly, reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips so you could press a kiss to it.
“Because I have to get home to you,” he smiled softly, looking more boyish than anything. You exhaled slowly but nodded, “I’m always going to come home to you. There’s nothing I want more.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he agreed and you allowed yourself to relax slightly, “by the way, spiders aren’t bugs. Spiders are spiders…well arachnids but they’re a completely separate thing.”
“Fine, you big dumb spider,” you let out a small laugh before playfully rolling your eyes, “you’re just lucky you look in spandex.”
“Yeah?” he teased, turning in a circle and striking a pose, “you think?”
“Shut up,” you groaned as he laughed, “just come to bed with me. But just so you know, this conversation isn’t over.”
“I would expect nothing less, love.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It took some time to get used to the idea of Peter, your sweet, nerdy, wonderful boyfriend, being Spider-Man. He just never seemed capable of something like that but when you really thought about it, it all made sense. Peter was brilliant and had a kind soul; him helping people just went hand in hand with who he was. 
You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over your worries that something would happen to him - just like he wanted to protect you, you wanted to protect him. That, however, didn’t negate the fact that you had numerous questions for him. You wanted to know everything you could about him well, his spider abilities rather. 
You were curious, luckily Peter loved that curiosity. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Where do your webs come from?” you’d been wrapped up in the book you were reading but the question suddenly hit. Peter was sitting across the couch from you, doing some work on his laptop. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, causing your face to warm up, “I just…you have webby stuff, right? Like…where does it come from?”
“Web shooters,” he answered simply, closing his laptop with a soft laugh and giving you his full attention, “it doesn’t come out of my body, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But spiders have it-”
“Not a spider,” he reminded you as you closed your book and tossed it on the coffee table, “human-spider hybrid. Kind of. I think that’s what you’d call it.”
“Why don’t they call you Human-Spider-Hybrid-Man?” you made a small sound of surprise as Peter reached over and gently maneuvered you onto his lap. His large hands settled on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “wouldn’t that be more accurate?”
“You’re overthinking it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I don’t make it in my body. I make it at the lab.”
“My genius Human-Spider-Hybrid,” you grinned at him and he couldn’t help but return the smile. To say he adored you was putting it lightly, “will you show me sometime? I wanna see it in action.”
He cocked his head to the side as he let go of your waist and held his arms up. You looked at him in confusion and he pulled back the sleeves of his sweater, “they’re right here.”
“Oh,” you reached for one of his arms and looked over the small band around his wrist, “oh? I always thought they were just…bracelets.”
“That’s the point,” he said as you made a small sound of revelation. You held his hand in yours and gave it a tight squeeze, “it’s really not that exciting.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” how could he think being Spider-Man wasn’t exciting? You took his face gently in your hands as you studied the pretty boy, “you are always fascinating and exciting to me.”
“That’s because you love me,” he put his hands on top of yours and give them a squeeze, “you’re biased.”
“I do love you - very much,” you agreed, “but I’d still think the same regardless, Peter Parker.”
He paused before nodding slightly, “I love you too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Peter could feel you watching him, despite your best efforts to remain subtle. It should be noted, however, that your best efforts were pitiful; you might have been openly gawking at him. He stopped what he was doing and turned to you with a small little smirk on his features, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“That’s your area of expertise not mine, Parker,” you weren’t going to bother denying that he’d caught you. You walked over to the kitchen and hopped onto the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you watched him finish putting away the dishes, “but you make a pretty picture.”
“And yet still not nearly as beautiful as you,” he put the last mug into the cabinet before turning on his heel and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “why were you watching me like a creepo, huh?”
“I wasn’t watching you! Not like a creepo,” your cheeks warmed up as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, “I was just…admiring.”
“Uh huh,” he teased, settling his arms on the counter and caging you in, “ admiring. You’re cute. Now tell me what you’re really thinking about.”
“It’s stupid,” you offered him a sheepish smile but Peter just tutted at you before nudging his nose against yours, “promise not to laugh?”
“I promise,” he whispered sweetly, “you know you can tell me anything.”
“It’s a question,” you paused for a moment, “are you like super, super strong? ‘Cause aren’t spiders like proportionally strong?”
Peter leaned back and laughed softly, causing you to gently shove his shoulder. Not that it would matter - he was basically unmoveable. He grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours before you could say anything, “sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh - I’m a horrible, terrible liar. It’s just…you’re precious.”
“Shut up,” you couldn’t deny that inside you were beaming from his praise, “I am not precious! Just curious.”
“I’m pretty strong,” he explained softly as you nodded, “maybe not the strongest being in the galaxy but its up there. I can show you sometime.”
“That’s why you can move things so easily,” it made sense now, why he never seemed to have an issue with moving the furniture or carrying in all the groceries at once, “wow. You’re amazing. The Amazing Spider-Man.”
“Not amazing,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you off the counter, easily and effortlessly holding you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck, “just basically a mutant freak.”
“You’re my mutant freak,” you buried your face in his chest, but not before pressing a kiss to his neck, “that I love, very much.”
“The mutant freak loves you very much too,” you could feel the laughter rumble in his chest as you allowed yourself to melt into him, “curious girl.”
“Can’t blame me,” he could feel you grinning against his skin, “not everyday you find out boyfriend is Spider-Man.”
“True,” he agreed, “I’d be pretty shocked if I found out my boyfriend was Spider-Man.”
“Peter!” this time you were laughing too as he started to walk you both down the hall towards the bedroom, “where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” he rasped, “I can show you how strong I am.”
“Oh,” you felt your entire body warm up, “yes please.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was late at night, but you weren't feeling too tired just yet. You were in bed, staring at the ceiling and deep in thought as Peter laid next to you reading. You liked listening to him make some small sounds as he read and the sounds of the pages turning.
“I'm not a mind reader but you're thinking much too loudly,” Peter stole a quick glance at you, causing you to scoff loudly as you rolled onto your side so your back was to him, “honey.”
“Mind your business, Parker,” you burrowed further into your pillow, “I was just staring at the ceiling.”
“Hmm,” he mused softly, “what's your silly question of the day?”
“Excuse- first of all, my questions aren't silly,” you sat up right and crossed your arms over your chest, “and secondly, you're Spider-Man! I have a million questions. Don't be a jerk.”
“I am not,” he insisted through a few giggles as you smacked him with a pillow. You knew that you'd never hurt him which just made the situation all that much more ridiculous, “I love your curiosity. I love all the little things that cross your mind.”
“Now you're just pitying me,” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled in between his legs so the the two of you were facing one another. He put his large hands on your calves and gave them a gentle squeeze, “Pete.”
“I love you, you know?” He asked softly as you nodded. If there was anything you knew in the world it was that Peter Parker adored you to no end. But then, you loved him just ask much, “you never gotta worry about asking me anything. So come on baby, tell me.”
“Fine. Fine,” you groaned softly before mumbling your question to him, “can you like stick to walls and stuff?”
You'd said it so quickly and fast that Peter hadn't caught what you were saying, “pardon?”
“Ugh,” you huffed, “do you have the ability to crawl on the walls and ceiling like real spiders? Or is something your weird mutant DNA didn't get.”
Peter tried his best not to laugh but he could barely stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up, “yeah, babe, that is something I can do.”
“Whoa,” you watched as Peter stuck his hand to the wall and showed you how it stuck, “that's so cool. Kinda gross but cool.”
“It's definitely gotten me out of a few scrapes before,” he admitted, “I'll take you for a ceiling walk some time.”
Your face lit up with pure excitement before your brows furrowed in confusion, “will our kids have your spidey thingies? What did you call it the other day? Spidey senses?”
Peter had stopped processing anything you were saying as soon as he’d heard our kids. It had stocked something deep within him. He only came back to reality when he felt you tickling his side, “our kids? What do you mean our kids?”
“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up as you bit your lips and shrugged lightly, “I dunno, I just think about it sometimes. You know, one day we’ll have kids. We’ve always talked about that. Unless…you changed your mind?”
“No!” he said much too quickly as a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “I haven’t changed my mind. I-I want kids. With you. Only you.”
“Good,” you relaxed slightly as Peter’s entire face turned bright red, “so what do you think? Will they be part mutant spiders?”
“I don’t know exactly how that works,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him, “maybe it would be inherited or not. I’m not a geneticist.”
“No,” you shook your head as you took his hand in your face, “just a biophysicist and biochemist. Hardly anything to brag about.”
“I’m basically a professional clown,” he grinned as you traced your fingers along the contours over his face. He was so pretty and you loved getting to have him just like this, gentle and quiet and all yours. He took one of your hands in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “luckily I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you too, Peter Parker,” you pulled him into a tight hug; if he had been a normal person you might have crushed him a little too much. Luckily, he was able to withstand your embrace and tenderly hugged you right back, “my Spider-Man.”
“All yours,” he agreed easily, “all yours.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was spring now, and the nights were gentle and warm, finally not filled with rain as they seemed to have been the entire winter. You were leaning out the window and taking in the sights and sounds of the New York evening. 
You heard the door to the apartment open, followed by Peter’s familiar footsteps. Before you could turn around to greet him, you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You sighed softly as you pressed your body into him, “hello my love.”
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear, “what are you doing hanging out the window?”
“Just admiring the city,” you turned around so you were facing him, “and now I’m admiring you. I’ve got another question for you, my spider.”
“Which is?”
“Will you take me swinging?” you asked softly, a nervous little expression on your face. Peter’s face grew into a large smile as he nodded eagerly. He’d imagined what it would be like with you loads of times before. He never thought he’d get to make it an actual reality, “but promise you won’t drop me?”
“I swear I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised, “and I promise you’ll have fun. Whenever you’re ready, just say the-”
“I’m ready,” you said excitedly as Peter laughed softly, “can we go now?”
“Yes,” he kissed your cheeks, “let me go and change. Then we’ll go swinging.”
“You’re the best, Parker,” you grinned at him, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he looked at you with soft heart eyes, “my spider girl.”
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visualbutterflysworld · 4 months
Text
Drunk Vinnie | Vhackerr
Warning: vinnie being drunk and clingy
might make a part 2. idk
“I need to text my girl. I want my girl.” Vinnie whined as he leaned onto Jack. “She’s right there Vin.” Jack laughed as he pointed to you, who was preoccupied by ordering a Uber. “That’s….that’s not her! I’m texting Y/n right now.” Vinnie huffed before pulling out his phone. He pulled in his bottom lip. He squinted his eyes trying to successfully type correctly.
In his mind he thought he texted, baby where are you? I miss you!
Instead he actually texted, “biby here ure uuuu( iiiii muss youuu &&”
You chuckled as you read the text before going back to what you were doing. “Why won’t she text me back!? DID SHE DIE?! JACK CALL THE COPS!” Vinnie yelled when he did see those three bubbles pop up. “Vinnie, stop yelling.” You rubbed his arm, trying to sooth him. “No! Who are even you?! I have a girlfriend, lady!” Vinnie quickly gave you a dirty look.
“I am your girlfriend, Vinnie.” You laughed. “No! You don’t look like my Y/n. My pretty Y/n. Where’s my pretty Y/n?” Vinnie’s bottom lip begins to tremble. “Okay, Vinnie, let’s get you home.” You say, “Jack. Help? Uber’s here.” Jack nods before you and him put Vinnie’s arm over your shoulders.
“Y/n! I love Y/n so much! She’s so pretty!” Vinnie yells as you guys walk outside. “Vinnie, shhh.” Jack said. “Jack-o’-lantern, you just don’t understand.” Vinnie lays his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. Here. In you go.” Jack shakes his head before helping you put vinnie in the car.
After a short 15 minute drive you guys are back at your house, knowing Vinnie will be too loud for his apartment. “Honey! I’m home!” Vinnie yells as he stumbles into the house. You shake your head before shutting the door and locking it. “Do you want some water?” You ask. “Yeah, that sounds great random person. Hey, this place looks at lot like my girlfriend’s house?” Vinnie scans the room.
You quickly dash and get him some water. Once he’s handed the glass, the water is gone in a matter of seconds. “Let’s get you to bed.” You say before grabbing his hand. “Okay, but nothing is happening between us! No funny business lady or I’ll tell Y/n!” Vinnie tells you. It was honestly so cute, seeing Vin miss you even though you were there.
Once you reach the bedroom, Vinnie wastes no time collapsing on the bed. “Mm. So comfy.” A happy lazy smile on his face. You take his shoes off and his socks knowing he hates sleeping with his socks on. “Y/n is the best. Do you have a Y/n?” Vinnie asked as you unbuckled his belt. “Sorta. Expect he’s a guy.” You say before pulling his pants down and throwing them somewhere. “That’s good. What’s his name?” Vinnie ask as you pull him to sit up. “Arms up.” You say.
Vinnie puts him arms up and strikes a pose while doing so. You laugh softly before pulling it off as well. Sober vinnie would thank you because he gets hot to easily in his sleep. “The guy! His name!” Vinnie says before falling back. You don’t know how but he somehow knew he wasn’t under the covers so he quickly places himself underneath.
“Vinnie. His name is Vinnie.” You say before grabbing a t shirt to sleep in. “What!? That’s my name! My name is Vinnie!” Vinnie yells. “I know that, Vin.” You quickly toss your hair in a low bun before sliding in bed. “I never asked but, what’s your name?” Vinnie says. “It’s y/n.” You laugh before moving a piece of hair out his face. Vinnie’s face scrunched before his eyes went wide.
“Wait a minute! You’re Y/n! My Y/n! Oh my God! When did you get here baby?!” Vinnie quickly rushes into your arms. You laugh, “I’ve been here the whole time Vin.” “Nuh uh! That other lady was here! I swear.” Vinnie nuzzles his head in your neck. You lay back so that you can both rest comfortably. “Whatever you say, Vin.” You message his head.
“I love you Y/n. Promise to never leave me like that again?” You smile before slowly closing your eyes. “I love you too. I promise to never leave you again.” You feel Vinnie smile and it isn’t long before the both of you are passed out into a bliss.
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avis-writeshq · 9 hours
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hi ! love ur fics <3
can i request reader as being a massive flirt publicly towards spencer but when its Intimate and Private, reader is suddenly Stunned and Speechless and Blushing and spencer kinda gets the confidence to Do Stuff
im sorry if that was the stupidest described ask ever achh but lov u !
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pairing: s9!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, bombshell-ish(?) reader, fluff warnings: 16+ for kind of suggestive? he’s so in love UGH a/n: thank you for requesting !! wc: 1.22k
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Spencer thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the world. He thinks that you’re glowing every time you walk into the room– no matter how upset or disgruntled you may be– and as cliche as it may seem, he’s certain that swarms butterflies fill his stomach and cloud his mind. In fact, he thinks that you have always had that effect on him, ever since he’s met you. You’re touchy, and despite Spencer’s general aversion to physical touch, he finds that he doesn’t mind your germs much. 
Very often he finds himself at your mercy, with the way your fingers brush against his face as if it’s nothing, as if that movement alone was something that you do with everyone (you’ve only ever done it with him). There are other instances where you’ve been very blatant in your attraction towards him, so much so that he ends up with his cheeks hot more often than not. A part of him is grateful that though you work in the FBI, it isn’t his division. He doubts he’d be able to see the end of it.
“Spencer,” you gush, curling your fingers into the ends of his hair. Or rather, lack of hair. “You got a haircut. You’re supposed to consult me first, you know.”
He laughs, looking up at you as you stand over him while he sits at his desk. “Is that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?”
“Yes.” You speak with mock indignation, properly running your fingers through his hair from his fringe to the back of his head. “It’s so short.”
“Do you hate it?” There’s a momentary pang of unease that strikes at his heart. “Maybe I should have consulted you.”
“No, baby, it looks really good.” You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his hairline. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?”
Of course I’m warm, Spencer wants to say while you continue to dote on him, your hands travelling to his collar next and brushing against his throat. You’re touching me in the middle of the bullpen. 
He opts to not say anything when he sees your knowing smile. You’re doing this on purpose. He clicks his tongue, squeezing at your waist lightly as you lean over him to kiss his forehead. He’ll let you win this battle; he’s going to get you back.
***
He doesn’t really know how to get you back. There are a few harmless things he’d thought of doing: sneaking into your department and hiding your mug on the top shelf (he fears that you’d ask someone, a taller more handsome someone, to rescue it for you), not wearing the tie you picked out for him that morning (he can already envision your disappointed frown and his chest aches at the imaginary you getting upset because of him), and putting toothpaste in your Oreos (he doesn’t want to die). 
All of these ideas go down the drain and he ends up not getting back at you for days. It doesn’t help that he’s been gone for a case while you’ve been stuck at home. It isn’t all bad, and a part of him wishes that he can hold himself to the same level of confidence as Derek when Penelope calls him with flirtatious motives. You do virtually the same thing. 
Your words are honey as you shower him with compliments, ending him with a simple “Hey, gorgeous.” 
It is enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks to warm to a pretty pink. There’s not much overlap between the Human Resources Branch and the BAU, especially considering that you assist more on the training and hiring side of things, so there aren’t many opportunities for you to fluster him when he’s out of the office. He finds that you always make an excuse.
“Hi,” he responds softly, avoiding the teasing gazes of Emily and Derek. “Is… are you okay?”
“Do I need to not be okay to talk to my lovely boyfriend?” 
You’re teasing him, poking fun at the way he so easily surrenders to you. He resists the urge to run out the room. 
“Stop,” he warns half-heartedly. He says your name quietly, tapping his fingers at the edge of the table. “Is there something you needed?”
He can practically hear you smile as you respond, the sound of your mouse clicking in the background. “Oh, yeah. My computer says that my storage is full. What do I do?”
“Your storage is full,” he repeats, smiling. “That’s why you called me?”
“It’s lunchtime in Santa Monica, right?”
He relents, cheeks hurting from how hot and stretched out they are. “Yes.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 
He puffs out a breath of air, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re lovely.” He can imagine you batting your eyes, your smile saccharine. “Don’t you wish that you were here, gorgeous?”
He’s definitely going to get you back.
*** 
Spencer goes to your apartment once the case ends, his eyes dreary with sleep and the horrors that he saw only a few hours prior. Your apartment key hangs next to his on his keychain– a limited edition Tardis charm that you got him for his birthday. He huffs out a breath, unlocking your door and stepping inside. He’s met with you dancing around in your kitchen, headphones on whilst holding a wooden spoon. A part of him is concerned with how easily he could slip into your home without being notice, but the other part can’t help but smile at how carefree you look, and he leans against the wall to stare. 
He doesn’t get the opportunity to stare for long. It’s comical, the way you jump upon seeing him, eyes wide as you rip your headphones off. 
“You’re back! You scared me.” A smile stretches across your lips while you press your palm to your chest whilst taking steps towards him. “Don’t do that ever again.”
Spencer laughs, toeing his shoes off and resting his hands on your waist. His head dips down to meet your gaze, peering up at you with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”
Your cheeks glow warm and you break eye contact. “Yeah?”
“Mm.” He hooks his pointer finger under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I missed you.”
He notes the way you don’t respond, in some sort of daze while your lips part in both surprise and flusteredness. He understands your sentiments– it isn’t often that he initiates affection. 
“Did you miss me, too?” Spencer asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 
“Of course I did,” you croak out, heat building in your head. 
Spencer chuckles, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose, flustering you to the point of no return. He kisses you again, one hand holding the base of your head while the other squeezes at the flesh of your waist. It’s dizzying, the taste of coffee on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in your hair. 
“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs once he’s pulled away. His thumb rubs a line from the back of your ear to where your jawline starts, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”
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reblogs are always appreciated!
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ellecdc · 3 months
Text
Things You Can Say in a Swim Lesson & Also in Bed
meet cute/ugly - swim instructor!marauders + fem!reader
CW: learning to swim/fear of drowning, sexual innuendos, swearing (you know what to expect from me by now)
You were excited. Really, you were. 
Your best friend in the entire world was getting married, and she wanted to be married in the Maldives. So, that’s where you were going.
It didn’t matter if you might need to take out a small loan to afford the trip and time off, and it doesn’t matter that all of the events happening before the event were just as expensive.
This was your best friend, dammit! And you were happy for her.
There was only one problem.
You can’t swim.
But that was going to change today! Or...at least in the next few weeks starting today because you were officially taking swimming lessons.
You were not going to fly to the most beautiful beaches and islands in the world and be the fall risk on bridges, docks, and boats. And for fuck’s sake, you were going to swim with the dolphins whether it killed you (literally) or not.
So, you signed up to take swimming lessons. You felt ridiculous.
You felt even more ridiculous as you stood in the changeroom of a very posh country club that your best friend’s fiancé’s parents own, in a one-piece swimsuit you bought just for these lessons (the only swimsuit’s you owned her two pieces because their main use was for tanning).
You tried to find the most modest swimsuit you could, which was very difficult and still not quite as modest as you’d like because for fuck’s sake why won’t the bum cover your entire arse cheek!?
The people leaving behind you were all middle-aged to senior couples who obviously worked in ‘the business’ whatever the fuck that meant because they can clearly afford the membership fees this place obviously charges per month if their gold and crystal chandeliers in the bathroom stalls meant anything.
You tried to readjust your poor swimsuit one last time before grabbing your towel and making your way to the pool. You just hoped you didn’t flash your tits to the other children likely attending swimming lessons.
Except...you got to the pool and there was no one else there. 
Well, that’s not entirely true. There was one sexy looking lifeguard covered in various tattoos which stood out brilliantly against his fair skin. His black hair rivaled the ink of his tattoos and was long enough to be pulled back into a messy bun behind his head – though a few stray locks seemed determined to keep their place next to his sharp jawline.
You were jealous of strands of hair.
There was also another lifeguard on the other end of the pool putting away various life rings, flutter boards and lane dividers. He was just as striking as the first lifeguard for nearly opposite reasons. His skin was a deep tan colour, and he wasn’t built like a swimmer – rather, he was built quite like a body builder. His arms and torso were lined with hard defined muscle and his thighs...
For fuck’s sake, stop staring at the man’s thighs.
He had a mop of curly dark hair and a pair of glasses that seemed foggy with the humidity of the room; he seemed no less happy about his current surroundings because of it, however.
You awkwardly looked behind you into the changeroom to see if the rest of your class was coming out. Maybe you should text your friend? Ask her to confirm with her fiancé that you got the times right?
“Here for the swim lessons, love?” a deep, lilting voice startled you from your pondering.
You turned towards the voice and were accosted by the view of a third beautiful man.
Is it, like, a requirement to be hot as hell to work here!? 
The man had honey blonde curls and eyes to match that screamed trouble, but the kind of trouble you’d far too willingly find yourself immersed in. Unlike his tanned, spectacled friend, this man was built like a swimmer; he was all long limbs and long muscles, and unfairly tall. You forgot how to speak.
“I’m Remus, I’ll be the instructor tonight. What’s your name?” He asked you like he didn’t have it in front of him on his damp clipboard.
You cleared your throat and offered it to him, and he smiled at your shyness. The smile pulled at a scar that ran through the right side of his lip, and you noticed that he had a few more scattered across his face. They didn’t make him any less handsome, however. Damn him.
“Alright, Y/N. What has motivated you to learn to swim?”
You furrowed your brows at him and looked behind yourself again. “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the class?”
His smile faltered as his brows furrowed to match yours. “Class?”
“Private lessons, Dollface.” The tattooed man drawled as he made his way over to you.
“You’ve got the pool to yourself tonight.” He added with a wink.
“This is a private class.” Remus clarified.
“Jesus Christ.” You muttered. You were startled by a bark of a laugh from the tattooed man and immediately flushed to realize you’d said that out loud.
“How did you not know you booked a private class?” Remus asked with a bemused smile.
You sighed, face feeling like it was about to melt off from sheer embarrassment. “I didn’t book it. My uhm, my friend’s fiancé’s family owns this place and said he’d set it up for me. I thought it was going to be a group thing.”
You felt awfully foolish as the two men nodded. “What made you want to learn?” Remus asked again.
“Uhm, that same friend – her wedding is this spring, and it’s a destination wedding.” But the tattooed man started nodding before you’d even finished. 
“You wanna swim with the fishes, but not in the mobster way. Got it.” He said as he clapped his hands together.
“Sirius.” Remus gently chided the man. “That’s fair, well, you’ve given yourself a lot of time to learn. I figured we’d start by finding out how much you already know.”
You grimaced.
“Well, that’ll be easy, seeing as I know nothing.” 
“Nothing?” Remus asked.
“Nothing.” You confirmed.
Sirius and Remus shared a glance before turning back to you with matching smiles.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” 
“Prongs! We got a firstie!” The tattooed man – Sirius – shouted to the tanned man across the pool as he confidently made his way to the edge of the pool. You opted to skirt around the edge – widely.
The tanned man gasped (far more dramatically than you felt the situation called for) and immediately dropped everything that had been in his arms. 
“No.” He bellowed. “Can I help?!”
Great, now you were going to be inhaling pool water whilst three of the hottest men on earth watched – no big deal.
“That’s up to our swimmer.” Remus said as he looked towards you for an answer.
“I’d relax on the use of that title until you see me in the water.” You muttered.
Sirius barked another laugh, which made the corners of your mouth lift in comradery. He had a way of making you feel funnier than you likely were, just by enjoying your banter. 
“What do you think? Me and James here can be the rest of the class you thought you would be a part of.” He offered with a smirk.
“Class?” James asked, “I thought this was a private session.”
“It is.” Remus answered with a slight edge, clearly used to the other two men getting off topic. “She had the lessons booked for her – she didn’t realize.”
“Gotcha” James said with a clap of his hands. “Okay, I’m all caught up, lets swim!” and with that, he jumped sideways and made a large splash as he landed in the water.
“You’re welcome to use the stairs like a civilized person.” Remus said to you kindly as Sirius cannonballed himself into the pool behind him. Upon hearing the splash, Remus closed his eyes in exasperation. 
You took his advice and used the stairs, wading into the pool until the water hit around your waist.
“So, you’ve never been in a pool before?” Remus asked as he placed his clipboard on a flutter board and mindlessly sent it sailing to Sirius.
“No, not like this.”
“Okay. Do you know how to float?” He continued
You shook your head and looked down to the water.
“That’s alright. That’s perfect, that’s where we’ll start, alright?” He offered you, bending to try and catch your eyes. He was smiling kindly at you and his eyes oozed empathy.
“Here, Jamie and Sirius will demonstrate what we’ll do.”
Without a second though, James threw himself onto his back and brought his feet up, so he was floating on top of the water in a star-fished position. 
Sirius smiled down at him like he was the sun and placed his arm just below him to ‘support his weight’ – though you were well aware that part was just for show.
“Now, we’ll do it right here where you are now; you can touch the bottom, so even if you feel like you’re going to sink, you can just stand up.” Remus encouraged you.
Your heart fell at the ‘sink’ part.
“You also have three certified lifeguards here.” James offered sympathetically.
Yeah, three real Adonis’ here to watch me drown.
“Nothing will happen, love.” Sirius offered in the softest tone you’ve heard him speak since you met him, apparently your trepidation made itself known on your face.
“I’ll help you get into position, okay? Lean back... atta girl, just like that.” Remus coached you as he supported your back, and one of the other men grabbed your ankles to ease them up. The hands near your feet surprised you and you breathed in a gasp, which was mistaken for anxiety. 
“Hey, you’re alright, okay?” Remus said as he paused all movements, “I will not let anything happen to you.”
Jesus Christ, he was going to put you into cardiac arrest.
“Okay.” You offered instead of swearing at him and continued to lean back with his support.
Suddenly, you were suspended above the water as the hands (apparently, they were James’) let go of your ankles. Your instinct was to start kicking and tense up.
“No, you’re alright, keep your legs up and relax.” Sirius coached you from your other side.
Things you can say in a swim lesson and also in bed. 
“I’ve still got you.” Remus reminded you as you tried to do what you were told.
Your legs kept wanting to sink to the bottom, but you did your best to will them upward. 
“Try to take in a breath – the more air you have in your chest, the more buoyant you’ll be.” Remus told you.
You did as you were told, and your ears sunk just below the water.
“You can keep breathing, dollface.” Sirius said, and you felt your cheeks flush as you let out the breath you were apparently holding.
You listened to the sound of the water lapping against your head and the edge of the pool and timed seemed to slow.
This was actually quite nice – floating. You like floating, you decide. You’d like to do more of it; maybe this will be how you would spend your time at the beach in the Maldives and oh my god where is he going get back here you son of a bitch. 
Remus’ hand began to sneak away from you, and in your panic to correct yourself without his assistance, you overcompensated and ended up below the water line.
Gentle hands grabbed your forearms and hauled you above the surface again and you made terribly embarrassing choking and gasping sounds as you wrapped your arms and legs around the being like a newborn koala bear.
“Easy, easy. Hey, you’re okay! You almost had it! You did so well, look at you.” James said brightly as he pushed some of your wet hair away from your face with careful fingers, apparently unaffected by your attaching yourself to him.
Between the men, their flustering you, and the water up your nose – you decided you’ll just spend your vacation at the beach side bar.
632 notes · View notes
thedroneranger · 5 months
Text
Dine Out
Jake "Hangman" Seresin
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Synopsis: Mrs. Seresin packs a special surprise for Jake's first day as Lieutenant Commander.
Notes: Part of the To-do List collection.
Warnings: 18+ only; smut.
Word count: 2.6k.
Busy making sure all his pins were absolutely straight, he didn’t notice as she snuck up behind him. She felt his shoulders drop as she wrapped her arms around his waist and forced herself underneath his arm. 
That radiant smile appeared as he accepted her by his side. “Good morning.” Her voice was still thick with sleep, which made Jake immediately picture her wrapped in their sheets. 
“Mornin’, baby.” He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into his side. She watched him in the mirror. It was a rare time she got to see his candid expression as he looked at her and paid no attention to the mirror. She then looked up at him and they exchanged smiles. He pressed a kiss to her lips.
She slipped out from under his arm, breaking the lip-lock, and stood between him and the mirror. She inspected his uniform, making sure it was wrinkle free, pins straight, collar flat.
Jake took a deep breath, looking past her into the mirror. She returned to his side and also gazed in the mirror. “I didn’t think a couple extra pins could make you hotter.” She kissed his bicep as she leaned into his arm.  
He cracked a smile and leaned down. “That’s called a rank kink, honey,” he explained before again pressing his lips to hers. She gripped his arm tighter so he couldn’t break the kiss. Jake melted into her but they both pulled away, suddenly realizing they had no idea of the time. 
“I’m going to make your lunch. Can’t have you late for your first day.” She untangled herself and let her hand trail down his arm to his palm. She squeezed it before stepping away. Jake sighed longingly as he watched the bottoms of her ass cheeks jiggle as she walked. 
She was wearing one of her own crewneck t-shirts, which wasn’t quite long enough to cover her backside. He liked the view but also liked when she wore his shirts. They were oversized, so she didn’t bother with underwear. Given her shirt also didn’t cover her crotch, she was wearing a lacy thong—just enough fabric to be considered underwear. 
By the time Jake came downstairs, his lunch and coffee were waiting on the counter, and she’d ventured into the laundry room to fold clothes. Jake peeked around the counter to find her softly singing along to the playlist she selected while she folded his shirts. She also had changed into workout gear, ready to hit the gym after Jake left. 
Jake’s fingers grazed her hip as he stood behind her. She turned her head to meet his lips as he pressed his front to her back. “Mhmm, have a good day,” she said. 
“You, too.” He gave her one more kiss before separating from her. She playfully snapped the shirt she was about to fold, striking his ass. She knew it stung—the snap was loud and he stopped in his tracks. Her lip was between her teeth and mischief in her eyes as he turned to meet her gaze with feigned annoyance. 
“Bye!” She quickly became interested in the creases as she folded the shirt.
Day 1 was going well. Jake led his first briefing, which went without a hitch. He was glad his squadron respected him enough not to heckle him, especially on his first day as a lieutenant commander. 
He was glad when lunchtime came so he could take 30 minutes to joke around with the squad. Jake definitely needed to ease into his new leadership role. Going from a co-worker to a superior would be an adjustment that took time. 
Jake already knew his lunch was leftover carbonara. His mouth watered as he thought about the handmade pasta he was about to eat. Unzipping his lunch bag, he froze. Jake blinked and closed the lid. After a few seconds, he reopened it. His eyes did not deceive him. Atop the Tupperware lie the lacy panties Mrs. Seresin was wearing this morning.
He didn’t dare take them out. In slight duress, he almost missed the note. He plucked it out of the bag to read it. 
Your office. Noon. 
Shit. It was 12:05. Jake damn near fell out of his seat as he gathered his things and sprinted walked with purpose to his office. When he reached the door, he took a minute to collect himself. With a deep breath, he twisted the knob and slipped inside. 
Jake was met with red bottoms kicked up on the corner of his desk. Mrs. Seresin had made herself at home, reading the contents of one of the folders neatly stacked beside the blotter. She dropped it to look at him. He locked the door as they stared at each other. 
“Missing something?” Her panties dangled from his finger. A smile graced her lips as she dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the oak desktop. 
Jake was a simple man, and his eyes sank to the neckline of her shirt. He couldn’t see the entire outfit, but he knew exactly which one she was wearing. One of his favorites, a pencil skirt with a structured button-down. 
The first time he saw her in this outfit, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Since then, she’d worn it a handful of times to fulfill Jake’s librarian fantasies.
“I thought you might want a treat for lunch on your first day,” she replied. Eyes still on Jake, she pushed herself out of his chair and walked around the desk. She leaned against the front edge and began to undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse. “Lieutenant Commander.”
Fuck, his new title sounded even better when it came out of her mouth. Jake’s cock twitched. He began to walk toward her. She stood to her full height as she pulled the tails of her shirt from her high-waisted skirt. Even in heels, their height difference required her to tilt her head back to meet Jake’s gaze.
“Sometimes I worry these encounters are just really, really vivid dreams.” The hint of his accent, always thicker when he’s horny, sent shivers down her spine. Jake leaned down and pressed a kiss to the hinge of her jaw, and then the side of her neck. She shimmied her shirt to her elbows to expose her shoulders. Jake took advantage of the visible skin, kissing her shoulder caps. 
He dropped her panties beside her on the desk. “Turn around.” Jake’s voice was soft yet stern. He had pulled away just enough that they could exchange glances as she made a show of facing the desk. Jake took her shirt as though he were helping her out of a jacket and tossed it onto his desk chair. 
As she planted her palms on the hardwood, she was sure to shift her hips so her backside grazed Jake’s crotch. He pressed his full body against her as he leaned over top of her. He placed a kiss to her hairline, followed by another on her temple. 
Meanwhile, his hands traveled down her sides and along her hips. Finally, his fingers came to the zipper on the side of her skirt. Slowly, he pulled it as he continued to pepper her with kisses. 
Mrs. Seresin didn’t realize she had been holding her breath. A gasp escaped her when Jake yanked the fabric and it pooled around her ankles. She felt the smirk on Jake’s lips as he kissed her jaw one more time. 
She bit her lip in anticipation as Jake sank to his knees behind her. He smirked when her tiny “good girl” tattoo appeared. His thumb swiped over it as he knelt down. He tapped each of her ankles for her to lift her feet so he could completely discard her skirt. 
“Wider,” he directed. She compiled, sliding her feet further apart. Softly, he wrapped his hands around her calves and slid them up the backs of her legs to her ass. She bit back moans as Jake left wet kisses along the same path.
She whimpered as his index finger skimmed between her folds. “Awe, baby,” he cooed. “You’re so wet for your Lieutenant Commander,” he said. Jake ran his fingers along each lip, spreading her arousal. Then he quickly swiped a digit from her clit to her entrance. She shuttered, her knees giving slightly. Jake smirked. 
“I don’t want to rush you, but lunchtime is going to be done by the time you dive in,” she said over her shoulder. 
An open palm met her ass cheek. She bit her lip and dipped her head to remain silent. “Lunch ends when I say it does.” Mrs. Seresin felt the heat in her low belly build just from the tone of his voice.
Jake lovingly bit the round of her ass before he sank his face between her folds. He laved her clit and dipped his tongue into her. She gasped and shifted to her elbows, allowing him better access.
Spreading her and holding her open with the pads of his thumbs, Jake continued to lap her core, alternating between dipping his tongue into her and licking her bundle of nerves. She did her best to stifle her moans. His fingers replaced his mouth as he spoke. “If you don’t be quiet, those panties are going to end up in your mouth,” Jake warned. 
Without warning, Jake’s palm met her ass again. She bit her lip to keep quiet, and Jake smirked as he felt her clench around his fingers. He sank his teeth into her ass cheek as he continued to pump his fingers. 
She bounced her hips, falling in sync with him. “That’s it,” he commended. Jake got to his feet, and as quick as possible, he undid his pants and lowered them just enough to expose himself. 
Mrs. Seresin let herself melt onto his desk, cheek and chest flush against it, as Jake slid into her. He ran a hand along the exposed section of her spine until his fingers were at the nape of her neck. She enjoyed the light pressure. Jake listened to her practically purring as he languidly pumped. Each snap of his hips drove hers into the edge of the desk. 
Then his hand moved to her arm, skimming along the limb until his fingers entwined with hers. She pulled their hands so they were tucked against her body. Jake trailed wet kisses along her shoulders and neck, while he fed her praises. 
Her eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm built. She was so close. So close, but she wanted it a little rougher. Before she realized what she was saying, she was mid-sentence. “Is that all you got, Lieutenant Commander?” 
Jake smirked. He untwined his hand from hers and placed it back at the nape of her neck, pressing her harder onto the desk. “I’ve got whatever you want, baby.” She bit back a whine each time his hips snapped into her. Jake was doing his best to hold out until she came, but every time she clenched around him, his resolve melted a little. 
“Fuck,” he said under his breath as she squeezed him again. A thought popped into his mind. “Knee.” Knowingly, Mrs. Seresin hiked her knee onto the desk, and Jake pinned it there with his arm. 
He hissed, enjoying the new angle, and Mrs. Seresin was biting her lip so hard she was shocked she hadn’t drawn blood. However, she was successful in remaining silent as Jake continued to pound into her. 
This was it. Jake's release imminent, he moved his hand from her neck to her clit. The rough feeling of his fingers helped push her over the edge. Jake let himself go, so they came close together. She released her lip as Jake’s motions slowed to a halt. His cock pulsed a few more times. 
His body came to rest over hers. She could feel his pins digging into her back—it made her smile. After a few minutes of postcotial bliss, Jake’s body heat disappeared. Mrs. Seresin moaned as he helped her get up. 
Once his clothes were back on and in order, he helped her dress. She was buttoning her shirt when he grabbed her panties from the desk. “I want you to wear these home.” He knelt and held them out.  
A hand on his shoulder she put a foot through each leg hole. Then Jake pulled them up as he stood. He held her by the waist for a lingering kiss. She pulled away before it could become more. She smiled at him as she picked up her skirt and put it back, completing her outfit. 
“Did you enjoy lunch, Lieutenant Commander?” She winked at him. He extended a hand, which she took it and allowed him to pull her back into a hug. 
“I did.” He pecked her lips. “We may have to make it a regular thing.”
She pretended to mull it over. “I’m sure I can pencil you in.” They both smiled, and he kissed her again. 
They both froze as the doorknob jiggled, followed by a sharp knock. Jake quickly unlocked and opened the door. Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson breezed in. 
“Admiral.” Jake stood at attention. 
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Mrs. Seresin. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Seresin.” Cyclone’s voice was surprised. Also airer, and much softer, than when he spoke to anyone in uniform. 
“Good afternoon, Admiral,” she responded. 
“What brings you to base?” He squared himself to her, taking full interest. 
She smiled. “I wanted to see the Lieutenant Commander’s new digs and assess what we could do to spruce it up a bit.” 
“Mhmm,” he responded. An idea clearly percolating. “Next time you're at North Island, I should have you look at my office. It’s a little stale.” 
“I’d love to, Admiral.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Well, I should let you two get to work.” Mrs. Seresin closed the gap between her and Jake. She pecked his cheek. “I’ll see you both for dinner tonight?” The men nodded. “Great! I’m making short rib lasagna,” she noted as she segued to the door. 
Cyclone winked at her, thanking her for the heads up about the menu. It’d make pairing a wine much easier.  
He and Jake had always gotten along and grew to be friends. Each time he came to Lemoore, they were sure to invite the Admiral over for dinner.
Jake excused himself to walk his wife to her vehicle. “Smooth exit,” she whispered as they walked.
“Thank god you’re a charmer.” He gently squeezed her ass. 
“Jake!” She stumbled a bit. However, Jake was right behind her to keep her from falling. He put a hand on her waist to steady her and placed a kiss on her cheek from behind. 
They walked the rest of the way to the vehicle in silence. “Thank you.” She turned as they approached the driver’s side. She gave him one more kiss, and he opened the door for her to slide into her seat. He then shut it as she started the engine. He shook his head as he watched her drive away. 
On the walk back to his office, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his calendar. A month from today, he added an event, made it recurring, and sent the invite.
After Admiral Simpson had left his office, Jake was alone, sifting through paperwork. He looked over when his phone lit up with a notification. He smirked as he read accepted next to her name. Their next lunch date couldn’t come soon enough.
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665 notes · View notes
supermarketbae · 3 months
Note
hi! did u miss meeee😇 can we have missionary sex, dom billy takes full control of sub reader. He kisses her tears away, praising her for taking his big cock, lots of wet sounds and billy just pounding u into the bed. Thank you🥰🥰🥰
DUH ofc I did love! Grrrrr I’m on my monthly and this isn’t helping my intense forever hornyness so WELLPPP-
Well Aren’t You Pretty?
warnings: dom!Billy, sub reader, manhandling, light choking, p in v, praise, degradation, dirty talk, reader is fem, dumbification, slight breeding kink, idk what else tell me if I missed sum (not formatted bc it’s me also the pic is not meant to represent readers skin tone I Js think it’s pretty)
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Your brain was simply melted. Scorched even. You felt like warm honey was trailing slowly down your spine covering your supple body as your boyfriend, Billy, kissed and suckled on your neck as he whispered filthy things in your ear that had you clenching your thighs together in need. “You’re quite warm.” Came the cool low drawl. You shiver as Billy smirks down at you, lips slowly parting to reveal sharp incisors which he darts his tongue across. The room felt sticky, like a humid summers day and as Billy’s ocean colored eyes look down at you, you huff softly, eyebrows furrowing as he climbs on top of you. “I wonder why that would be.” You coo back smiling impish as Billy takes a strong hand to your cheek, caressing your skin before tilting your chin up and kissing you on your lips fiercely.
“Fuckin’ brat” comes the ever quick reply. Billy’s deep voice never failed to strike a cord of arousal deep in your belly. You wiggle your hips suggestively as you scrunch your nose “You love me though.” You say it as a statement because you know it’s true. Billy shakes his head in amusement, a true smile gracing his tanned face as he nods kissing you once more. You giggle as strands of his sun kissed blonde hair tickle at your face. As much as he’d hate to admit, you have Billy wrapped around your manicured finger.
But, as he dragged his finger down the valley of your perky boobs you keen softly looking up at him with pleading doe eyes as your lashes flutter sultrily. “That shuts you up every. Fuckin’. Time.” Billy bites warmly in your ear. His muscular thighs caging you in hotly pressed against him. Shaking, you look up at him submissively, biting your lip as he grins meanly, placing his mouth inches from yours as he ghosts “And I fucking love it too.” You whine at this, bucking your hips up into his trying for any form of reaction. You get it. Billy licks a strip of your neck “I want words sweetheart.” He sighs and you can feel a bulge as you buck your hips up again.
“Stop teasing” you stutter voice pitchy. Billy chuckles darkly at your writhing whines, wincing as your breathy voice sends heat shooting to his nearing painful hard on. He was going to fuck you until you couldn’t walk he mused, lips quirking up at the thought. “You want me to stop darlin’?” he groans feigning hurt. You could tell by the timbre in his voice that he was going to play you until you broke. “N-uh-No!” You protest quickly and you’re fast to realize your mistake as Billy’s eyes darken in possessiveness. You gasp turns reedy as Billy slips a hand into your shorts index finger rubbing sharp circles into your clit in a way he knows short circuits your brain. “Then want do you want doll?” Billy drags out the pet name innocently. You know what he wants. And you know what you need, so you swallow your pride and beg. “Puh-ah- please fuck me Billy.” Your soft cry has him groaning as he feels a distinctive drool of his cock. “Well aren’t you a pretty little thing” Billy whispers as his large hands grip your waist-much to your delight- as he pulls you down closer to him.
“Gonna fuck you so good sweetheart,” Billy smiles kissing your cheek as your back bows and you arch up into him moaning at his words. “Such good fuckin’ manners,” he continues nipping at your collarbone. “And good manners deserve a reward huh?” He growls as his right hand snakes to your neck addictively. You claw at his bicep holding him as his fingers slip into your gushing cunt. “Bills-ah-Billy please I need it” you whimper, the soft nickname not passing Billy’s ears.
“Such a greedy little pussy hmm?” At this snarky regard Billy thrusts his fingers quickly in and out of your throbbing hole. Mewling you shudder, red nails creating crescents in his golden skin. “Baby please I-oh fuckkk~” your eyes roll while your hips instinctively attempt to cant closed. Billy’s grip on your calf stops this however as he guides your shorts and panties down quickly to have better access to your sloppy cunt. You blush, mouth forming into an oh as Billy’s eyes glaze at the sight-and sound of him working his thick fingers into your tight core.
“Such a good fucking girl,” Billy mumbles husky, as the wet sounds of your glistening heat reach his perked ears, Billy inhales shakily and starts to rut his hips into the mattress as your eyes turn hazy and tear filled from pleasure. “Billy!” Your voice is breathier still and much higher, but the way you say his name has him moaning yours back lowly. “Look at this darlin’ she’s practically leaking for me.” Billy coos referring to your pussy, one hand still placed over your hips holding you down.
As your hole gives a telling repeated flutter he grins evilly and you whine so close to cumming on his fingers. “Are you gonna cum for me doll?” Billy asks deep voice adding to the tight coil in your tummy. You nod vigorously, opening your mouth to speak but only a strangled little sigh slips out. “The only way you’re going to be doing that-” you nearly wail as Billy pulls out his coated fingers, cunt clenching as he brings them to his outstretched tongue to lick them clean. “Is if your creaming on my cock sweetheart.” He finishes. You can’t help but to let out a small keen at his words. You can feel them in your chest clawing their way to your heart and squeezing. Maybe that’s why your heart skips a beat as he pulls down his boxers teasingly slow.
Billy’s head cocks back as the flushed head of his red, weeping dick hits the cool air. You stare at it unabashed and wanting as you trail your eyes up the veins to his glistening slit. “See something you want?” Comes Billy’s forward teasing lilt. Nonetheless though, he grins eyes flashing as you nod needily and whimper for him to rail you. He quirks his brow at your panting silence, so you gasp out “please put it in—ah!” Your indignant plea is cut short with a squeal as he thrusts into you easily and to the hilt.
You cry softly as Billy’s hips piston into yours fast. It felt so good— the rhythmic push of his hips into yours. And as you whimpered and pulsed around his girth Billy let out a loud groan, much to the delight of your cunt that continues to gush around him and tighten warmly. “Feel so-oh fuck—s-so fuckin’ good” Billy slurs into you as his eyes screw shut tightly before opening once more. You relish in the way the corn flower blue of his iris’ are hidden by his blown pupils. The pussy drunk look on his face matched a similar look of pleasure that was upon yours. 
“Always look so gorgeous crying on my dick baby~” Billy murmurs to you hotly as he bites the bottom of your ear, the sting was gentle, shocking you back from the hazy state your mind was in. You gave an appreciative moan and clench around him, your voice betraying you. “So—mmm-so big Billy-ah- make me feel so—so good.” You squeak out. Billy’s drunken grin widens at your praise and he somehow ruts even faster into you. Your body goes slack yet stiff at this your hands clawing into the sheets as well as Billy’s back attempting to anchor yourself to something— anything comforting as your hole is abused again and again. At some point your thighs must have closed again because suddenly it all stops.
Your brain is moving slow and out of focus, like you took a picture and forgot to zoom back in. You’re highly aware of Billy’s strong, warm hands tracing down your figure. You arch into them for comfort until you realize their sinister task. You yelp as his Billy growls lifting one of your legs to his shoulder holding you spread wide for him to do whatever the hell he wants to you.
Billy wants to ruin you.
You can see it in his eyes as his face drops closer to yours. The intensity of his gaze has you shutting your eyes but now gripping onto his shoulders as he gyrates his hips into a slow grind. A slurred moan melts out of you as Billy’s hand, once again finds its place at your neck. “Eyes on me pretty girl.” Billy commands evenly. Immediately your eyes snap open, your brows still pinched. In this position, he was so much deeper, rubbing against a spot that had you seeing stars.
“fuck me~” is all you can choke out whimpering so soft it’s barely audible, but Billy hears you. He complies with a slow deep thrust that has you, again clinging to his bulky biceps. “Right there huh?” Billy groans as you arch up into him “yeahhh right there sweetheart—f-fuck— I can feel this tight little cunt milking me.” He whines into your ear. The only thought in your brain is Billy, and as he fucks you hard and deep, it’s the only thing your brain is tuning into. You inhale shakily when you realize you’ve forgotten to breathe.
Billy swipes his thumb over your lip as you drool, tongue stuck slightly out from the overwhelming pleasure you feel. “Yes—ah-oh fuck please please I-harder!” Your voice warbles pornographically. Your eyes roll back as the tightened hotness in your belly nears snapping. You’re so very, very, close.
“Please-Nuh—no don’t stop-m-‘m gonna c-uh!” Your confusing mewls spur Billy on as his abs tighten he gives an answering shuddering gasp “wouldn’t—ah- wouldn’t dream of it darlin’” he rasps. Billy doesn’t hold back as he moans “come on—mmm- cum on this cock, s-show me how good I make you feel love.” And at the pet name you shatter the tightened coil of arousal in your belly finally snapping, oh so addictively. You attempt to thrash, but are held still by Billy’s arms caging around your body.
The way your warm velvety walls clench around Billy’s leaking cock is enough to send him over the edge as well moaning your name as he spills into you dribbling, as he continues to fuck his cum back in. As he continues to move, you grab his long hair pulling his face to yours as you kiss his plump, bitten lips needily. A few sloppy thrusts later, Billy’s hips still and you pull away breathless from the hot and heavy kiss. Happy and totally satisfied in Billy’s larger body atop of yours.
“You alright?” Comes the now loving drawl of your boyfriend as a dopey smile spreads across your face. You merely giggle, snuggling closer into his arms as you nod “Just peachy.” You snicker. A responding chuckle into your shoulder tells you that Billy heard your silly antics. “I don’t think I remember my name.” You mutter.
You’re only half serious.
Billy kisses your cheek before nipping your collarbone one last time “Then I definitely fucked your brains out doll.”
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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months
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Fine - Billy Hargrove One Shot +18
Minor DNI
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2k
Billy Hargrove x female reader
Based off of an ask by @billysbot :
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SMUT, lots of pet names, language, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, practically plotless, ownership kink, cum play, manipulative Bills; canon-typical assholary
★Lightly edited★
Y/N’s POV:
“Co’mere,” you whisper through panting breaths, tugging Eddie towards Steve’s room. The speakers blare from downstairs; the upstairs of the Harrington’s packed like a brothel.
Eddie takes you into his arms, pinning you against the wall; deepening your kiss. You moan against his lips, rolling your hips to soothe the want between your thighs.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eddie mutters between kisses; his soft, sweet lips moving effortlessly with yours. “Been waiting for this for a while. I-”
“The fuck is going on here?” You hear the deep bark of your ex. Ugh, Goddamnit. “Kissin’ my girlfriend, Munson?”
“Not your girlfriend, Hargrove,” you snap.
“Since when baby?” He steps a little closer. You feel Eddie’s grip loosen; setting you on the floor, fear setting in as Billy closes in on the two of you. You grit your teeth, feeling your anger swell.
“I’ll call you. Okay?” Eddie whispers, hastily; looking at Billy out of the corner of his eye. You can tell he's nervous; which is valid, honestly, because you belong to Billy whether you hate him or not.
“You won’t,” Billy laughs. “You're not gonna talk to her ever again. You understand?”
“Yeah - yeah. Understood,” Eddie mumbles as he meets your eyes again. “M’sorry, sweetheart.”
“Call her sweetheart again. Please,” Billy pleads; an unhinged look in his piercing blue eyes as he challenges Eddie to say one more fucking word.
Eddie turns on his heels, disappearing down the steps.
“Have a nice night, honey,” Billy smiles; flashing you a wink, following close behind Eddie.
You reach out, clawing the shoulder of his red button-down; yanking him back to you as he releases a manic laugh. SLAP. The sound of your hand cracking his cheek resounds through the hallway.
A wicked smile spreads on Billy’s lips; your act of violence carrying the opposite effect, Billy craving more per usual.
“I fucking hate you,” you hiss.
“Sure you do,” he hums; as he steps closer, backing you into the wall. It’s true… it’s not just lip service I fucking hate him. I hate the way I can’t get over him, the way he’s constantly on my mind even when he treats me like absolute dog shit; the way he says I’m the only one; but, can’t quite seem to keep that promise. I hate that I still love him. “Were you gonna fuck Munson?” He winces, looking back at you in disgust. “Are times really that tough?”
“Leave me alone, Billy.” You blow by him, shoulder-checking him on the way to the stairs. He reaches out for you, hauling you back in. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”
“To find Steve. He’s always a good time. And, he’s not scared of you. Bigger dick too.” Lie.
“Fuck you,” Billy growls; his ego bruised as you strike a nerve. A devilish smile tugs on your lips this time.
“We done here?” You chuckle; just pressing his buttons further.
“Not even close.”
Billy’s lips crash into yours, taking your breath away as his hips push into you, guiding you back to the wall. You can feel his bulge, rock-hard against you as he grinds, keeping cadence with your kiss. You give in momentarily; hands, skimming up his muscular body, resting on his firm chest before shoving him off.
“Get off of me!”
You stride away but he grabs you, tossing you effortlessly over his shoulder. “Remember that safe word? I haven’t heard it yet, princess. You must still want my cock. Am I right or am I right?” He sneers as he steps into Harrington’s room, slamming the door shut.
“Billy!” You scream; doing your best to fight your way out of his arms; but, he’s right. He's all you want.
“You think I’m happy about this?” He snips. “I was about to fuck, Rachael Dalton. Pretty little thing; sweet fuckin’ ass, perfect tits. And then you, you decided to sneak in here with Munson. And we can’t have that now. Can we?”
“Why? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You groan.
“‘Cause you’re mine, baby.”
He can't be serious.
“I’m not, Billy. You don’t own me.”
The corners of his lips curl into a little smile. “Well, we both know that isn’t true. Is it, sweetheart?” Billy lunges forward, lips locking with yours. You kiss passionately, gasping for air, gripping his long locks; your body aching for contact.
Heat fans across your being; a steady pulsing between your thighs, an ache in your core that was missing with Eds. No one would ever compare to Billy. It's fucking infuriating.
His blood-red shirt is pulled taut across his broad shoulders; chest fully exposed. You pull at what little buttons remain; Billy quickly rips his shirt off the rest of the way.
You reach for him instantly; drawing your hands from his strong chest through the ripples of his abs, following the deep indentations of his v-lines to his leather belt. You suck off his bottom lip, biting down hard enough to pinch; making Billy moan before shoving you against the wall.
Billy’s rough hands follow the zipper between your breasts, drawing it down slowly; savoring each new inch of bare skin, until your little dress falls to the floor. "Such a whore f’me," Billy chuckles, looking at you lustfully as you stand in front of him in nothing but red lingerie.
“Not for you.”
“Bullshit… Who else would you wear this for? Tell me.” He’s right. Fucking asshole. Billy reaches behind your back; unclasping your bra with a single hand as the other grips the hair at the nape of your neck. He reaches down, tugging at your delicate lace panties; ripping them away.
"Fucking dick," you moan breathily as he takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling lightly; moving to the other as he palms your curves.
"These fuckin' tits," he mumbles, drunkenly against your chest as he continues to play. The other hand reaches down, skimming up your inner thigh. A thick finger glides through your folds, toying with your entrance; your obvious excitement making him release a needy moan. “You say you hate me; but, this pussy says otherwise.” Billy slaps your cunt, making you fuss.
“Stop, Billy.”
“Just say the word, doll, and I’ll stop,” he taunts as you finger the button of his Levi’s, splaying the zipper. “You don’t even know what you want,” he murmurs.
“Shut the fuck up,” you groan as you snare his denim, pulling it and his boxers to his feet as you lower yourself to your knees.
You move back slightly as Billy foots closer, bullying you back to the wall. His eyes beg for you, as you lift his hard length to your plush lips.
"My girl looks so good on her knees. Fuck," he pants; throwing his head back as you swirl your wet tongue around his reddened tip, swiping the lick of precum leaking from his swollen head.
You wrap your lips around him as Billy reaches down, taking your head in his hands; sinking onto his cock as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. Billy grips your hair, pulling slightly causing you to moan and hum, as you start to bob back and forth.
You can feel his thick dick throb on your tongue; every ridge and vein, gliding in and out of your mouth. "S-Shit, baby," he pants; eyebrows knitting tightly.
You add your hands, following your mouth as you work. A slight twist causes Billy to moan; his stance shifting. Taking your tongue you stroke the underside of his shaft, making his thick thighs quiver.
"What would you do without my dick?” He grunts as you deep-throat his cock; gagging slightly. You feel tears roll down your cheeks, dripping off your chin.
Billy slams his hands against the wall, thrusting into you suddenly; moving you even closer to the wall as he uses your mouth to stroke his cock; your head pressed to the partition.
"I'm gonna cum, princess," he moans. You cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently; feeling as they tighten. "Ugh... Christ," Billy grunts; spilling his load deep into your throat. His eyes pinch shut, fluttering open slowly. "Holy fuck," he huffs.
You stand up, watching his beautiful, stupid fuckin’ face as he comes down from his high. He wastes no time taking you back into his arms, mouth meeting yours. "You hate me. Huh? You sure about that? You weren’t throatin’ my cock like you hated me," he mumbles between kisses.
“You treat me like shit. You’re a fuckin’ dick. You’re a liar. How could I not hate you, Billy?” You whisper against his lips. “You’re a disrespectful asshole and your only positive quality is your dick.”
He smiles against your lips; a deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ve got a nice ass too.”
Billy pumps his dick a few times, kicking your foot to the side. You spread your legs as he guides himself to your warmth. You feel his fat cockhead swirl around your entrance; a tug as he starts to stretch you out before drawing out completely. "Fuck... You're soaked," he groans; thrusting himself in fully, taking your breath away. “Gettin’ all worked up over suckin’ my cock?”
"N-No," you stammer.
"Who’s the liar now?" He draws out, thrusting rougher; making you whimper as you feel him fill you to the brim. He wraps his arms around your ass picking you up; you fall deeper onto his shaft, crying in pleasure as he ruts roughly. Billy pumps into you quickly, fucking you out of your heels; landing on the floor below.
He draws you off the wall, walking you to the bed; kissing messily before laying you on your back. Billy mounts you again; gripping your thighs, pulling you to the edge.
He wraps your legs around his shoulders; taking his dick in his fist again. Billy runs his cock along the length of your soaked silk, gathering your arousal before pressing himself in nice and slow.
He rocks his length into you, playing with depths; watching your eyes roll back as he drags out. Your breasts bounce with each clap of your ass against his hips.
Taking your ankles in his hands he pulls them straight up in the air, using them as leverage to drive deeper. "Shit, Bills," you cry; feeling the pressure of his length and the tugging of the stretch.
"Bills?” He stammers as he watches you get closer and closer to the edge. “Using nicknames again I see. You giving in, baby? Or, are you just goin’ so dumb on my cock you can think straight?”
“Shut up.” SLAP. You smack him across the face again, making him growl in pleasure.
Billy reaches for your wrist, pinning it against Steve’s plush mattress; grabbing the other as well, lowering himself to your lips. “You gotta stop slappin’ me or I’m gonna fall in love with you all over again,” he groans.
Billy reaches his arms down, looping them around your body before tossing you higher on the mattress. He spreads your thighs widely, spitting on your clit before stuffing his cock back inside.
Billy’s body slaps against yours; his hand greeting your greedy cunt, rubbing small circles on your aching pearl. You close your walls tightly around him, causing Billy to throw his head back in pleasure.
"Whose pussy is this?” He moans, breathlessly.
Your eyes roll back in your head; lip bitten as you hold back the words he's longing to hear.
"Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” He snarls as his large hand wraps around your throat, picking up the pace; an unrelenting tempo as you feel your pleasure near its peak.
“Fuck you,” you spit. His hold tightens, a smile spreading on his lips. You can feel your pulse under his hand as your eyes flutter shut. “Yours,” you whimper.
"Good fuckin’ girl… Want me to cum in this tight cunt? Make you cum?" He taunts.
"Yes. M’gonna - Fuck, Billy," you cry as your body flutters around his cock.
Billy moans your name as he floods you with his seed; panting through jagged breaths as he continues to work you through your climax.
Billy’s eyes shut heavily as he feels you relax around him. He wraps himself in you, nestling into the crook of your neck.
The two of you reach for a breath; hearts banging against each other. He draws back not soon after; his hooded eyes meet yours, that same smirk setting on his kiss-bitten lips.
"Still hate me?" He asks, breathlessly; scooping his sandy blonde bangs off his sweat-glistened forehead.
"Yes," you whisper; knowing full well that meant nothing now.
"M’sorry,” he rasps. You roll your eyes and look away; but, he grabs your face, guiding you right back in again. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Billy asks, his tone gentle and warm, contrasting everything leading up to the point.
"You can’t be serious?” You whisper. “Hell fucking no.” A little scowl tugs on his lips. “I wasn’t kidding, Billy. You’re not good for me. I can’t trust you.”
"That’s not true. M’good for you,” he pouts. "You love me. I know you do.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“C‘mon, princess,” he whispers against your neck as he draws his cock out nice and slow. His eyes fall between your thighs, watching your shared releases slip out of your entrance. He swirls his thick fingers, stuffing it back inside; toying with your cunt as his eyes plead with you to say ‘yes’.
“Fine.”
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lustsickforyou · 1 year
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EYES ON YOU ..
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pairing: james potter x female reader
summary: james potter— if anything, was a flirt until the very end. so when he sees a very pretty girl in the library he couldn’t help himself but to go speak with her.
a/n: this idea popped into my head and i just had to write it, james potter is the cutest boy of them all.
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JAMES POTTER was known for many things, but the one thing that surfed around the halls of the school was that he was a womanizer. constantly flirting with all the eligible girls around school, and most found it quite charming. he had this elegance about him when it came to talking with anyone. the way the words fell off tongue was mesmerizing, how he would playfully touch their arm just enough to grab their attention to the action but leaving them wanting more.
you however, felt much more opposite than the other girls around. perhaps that was something you and lily evans could relate to. you knew his tricks, the same moves he pulled on every girl. you watched it all before, and yet something bothered you that he never approached you. always left you watching from afar, wondering why he never tried at any attempt to get your attention. maybe that’s why you hated him and his flirting so much.
it was now your sixth year at hogwarts, classes were ever as busy and your work was piling up each day. it was hard not to fall behind, so often you found yourself in the library attempting to study. the sound of birds chirping outside the window, the sun shining through just as it reached the golden hour of the end of the day. you could hear book pages being flipped, small conversations softly spoken— and of course you could hear james potter enter the room.
he was quite popular, every single time he entered a room someone would say hello to him and strike up a conversation without fail. you attempted to mind your own business, flipping through the pages of your history of magic book. it was hard not to get bored with that class, you wondered how anyone would excel so easily.
james was on his way to meet up with his friends to study, when he walked passed you. everything seemed to go slowly for him in the instance of passing by. he looked over towards you as he made his way across the library. how your face was concentrated and your eyebrows permanently furrowed as you read the words in front of you. the way you glanced up at him, the sun hitting your face in that perfect honey lighting, but looked back towards your book without another thought.
james always saw these kinds of things like a challenge, could he get the girl who seemed so disinterested in him? and as he continued to walk forward and away from you, a thought crossed his mind. how had he never seen you before? he was going to continue forward but some switch flipped inside of him and he stopped in his tracks, turning on his heels with a knowing smirk on his face and heading right back in your direction.
you glanced up again when you heard him change paths, and immediately sighed, covering your face. you definitely did not have time for his shenanigans. not only were you busy trying to catch up in your class work, your hair was a mess and you felt a headache coming on from all the reading you had done.
“is this seat taken?” he asked suavely, and you mentally rolled your eyes. you looked up nervously, and tried to come up with an excuse. “well— i’m expecting somebody.” you landed on the answer rather quickly which made yourself quite proud.
james looked around the room, towards the entrance of the library with no sign of anyone coming. he may act stupid but he was quite intelligent. “right now?” he questioned and you stared at him with shock. “no— but any minute now.” you lied. “any minute?” he teased lightly and you wanted to grab your things and run out of there as quickly as possible. you decided to not respond, looking down at your book again and hoped he would walk away.
“what are you reading?” he asked. would he ever give up? “history of magic, while i’m waiting for him.” you added the last part so he would get the idea that his presence wasn’t wanted here. “well then— you probably won’t mind if i wait here with you.” he pulled out the chair to the left of the square table and sat down. you mentally cursed and leaned back into your own chair.
“are you new here?” he asked, which deep down stung because he hadn’t noticed you. probably not ever— and ever since you grew into your face this past summer and started to use light makeup to enhance your features you had started to get attention from boys. it was probably the only reason he noticed you, even though you had classes with him before.
“no, i’m not.” you shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear and looked down at your book in attempt to forget the fact that you were sitting in the library with james potter, and how you felt slightly embarrassed because everyone around knew exactly what he was doing, therefor they noticed you. which meant a target was on your back from his little fan club of girls who thought they had a shot with the brunette boy.
“what’s your name?” he asked, and you gave in. finally setting your hands down on the table in front of you. “y/n y/l/n.” you replied simply and he had this look of shock on his face, repeating your name with a hint of surprise. “my goodness, i barely even recognized you.” he leaned back, taking you in.
“mm, so i’ve heard. from many people actually.” you stated matter of factly, because it was true. you returned to school looking more stunning than the year before that even your friends were shocked to see you. james cleared his throat, knowing he was already messing up his usual routine with every girl. for some reason with you it felt different. he had been taken by surprise, which set him off the rails completely.
“we had—” he thought for a moment trying to remember. “potions together.” he finished and you nodded slowly. “you were the awkward girl who sat in the back and rarely ever spoke.” he teased and you rolled your eyes at his comment. “that i was.” you sounded disinterested at this point. he was clawing at any attempt for you to swoon after him like everyone else did.
“i’m sorry i didn’t recognize you sooner.” he acknowledged the fact that he was acting like a complete asshole right now. “that’s alright.” you accepted his apology graciously, a smile crossing onto your features as you tried not to laugh at his poor attempt at trying to flirt with you. why had everyone talked big game with him when he acted like such a fool now in front of you?
it hadn’t even crossed your mind that he was nervous, that he was so enamored by your beauty that he was a loss for words. “so where is this mystery man of yours? i thought he was coming any minute now.” he spoke playfully and you smiled back. “he’s often late.” you continued to lie, because if you were being honest you didn’t want to seem like an idiot, you already felt like one.
“not a very good mystery man then, now is he?” he asked and you laughed lightly. “you have a beautiful laugh.” he complimented and you looked down again, feeling your face go hot at his comment. you wanted to slap yourself for ever feeling bashful over james’ words. not after you had seen him flirt with everyone under the sun, and secretly judging people for ever falling under his spell.
“thank you, james.” you spoke quietly. the two of you sat in silence for a moment, him staring at you with that knowing smirk on his face, and you looking down feeling his eyes on you. you decided it would be your turn to ask him questions.
“so— why did you choose to sit here with the girl waiting on somebody instead of with your friends.” you motioned over to the table across the room filled with his infamous group of friends who talked amongst themselves. they learned long ago that james did this kind of stuff, and chose not to pay too much attention to it. james shrugged, glancing at his friends and back towards you because he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you.
“i saw a pretty girl, i couldn’t help myself.” he answered honestly and you narrowed your eyes with a small smile on his face. “what?” he asked and you shook your head with another laugh, so infectious that it made him laugh as well— hesitantly but he still did. “nothing, nothing.” you giggled, covering your mouth in hopes he wouldn’t notice how funny you found this. “tell me what you find so amusing.” he practically begged and you calmed yourself down from the laughing fit.
“i don’t know— i just thought you were all heart eyes for lily evans and she just so happens to be sitting right next to your friends”. you pointed out and he quickly looked over to notice the red head who was speaking with remus. “and it’s terribly predictable of you, you call every girl in this school pretty.” you added and he shook his head, looking back towards you instead of the evans girl.
“i’m not heart eyes for the evans girl.” he swallowed and you shrugged with an upside down frown knowingly. “i’m not! she doesn’t even like me anyways.” he tried to save himself, but you found the whole situation amusing. “whatever helps you sleep at night, potter.” you joked and he rolled his eyes. “you’re horrible.” he teased with a smile and shook his head.
“so i’m pretty and horrible? how can those two things exist?” you asked with a smirk. “oh it does, it’s sitting right in front of me now.” he chuckled. you held up your hands as if presenting yourself in the flesh and he was the one that was now amused. once the laughter died down james let out a relieving sigh. “you really are something y/n y/l/n.” he gushed and you looked away for a moment to gather yourself.
“surprised you remembered my name this time.” you cooed. “i don’t think i can forget now.” he replied, staring down at you. you didn’t respond, only looking up at him.
“go on a date with me.” he blurted out suddenly and you leaned back with a surprised look on your face. “so soon, potter?” you asked and he shrugged innocently. “sorry, but i don’t think i want to go on a date with the infamous womanizer of hogwarts.” you declined and he grabbed his chest, acting as if he had just been shot. no one ever declined his request for such things. only one other red headed girl who seemed to be so far in his mind now. “only proving yourself to be more horrible, darling.” he called you by a nickname that fell so easily off his lips. “thank you.” you accepted even though a compliment was never there.
“come on, the date could be perfect. we could have a picnic on the grass hills behind the school.” he almost begged at this point and you looked up as if you were thinking about it. “and how many girls have you taken on this said perfect date?” you questioned. “not a single one, just you.” he replied. he was effortlessly perfect in every way, and yet you still pushed him away.
“alright, how many times have you asked lily evans on that same date?” you tried now and he went quiet. you had him all figured out, one of the only girls who didn’t see him through those rose colored glasses he so easily placed onto them. james cleared his throat, adjusting in his seat. you saw right through him, but it didn’t scare him off.
“james! are you done bothering that poor girl? we have defense against the dark arts homework to catch up on!” remus called from across the room and james stood from his seat, grabbing his bag and throwing it around his shoulder. “coming, coming!” he yelled back annoyed. “i better get going, leave you to wait for this boy.” he jabbed and you giggled.
“let me know if you ever work it out.” you said and he looked down confused. “what?” he inquired. “you flirting with other girls, and about that date. seems nice if you weren’t the way you were.” you explained. “so you’re saying i have a chance?” he asked and you sucked in a deep breath. “perhaps.” you landed on the answer and he nodded before walking off towards his friends.
“what’s got you so interested in y/n?” sirius poked fun at his friend and james sat down ignoring him. “honestly james, i wish you would just leave the all those girls alone.” peter added and james looked at him disappointed as he grabbed the books from his bag. they all dropped it, opening up their books and pulling out parchment paper. and instead of like usual, james didn’t swoon over lily. he looked back every so often towards you, where you were reading your book intently. and the final time he looked back you were gone.
he had a crush, a huge one. and for days after the interaction the only thing on his mind was you.
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Text
The Man 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.
You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.
The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.
You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.
“Hello, sir, can I get you--”
“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?
You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.
“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”
You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.
“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”
“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”
“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”
“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.
You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.
“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.
“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”
You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.
“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”
“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.
“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”
She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.
“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.
“Yeah, it is, so uh--”
She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.
“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.
He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”
He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.
You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”
You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.
“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.
You look back and forth.
“Apologise,” he demands.
Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.
“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”
“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.
“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”
“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.
You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.
“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.
“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.
“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”
She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade
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samkerrworshipper · 5 months
Text
hard times | awfc x reader
arsenal reader struggles with PTSD and new year’s eve is a particular struggle… but the arsenal girlies are there for her even if she doesn’t know she needs them
warnings: PTSD, anxiety, mentions of violence, mentions of guns, anxiety attacks, mentions of childhood trauma
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You don’t even notice you’re shivering and tearing up under your duvet.
New Year's Eve for most people is a night of celebration, a night of partying, a night of celebrations. For you, not so much.
New year's eve ranks pretty high up on your least favourite days of the year.
Instead of being fun and full of celebrations it was a night of terror and fear.
That’s how you’d gotten under your duvet, the covers of your bed providing a very small shield from the outside world.
It wasn’t a good fix to stop the current downpour of sound around you, you’d tried it all, airpods, earplugs, music, none of it worked.
So you’d settled for clenching your palms down onto your ears, it wasn’t providing any reprieve from the noise cascading around you, but for whatever reason it felt necessary.
This wasn’t even the worst of it, you knew it was only so long until the fireworks started, and as soon as that happened it was almost a guarantee that you would be thrown into a whole different level of stress.
It had been this way since you were a kid, new years eve was a nuisance, a figment of your worst nightmares.
You wished you could go out and celebrate, that you could be normal and be happy.
But ever since your childhood, since it all happened, loud noises and bright flashing lights have always been a big struggle for you.
So, every year, you go through the same routine of hiding under your covers until it’s all over. Normally, the loud noises coming from London strike up a pretty serious anxiety attack, so you don’t bother with hurting your friends with your presence, knowing that all you will be is a burden for them on a night that is supposed to be fun.
It’s fine, you’re used to it, this year though it’s a little bit harder.
With your transfer to Arsenal in the previous January trade period you had quickly found a new family amongst the Gooners.
It was so hard for you to decline the invite to the celebrations for the evening, especially considering that almost every other holiday over the year had been spent with one or a couple of your teammates.
That was the hard part of being the only person left in your family, it was the reason for your stupid fear.
It all simmered down to one stupid night that wrecked your whole life.
Just as you had begun to become completely absorbed with the thoughts in the back of your mind, you were taken out of your trance by a quiet voice and the mattress you were sitting on flexing downwards.
“Hiya honey, you wanna come out for me?”
It’s Beth’s voice, sweet, kind, lovely Beth who definitely should not be in your apartment right now.
It makes you wonder if you are potentially dreaming, sometimes when you get really anxious delirium is a side effect.
“Beth?”
You reach down to pinch your thigh, hard, and it hurts, enough for you to be sure that you aren’t dreaming,
“Yeah hon, I’m right here.”
Her voice is enough for you to pull the covers over your head, the duvet falling into your criss crossed lap.
Beth is perched on the corner of your bed, a smile mixed with concern and care reflecting back towards you.
“What are you doing here?”
Your words are murmured, and spoken downwards towards your lap, because you can’t quite find it in you to look at your older teammate.
“It’s new years, silly, we couldn’t leave you out of the celebrations, the girls that are in town are in the kitchen.”
It’s said so nonchalantly, like this is some organised plan that has been set in stone for weeks, even though this is the first you’re hearing of it.
Suddenly, a firecracker or something goes off somewhere in the distance and your body is jolting on the bed, fresh tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes as your whole face pinches shut whilst the waves of memories wash over your body.
“I thought you guys said you were going to South Bank to do the fireworks and celebrations.”
South Bank isn’t far from your apartment, a couple of blocks south, unfortunately for you, most definitely close enough for the fireworks to be seen and heard.
“Who needs fireworks? We’d rather hang out here with you.”
It makes your jaw clench and your eyebrows furrow, they’ve cancelled their plans to come to your apartment and you aren’t completely sure why.
“Beth, why are you here?”
It’s blunt, but with everything happening and your body in survival mode you don’t have time to beat around the bush, especially with the ticking time bomb which is leading to midnight.
“Less told us that you really struggle with new years, so we’re here for you.”
You know that all of the girls on the team, whether they mention it or not, know about your past, about what happened when you were a child, what led to you moving in with Alessia when you were 14.
Unfortunately for you, she’s spending her break with her parents in New York, so your normal emotional support for nights like these was unable to make it here tonight.
Something doesn’t feel the same about having Beth, and whoever else she’d managed to congregate being here with you, especially when you were significantly vulnerable.
“Beth, I appreciate it, but I don’t want to worry you guys, head down to South Bank, just leave me be. Tonight’s pretty hard for me and I don’t feel like doing much.”
Beth scoots her body up closer to yours, close enough that she can lift her hand up and set it down on your thigh, it doesn’t go unnoticed the way you slightly flinch away from her, the jumpiness running rampant in your body due to the anxiety.
“We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got you, let us take care of you yeah, you don’t have to do anything, at all, just sit on the couch and relax.”
You want to fall directly into Beth, let her give you a big hug and never let go, but there is still a part of you trying to obtain your self dignity.
“Beth, you don’t understand, tonight's really hard for me, and I don’t want you guys to have to deal with it, it’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”
Beth’s hand moves from your thigh, upwards until it’s gently sitting on your jaw, angling your face upwards so you are looking at her.
“Let us be here for you, between myself, Vivi, Leah, Lia, Kim, Laura, Jen, Lotte I’m sure we can all figure out some way to make tonight a little bit easier for you. You don’t have to explain anything, you don’t have to talk about it, we’re just here to show you some love and help you however you need, celebrations be damned.”
It’s hard to refuse when Beth’s kind, concerned and caring eyes are reaching deep into your soul. Tonight is hard, for you it’s like walking up mount everest, and it’s not exactly like you want to break down in front of your teammates but Beth seems pretty persistent about the fact she isn’t leaving.
“After the break in, after my parents and brother were killed, any loud noises resembling guns make me have anxiety attacks, it’s why I don’t like new years.”
Beth just nods and smiles, accepting the information but deciding to let you do the explaining instead of asking questions.
“That’s understandable, anyone in your position would feel the same, I’m sure it must be pretty tough, especially considering that you are still young.”
You bit down on your tongue, nodding to Beth, it is really fucking hard, especially considering that you don’t have anyone to talk about it with, because how could anybody understand.
“It’s why I freaked out a few months ago when you guys were popping balloons after Leah’s birthday party, I can’t help it, it just sometimes comes over me and I can’t control it.”
Beth nods immediately, feeling the guilt roll into her stomach at the memory of her and Katie popping all of the balloons, Beth now recollecting how you left with Alessia almost as soon as it happened.
“Y’know after my mom died it took months for me to be able to go anywhere near a hospital, Viv had to drag me to the doctors for my yearly check up. It’s funny what grief does to us. You want to know what works best for me?”
Beth is trying to find common ground, praying that it’ll work and exceptionally glad when you give her a little nod with your chin.
“I try to distract myself, whether it’s getting Vivi to talk to me or playing a game or watching the telly, helps take my mind off things, how about we try that and see if it’ll work with you, yeah?”
The idea makes you feel a little bit funny, but you are brutally aware of the fact that Beth is trying really hard right now to help you and you really want to be good for her and show her that you can do that.
“Okay, but I need it to be quiet, please.”
Beth just smiles and nods, her layed back demeanour shining through as she stood up from the bed, extending her hand to you.
Your hand is shaking furiously, but you manage to extend it out towards her, letting her own hand steady your as she pulls you up off the bed and gently tugs you towards the door of your bedroom.
To your surprise, when you exit the room the kitchen and loungeroom of your apartment are fairly quiet.
Lia, Kim and Viv are busy in your kitchen, pouring and distributing drinks and plates of pizza. Leah, Laura and Lotte are seated on your couch, a board game of sorts set out on the table, Jen is also joined in on the game, except she’s sitting on the floor directly in front of the table.
Viv, Kim and Lia all send a big smile your way as you slowly enter the room, it’s a spectacle to you, watching the group happily enjoying themselves in your apartment on a night where they could be doing far more than just lazing around.
“Do you want to go sit down on the couch, I know for a fact Leah will be cheating, you could go keep an eye on her, or stay up here in the kitchen with us, it’s up to you.”
The couch sounded nice, and you were aware of the fact that your body was quite tired and worn down from all the stress of the night.
So you cautiously stepped over to the couch, as soon as Leah saw you walking towards her she opened her arms up big and wide for you.
You didn’t second guess it, practically throwing yourself into Leah comfy and warm embrace, her body acting as a cushion to you.
The joint pressure and warmth from the hug did wonders at lifting some of the pressure off of your chest.
“How ya feeling?”
Leah’s voice is soft, whispered directly in your ear so that nobody else hears it besides you.
“I’ve been better, but having you guys here is nice, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”
Leah just smiled, taking a break from the monopoly game they were playing to look at you.
“It’s nothing, we’re here for you whenever you need us, just trying to make the night easier for you however we can.”
You nod gently, Leah’s arm wrapping around your torso to give you a big hug and essentially bond you to her side.
“The fireworks are the worst for me.”
Leah nods, her eyes are so understanding, there isn’t any form of humour or disgust in them, just pure interest.
“Just watch the game yeah, don’t think about the fireworks, I know it’s hard, but just try. We could put on a show for you, how about the new episode of Love Island?”
It’s a offer that you can’t decline, so Leah gets Jen to chuck her the remote, turning on the tv and flicking it directly onto your favourite show.
You relax into Leah, your body falling limp against her and using her as a pillow whilst you intently watch the tv.
It’s all going fine, or as fine as it can be until you can distantly hear a countdown coming from somewhere outside your apartment.
Almost immediately it sets off alarms inside your body, your legs and torso jolting up from the couch.
Just as you are about to rush off, most likely back under your covers or into your bathroom, Leah’s arms grab a tight hold of you, bringing you flush against her body. In a matter of seconds, Viv, Beth and Kim are all surrounding you, somehow sheltering you from the noise outside.
You feel like a feral dog, thrashing against Leah, trying to get away from her, from your teammates, from the world.
As soon as the noises hit your ears though, you stop moving, both of your palms crushing down against your ears to try and drown out the cracking and popping sounds booming from outside your window.
Leah holds you tight to her chest, even as you begin to sob and the panic begins to overtake your body, every time it happens you feel like you are going to die, like this time it’ll be the last and inevitably you know that your wrong, that unfortunately you will live to see out the next year, but it doesn’t make the whole process easy.
Suddenly your brain is crowded with thoughts, memories, sounds.
The sound of your front door being broken down, nobody hearing but yourself, giving you the opportunity to push yourself out of bed and into one of the cupboards in your wardrobe.
Then the sound of heavy feet, doors creaking, and heavy, thunderous, cacophonous gun shots.
No matter how many times you relive it, no matter how many years go by that sound will never disappear from your mind, it’s unforgettable and haunts every single one of your nightmares.
It’s all consuming, until somebody is taking a hold of your face, and staring at you directly in your eyes.
“Y/n, listen to me, you’re safe, we’re all here for you, we’re in your apartment, safe inside, nobody is here to hurt you or anybody else, you’re at home and it’s safe here.”
Kim’s captain's voice is both soothing and terrifying, the Scottish players' words are strong and coated in directness.
Once she notices that you are hearing her she continues.
“We’re here for you, we’re safe, breathe for me honey, deep breaths, you’re here, not out there, don’t worry about any of that, just look at me and breathe.”
You nod at Kim, even as the tears are streaming down your face and you are struggling to breathe, you listen to her.
“Good job, keep breathing, remember where you are, we’re all safe in here with you, nothing or nobody is going to hurt you, I swear.”
Kim’s words do wonders to help you, and with her assistance, as well as Leah’s strong hold, Laura’s hands gently massaging your scalp, Viv’s strong fingers drawing patterns all over your arms, Lotte gently rubbing the tensed up parts of your calves, Beth holding the parts of you Leah can’t and Lia and Jen both flanking kim, looking at you with the same care and concern as she is looking at you with.
It’s a team effort, but you feel completely enveloped by your teammates love and care as you come down from the panic.
“Doing so well for us y/n, it’s all over now, you;re safe, we’ve got you, we’re not going anywhere.”
You look out to the window, temporarily removing your eyes from Kim’s and realising that your captain is in fact correct, all the noises, lights and pain has stopped, the world is quiet and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.
Slowly, as you become more aware of the world and your surroundings, one by one each girl gently removes themselves from you, until you’re left with just Leah, Beth and Viv, the three stragglers who are tasked with getting some food and water into you before sending you off the bed.
It’s a easy enough job, you’re spent and pliant, so Viv force feeds to a slice of pizza whilst Beth forces you to choke down some kind of electrolyte drink.
Once the two are done doting, they both leave you with a kiss on the forehead and gentle words whispered into your ear about how proud they are of you.
Leah is the one tasked with getting you into bed, and she does just that, getting you tucked properly on the covers before giving you a goodnight forehead kiss.
It feels weird watching her walk towards the door, like your being deserted, and you’ve been needy enough as it is tonight but you can’t help but reach out to Leah.
“Stay till I fall asleep, if it’s no trouble?”
Leah just nods and smiles like you’re asking her for a piece of gum, the blonde moving onto the empty side of your bed and leaving her hand flat against your back.
“You’re no trouble at all honey, we’ve got you, any time but especially on these nights.”
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myahs-delulu-palace · 1 month
Text
Human or Doppel…?| That’s not my Neighbor| Francis Mosses x F! Reader OneShot
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After another stressful day of work as a doorman, [Name] reaches her apartment and go inside, she finds Francis sitting on the sofa reading a book. [Name] remembers buzzing him in earlier but can’t help but get a little paranoid now…what if he was being a really perfect doppelganger? Just waiting to strike…she starts to tense up a bit at the thought.
Francis takes his eyes off his book once he realizes [Name] came home, but he could tell something was off already.
"Mmmm Darling? Is something wrong?" he asked when he saw her staring at him.
[Name] snaps out of her trance. "Oh uhm…nothings wrong, just tired from work today…those doppelgangers are a lot of work…" [Name] didn’t want him to know what she was actually thinking…if she did, and if he was actually a doppelganger…she’s be fucked even more early…
Francis sets his book aside and gets up. He slowly walks towards her. She can smell a milky smell from him. He wraps his arms around her waist. "Mmmm…Are you sure everything is alright? You have a serious look on your face."
[Name] forces a smile as she looked at her husband’s tired eyes.
"I’m sure, I’m fine honey…" she was obviously lying, a whole ass fetus could tell she was lying…[Name] was a really bad liar when she’s nervous.
Francis could see through your forced smile. He was starting to worry. "Mmmmm…You don’t look fine darling. Are you sure nothing is wrong? I’m getting that feeling that you have been having doubts about me being a Doppelganger..."
[Name] froze…'fucking hell…how did he figure it out so quick!?' she thought to herself. "What…? What uhm…what makes you think that…?" She was still tryna lie even though she was caught so easily.
Francis noticed her sudden change in behavior. This confirmed his suspicions. His expression softened as he tightened his arms around her. "Darling....the past few days...I could see it in your eyes. I could see that you have been having doubts about me. Am I wrong? Please don't tell me.....you think I'm a Doppelganger..."
[Name] looks at him for a bit deciding whether or not to tell him the truth…Francis sensed her hesitation and gently lifts her chin up. He gently looks into your eyes and softly says.
"Darling, please.....don't be afraid to tell me the truth. I can tell you have doubts about me. I know that there are many Doppelgangers out there and you have encountered them at work. Darling...please tell me the truth. Is that...it? Do you think I'm a Doppelganger?"
[Name] sighs and nods her head finally admitting it. "I’m sorry Francis…it’s just…this job and these doppelgangers…they’re getting to my head…these doppels are getting smarter and smarter and it’s making me paranoid…"
Francis sighs as he gently rubs her back. He kisses your forehead and holds you tightly. He whispers into your ear. "I understand Darling. I understand your fears about the Doppels. But I promise you one thing. I swear to you, that I'm not a Doppelganger. I'm real. I'm not a fake. I'm a real man who loves you. I'm your husband..."
[Name] sighs as she lays her head on his chest for comfort, she was glad her paranoia was wrong…she really needed to relax right now after this stress…
Francis can tell that she was overwhelmed with everything. He rubs his fingers through your hair gently and speaks in a soothing voice. "Why don't you forget about your work for the time being and just relax. I'll make you hot cocoa with chocolate milk just the way you like it, sound good?"
[Name] lifts her head up to look at Francis in his eyes again. "Yes, thank you Francis…I’m lucky to have you…" Francis softens with a smile as he continues to stroke her hair. He leans in and gently kisses [Name]’s forehead. He breaks away with a soft chuckle.
"Mmmm....I'm lucky to have you too Darling. I'll be right back with the cocoa okay?" [Name] nods as Francis let her go, she walked to the living room and sat on the couch waiting for her dear husband to come back.
In the kitchen, Francis mixed the hot cocoa. As he mixes the cocoa on the stove, he hums a tune to himself.
Five minutes later, Francis brings the mug of cocoa to the living room. He walks over to the sofa where [Name] is sitting. He sits next to her and gives her the mug. "Here you go Darling. Fresh hot cocoa for you with extra chocolate milk. Just the way you like it.
[Name] takes the hot cocoa carefully and blows on it a bit before drinking it, it tasted sooo good! Francis made the best hot cocoa. “This is making me feel better already, I love you Francis…thank you again for comforting me…”
Francis smiles softly as he watches her drink the hot cocoa. He wraps his arm around her waist and brings her close to his chest. "Mmmm...I'm so glad. Glad that I could reassure you. I'll always be here for you whenever you are feeling nervous. I love you so much Darling...I really don't know what I would do without you in my life...You're everything to me."
Francis' words made [Name] blush as she cuddled next to him on the couch and continued to drink her hot cocoa, they remained next to each other the rest of the night…
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I just thought, “this will make a great fanfic! :p” and now here I am on the toilet writing this out. Hope you enjoyed reading! I’ve been dying to make a “That’s not my neighbor” story and I finally made one! I would’ve made a twist ending but decided to just go wholesome if that’s alright. Maybe I’ll make an alternate ending…
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