#i plan on making more stickers soon this is just the start | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pearlzier · 3 months

Text

⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐾 ★

pairing : carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : carm is fucking flabbergasted to hear you've never had a proper valentine's day, let alone a special meal. so he has to rectify it as soon as possible.

word count : 2.28k

tags: the bear, jeremy allen white, fluff, valentine's day, carmen berzatto, carmy berzatto, established relationship, awkward carm <3, BEST MAN EVER.

a/n: got this idea from @aliaugustaa, i thought it was so cute so i just had to do it :3 who needs an irl valentines when u have ur little chef man, making sure u know u deserve the best amiright.

it all started when carmen had overheard you, syd and tina talking. he'd been in his office, trying to get some work done with the door slightly ajar, considering the air conditioning in the room was shit, when the three of you had struck up a conversation. he hadn't paid much attention to it. he occasionally tuned into the sound of your voice, of course, but the details of the words you were saying remained mostly lost on him.

until he heard the mention of ‘valentine's day’ come from tina. fuck. if he had to be honest, it'd been years since he'd last.. celebrated? valentine's day? before you, he didn't actually have any reason to do anything for it. carmen avoided the day like the plague, actually, with the bare minimum being done in terms of heart themed menu times. but even he knew that you would've been expecting a valentine's gift from him, right? you two had been dating for what, nearly a year now, so he had to think of something.

that started his panic in terms of what he was going to get you. he had no fucking clue. but what took him out even more was your words, as you leant against the counter with your notepad: “valentine's day is so overrated,” okay.. “i haven't had a valentine since i was like, fifteen, and i'm perfectly fine.”

perfectly fine.

his blue eyes darted quickly to the calendar on his desk, fixing onto ‘february 14th’ almost instantly. he can't bite back a smile at the heart you'd drawn around the date, with ‘v-day’ scrawled messily on it. but all the cuteness aside, he had.. one week. he didn't need to do anything amazing for you, no, considering you did think the holiday was overrated, however he felt there was an unsworn duty for him to prove to you that you were special, and deserved the best.

he sorted the week that he had left into phases. there were four phases, all of them intricately, messily, planned to ensure you'd have a great day. and he'd managed to do all of it right under your nose.

of the four phases, first came the easiest one. slowly easing you into the idea of valentine's day. you weren't stupid, no, you were quiet observant and god knows you would've picked up on any new behaviours from your boyfriend, so he had to try to integrate the day of love into work first.

convincing everyone to mention valentine's day, not obsessively, but repetitively to try get it into your routine wasn't difficult. it was a restaurant, for god's sake, of course they'd have some sort of valentine's menu, right?

so he got marcus to start making some particularly love themed desserts — “uh, sure. don't mind it.” you hadn't seemed to pay much attention to the ginormous order of cupid stickers out back, which worked heavily in his favour.

“yo, cousin, don't worry. she'll be walkin’ ‘round with the whole ass arrow by the time i'm done,” — richie was just as eager to get you in a lovey-dovey mood, with his passing comments about how eva was a total bachelorette and that all the kids in her class were gonna be throwing presents onto her desk.

there was no way to tell whether that was true or not. no one really asked.

“hey, cool, i'm feeling it,” — tina was also happy to help, being overly lovey with you around the restaurant. it was quite unlike her, but still, you didn't mind the affection. little hugs, forehead kisses from dear aunt tina weren't that bad.

“she's gonna realise that we're going overboard,” — syd was the most reluctant. she'd have much rather told you about what they were doing, as opposed to keeping it a secret. however carm was good at convincing her, and it was for a good cause too. so, she let it slide, pushing the valentine's agenda with little doodles of cupids or hearts on her menu designs. you liked them.

so that was phase one done. pretty simple, if carmy says so himself. and you didn't mention anything about it. perfect. he felt a little weird keeping something from you, but, of course, it was a good cause, right?

with phase one completed, he had to move onto phase two. this one was probably his second favourite of all of them. bringing valentine's into the house. valentine's day was all about love. he loves you, of course. it was the reason why he was doing all of this in the first place. so he thought the best way to do this phase was to get you in the mood.

you were very clearly confused by the romcom that was playing on the tv screen when he ushered you into the living room, but you didn't ask many questions considering how tired you were. “carm,” you began, brow furrowing, before you shrugged, moving over to settle on the couch. tilting your head over to the direction of the kitchen, your eyes found carmy bringing over the chinese takeout. it'd been a while since you two had indulged in it, but he knew full well it was your favourite. “you're the best,” his smug little smile told you a lot, but not about his little scheme and its phases.

“i know, babe,” he hums, bringing over the tray and settling it onto the coffee table. carmen shuffled over, settling onto the couch beside you, gently lifting your box onto your lap before he took his own. it wasn't unlike him to take care of you like this, but there was something more tender in how he was helping you. sweet, yes, but it was making you a tad bit suspicious. “you okay?” he asked softly, voice gentle and low, as a small little smile played on his lips.

“mhm,” you nodded, just snuggling beside him with the takeout box in your grasp. you two usually didn't watch romcoms, usually finding a good drama or sitcom however you didn't mind it. this one in particular was quite good.

and besides, carmen having his arm slung around your waist as you two ate was a perfect feeling. so despite your suspicions, you let him have this moment without asking him.

that was phase two done. not too shabby, really. richie and, actually, literally everyone in the bear was a tad bit sick of carmen's rambling about how amazing you were. they literally all knew it, since you were their colleague, but god, could this man talk.

the third phase was one that carmy realised perhaps should've come earlier. it was just getting you things that you liked, without you realising. which was harder than it sounded, considering carmen was shit at keeping things from you, and you were usually the one who looked at orders to the apartment. so he needed the help of his sister, natalie. she was so eager to help that it was a little overwhelming. “so what do they like anyway?” natalie asked as she pushed the cart beside carmen, eyes flickering over to his in curiosity. “bear?”

he was uh, stressing. he loved you so much, and—well, “god, sugar, i love her—” he ran a hand through his curls, eyes widening as soon as he saw the giant valentine's day display in the store. a quiet groan slipped past his lips and he bit his knuckles for a moment, glancing desperately over at his sister. “peach deserves the fuckin’ world, y'know? just wan’ make it special for her,” the pity, and adoration, in natalie's gaze softened her eyes immediately and she gave him a quick pat on the back.

“right,” it was her personal mission now to ensure that you and her brother had a perfect day on valentine's. she was sure of it. a small little grin played on her lips as she ushered him over to the display, and she leant against the cart. “okay, what would she like? something lovey? sentimental?”

“don't fuckin’ know,” carmen muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple as he looked over the many valentine's themed things available. holy shit, this was harder than he thought. he knew you so well and yet, what you'd like evaded him.

“okay, well,” natalie picks up a random white teddy bear, brows raising in question as she offers it to her brother. he grabs at it, squeezes it perhaps a little too hard out of frustration but slowly relaxes his tight grip on it. “okay, that one's going in.”

the shopping trip continued like this, with natalie suggesting things that she thought you might like, with carmy giving his wordless responses. it was kind of therapeutic for nat, to be fair. and carmen was getting the stuff he needed for you. he'd have to thank natalie after, considering soon after he was done with phase three, he was into the final phase. the actual valentine's gift.

this was probably his favourite part. of course, carmen was a chef by nature. so he knew a valentine's dinner was in order. he was sort of sick of hearing anything related to the saint, however he could relax with this part. he'd made sure that syd would keep you out of the apartment for at least three hours. having even gone to the lengths of giving money for you guys to spend, he was clearly working hard. he knew your palette, so well in fact, that he didn't even think twice about what he was preparing.

from what you loved to eat, to what you despised, carmen knew it all. and he wanted to spoil you in terms of what he made, so he also gave sydney strict instructions that the two of you weren't allowed to get any food. hey, he wanted you to have enough room to eat.

he'd planned everything immaculately, of course, but when he heard you and syd at the door, he almost panicked. the table was laid out perfectly, all of your favourite foods available. a flush filled his cheeks at the thoughts of richie's previous words: “shit, cousin’, you a fuckin’ simp,” rang through his head and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, sitting at the table.

“thanks, syd,” your voice called from down the hall at the door, your smile evident in your voice. it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and he shifted where he sat. “m'back, carm!” you were making your way down the hall now, nearing the living room where you assumed he'd be. he was not. “carm—?”

your brow furrowed, since he'd have mentioned he'd be out if he was going to be. “carm,” you hummed as you wandered into the dining room area, not looking into the room until you did, and your lips parted into an expression of shock. “holy shit.”

you're surprised you didn't burst into literal tears seeing carmen sat at the table, wide blue eyes lifting to yours from the table cloth. his cheeks were rosey, a sheepish expression adorning his lips. “fuck, this is dumb,” he got up, scratching the back of his neck once more, “i know you don't—oh, shit, peach—”

his eyes widened as you barelled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame as his hands slid over your lower back. biting his bottom lip, he lifted a hand to your face, just to see your expression. “oh my god, carm,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, bottom lip trembling. carmen's expression only softener, and grew a tad bit guilty.

“oh, no, baby, don't cry,” his thumb stroked over your jaw, brow furrowing. carmen soon pressed a peck to your forehead, his hand cupping your lower back and bringing you into his body. “can't eat ‘n’ cry at the same time,” he soothed with a soft chuckle whilst he cradled the back of your head.

“so this is what you were doin’?” your mumbly words come all soft, watery, glossy eyes lifting up to his as you frown. you may be about to cry, sure, but it's for a good reason. “all this time? oh my god, is it because of what i said to syd and tina?”

a sheepish nod followed, his hands brushing away your tears gently. he smiled, nuzzling your nose with his own as he brushed his lips with yours, squeezing you tight against his chest. “uh-huh,” he muttered, “didn't notice earlier?”

“nuh-uh,” god, you felt kinda dumb for not realising. but also glad you didn't, since you wouldn't be as overjoyed as you are right now. you squeeze tight around his waist once more before you drag him back into sitting down. hey, you were hungry considering his little scheme. “god, carm,” you bite your bottom lip, looking over all the food. not to mention the valentine's themes decorations.

“so everyone was in on it?” you lean against the table, watching as carmen dished out your plate for you, his blue eyes lingering on the food before they lifted to yours when he heard your question. he gives a little nod, pushing your plate towards you. then, he pours you a glass of wine, all smiles. “god, that's why—oh my god!”

giddy, absolutely giddy, would describe you right now. over the fucking moon.

“and when you and nat went out? you guys never go out, holy shit,” you grabbed your fork, leaning against the table with a little smile. that smile soon became the biggest grin he'd ever seen. “babe, this is too much,” you frowned, gaze all fond.

“wait till you see the gifts,” he mumbled around a spoonful of pasta, avoiding your gaze and focusing on his plate.

“carmen!”

682 notes · View notes

zanarkandskylines · 17 days

Text

⭑˚. ⇢ you make a gift for katsuki's 18th birthday.

-`☆ day one of the explosive birthday celebration ! ☆´-

It's the week of Bakugo's 18th birthday - you and all of class A have plenty of plans arranged to make it special for him! You know he's going to feign ignorance, like he doesn't care about all of the love and support, but deep down is a sucker for it. Midoriya and Kirishima had all of the party supplies ready to go, stored secretly in their dorm rooms. Sato bought all the ingredients he'd need to make snacks and a cake for the party while the girls stashed away a bunch of party favors, splitting up everything between their rooms. Everyone was ready to celebrate their favorite explosive hero!

There's was just one thing left for you to do - find him a present.

What exactly did Bakugo want? He never vocalized desiring anything material in nature, not even All Might memorabilia. Getting him a gift card felt a little flat for such a milestone birthday, you wanted him to feel appreciated. With everything the class has gone through in the last three years, especially him and Midoriya, he deserved to be spoiled and shown how important he is to everyone.

In your mind, you went through the things Bakugo liked: hiking, cooking, All Might, spicy foods...maybe novels? You'd heard from Midoriya that he loves to read, but you didn't press him on what exactly his favorite genre was. Scribbling a bunch of ideas into a notebook, you brainstormed for awhile before the perfect inspiration struck - you can make him something!

Immediately, you call Midoriya to run your idea by him.

"Hey! What's up?" he answers cheerfully.

"Hi Izuku! I'm prepping a present for Katsuki's birthday and wanted to get your input. You got a few minutes?"

"Of course! What did you have in mind?" Midoriya seemed pleased that you chose him to help with your little creation for his best friend.

"Here's what I'm thinking..."

───

Later in the day, you return from the craft store with Midoriya, a couple of bags in hand with supplies for your gift. He helps you carry everything back to your dorm room and unloads it all onto your desk.

"Do you want any help making the book?" he offers.

"I think I'll be alright, but if you could get that recipe from Shoto, that would be a huge help!" You dump the supplies out onto your desk, spreading everything out neatly to begin working.

"Sure! I'll go ask him for it now. I'll be back soon!"

Midoriya exits your room quietly as you take a seat at your desk, prepping to start working on Bakugo's present. It wasn't anything fancy or flashy, but thought the sentiment was worth more than any lame gift card. You'd decided to make him a custom recipe booklet! It would be blank, with the exception of one recipe, for him to fill in as time goes on. You know how much he loves to cook and thought it would be handy to keep his favorite meals in one place. The first recipe would be a surprise - Fuyumi's mapo tofu recipe. Bakugo wouldn't shut up about it for weeks after going to Todoroki's house for dinner back in their first year. He more than likely had it, but having it be the first in the book sounds like a decent surprise.

A few hours and paper cuts later, you've crafted a cute little recipe booklet, bound with black rings and packed with subtly decorated pages. You chose not to theme the entire thing, more so just adding in areas for him to fill in instructions, ingredients and cooking time to the pages for reference. The cover was a burnt orange with a blank label on the front, plastered with a bunch of bright stickers of various styles - smiley faces, leaves, stars, food and other accenting themes. You didn't want to assume what Bakugo would want to label it, so you left it blank with some letter sticker sheets inside the cover. The rings are able to be opened, that way he can add additional pages in the future and expand the collection.

Your phone buzzes on the corner of your desk, a text notification from Midoriya appearing on screen.

[Izuku] stopping by with the recipe! [You] great! doors open, just come in when you're here

Midoriya knocks on your door a few minutes later, slipping inside your room and waltzing over to your desk. He looks down at the book you've crafted, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Awww! This is so cool, he's going to absolutely love this. Don't be offended if he doesn't say it though," he jokes, shaking his head with a smile on his face. "You know he's still not great at expressing that kinda thing."

He hands you the recipe on a piece of paper. "Here, I wrote it down for you. Fuyumi's ecstatic you asked for it!"

"Thank you!" you gleam, studying the page's contents. "This'll work perfectly."

Midoriya leaves you to finish your present in peace. You copy over the recipe information onto the first page, organizing it neatly by the sections you created. It's finally finished! At least, that's what you thought until one last detail popped into your head.

Grabbing a black marker, you add in a short and sweet message to the inside cover of the book: "Happy 18th birthday Kats! Looking forward to years of your cooking. - ♡ (Y/N)"

Your heart flutters in your chest as you stare at the words, hoping he'll smile seeing it anytime he opens his recipe book. You grab the muted orange wrapping paper and neatly fold and tuck the book into it, tying it together with a black bow.

Waiting until the end of the week to see his reaction is going to be torture, but worth the wait to see him smile.

extremely flattered to be included in kae's bakugo birthday celebration series! be sure to check out each story this week leading up to his birthday on 4/20 ♡

⇢ master post

-`☆ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏɴᴇ: Coming April 14th - @zanarkandskylines

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: Coming April 15th - @xbabyd0lli3x

ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: Coming April 16th - @angels-fantasy

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Coming April 17th - @starieq

ᴅᴀʏ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: Coming April 18th - @lowkeyremi

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: Coming April 19th - @queenpiranhadon

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: Coming April 20th - @cashmoneyyysstuff

((inspo for the recipe book! it would obvi not be as aesthetic when he'd use it lol but it would have a little decorative templates for him to fill in)) 💥🎁 tags; @gina239 - @mystic60 - @meowze4r - @icedemon1314 - @bigsimpo343 - @ah-mya - @whezdostuff - @berry-vioo - @seonne - @slayfics

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader fluff #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x reader #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #☆.rei writes

394 notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

Text

Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

Commissioned art by @ejpuki on Instagram, same as the one above, this is just a link to the original post. Please support the artist 🖤

Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word Count 4.5k

Pt 2, Pt 3 1, Pt 3 2 , Pt 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9

T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol, drunkeness, mature language, implied masturbation, some sexual content/fantasizing, some self-deprecating language (reader is insecure), age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

This is my first EVER fan fiction piece! If you have a crush on Miguel O'Hara from Across the Spider Verse, this is for you...

---

"Next song is for all the bad bitches in here tonight, let's make some noise." As soon as the song starts you recognize that it's Agora Hills and a switch goes off in your brain as you yank your friend, Hailey by the arm to the dance floor while she struggles to get the last sip of tequila sunrise down the hatch as the ice cubes attack her face.

It was a Saturday night, now very early Sunday morning in mid-November. You and your two friends are in a slightly seedy club in Brooklyn. Right now, all three of you are trying to escape the first-world problems of modern day society, and common issues that would plague late-twenty year old adults like stagnant jobs, anxiety-inducing texts from distant family members about plans for the holidays, and a casual fling that started to sour about 3 days ago.

Right now, all you want to do is dance to this song. And go home for some relief because the tequila is making you horny and your situationship hasn't texted you back for going on 16 hours now.

You and Hailey giggle as you both throw your heads back in bliss to the music, holding each other's pinkies as you try and awkwardly spin on the dance floor.

"Wait!" Hailey calls out and stutters as she lets go of you and tries to squeeze through a sea of musk, 5- Gum, and Bath and Body Works perfume back towards your other friend, Brin, who's still at the bar.

"Fuckkk. Whatever girl." You drunkenly roll your eyes and close them again, throwing your arms in the air, moving to the beat. The song is making you feel even more electrified than before. You toss your head back and move your hands from your shoulders, to your chest, down to your thighs. It's one of those moments where you feel dangerous.

God I love being a woman! You picture going home with a stranger. A tall man's lips crashing down on yours in your dark bedroom in drunken passion, falling backwards onto your bed. You picture yourself pulling your clothes off slowly while his hungry eyes scan your curves…

Your fantasy is interrupted when you feel a clammy hand touch your hip, just below where your see-through top ends. Your eyes shoot what you hope is an annoyed look at the offender. A brown haired guy in a white t-shirt with a flannel who looks like his name is Tanner, smirks at you as he moves past you, but not before letting his eyes dart to your cleavage line under your black bralette. You groan and move the other direction and realize Hailey and Brin are nowhere to be found. Your drunkeness wears off for one second as you slowly jerk around, trying to make your way towards the bar.

A tall brunette with a half sleeve tattoo, glasses, and her straight brown hair in a claw clip is counting her drawer.

"H-have you seen my friends?" you ask her stupidly. The tall brunette looks at you, her small sticker name tag on her baseball tee shirt reads "Reagan."

"I can't hear you, hunny." Reagan has seen this a million times. "Last call just ended. Do you have a ride home? I said, do you have a ride HOME?"

Reagan leans over the bar, holding onto your wrist. Her breath smells good at least.

"Okay look, can you hand me your phone please? Let me help you order an Uber." You blow air out of your lips like a horse and sloppily hand her your phone. "Enter your passcode, please."

You type in your passcode and watch the glint from your phone reflect on her glasses as she orders an Uber for you. Luckily, your address is already saved to the app. "Okay, sweetheart, wait here with me. Miguel is coming for you in 4 minutes." She hands you back your phone and credit card. "Sign here please."

Fuck, did I transfer that 200 from my savings before I got here? You think as you sign the receipt she hands you. The total is $58.75. You scrape the tiny excuse for a pocket inside your skirt and hand Reagan a crumpled up 20 as a tip. Reagan takes it, eyes widen a little bit at the sight of the 20.

Did she mean to give me this much?... Fuck it. She gives you a small, concerned grin.

"Thanks... let me get you some water."

You nod and slump your head forward on the sticky bar.

Suddenly Reagan is shaking your shoulder.

"Hey! Your ride's here!"

You realize you might have fallen asleep temporarily. The room is still moving like you're trying to balance on a waterbed. She places a styrofoam to-go cup in your hand filled with ice water as she grips your left arm.

"Here, just take off your shoes, hunny." She bends over and pulls off your clunky heels and holds them in her free hand. You feel like you're 4 years old. You feel tears well up at the sudden kindness.

"Okay hunny it's okay, come on now." She pulls you outside and to the curb where a black Audi is waiting. The cold air assaults your bare legs and your teeth start to chatter. The driver recognizes his passenger is quite inebriated and gets out, walking towards the struggling pair.

You feel your bedroom eyes creep up when you see him. Oh no, he's hotttt!

You curse in your head silently for not checking your reflection before he got there. You're sure you're a hot mess though.

He's tall, huge, even. Definitely way over six feet. Dark tousled hair with dreamy brown eyes underneath sculpted brows are locked on you as he gets closer. You instinctually run a hand through your hair, trying to make it look more voluminous. Probably a lost cause at this point.

He's wearing black joggers with some worn Nikes. His black hoodie is baggy but you have a very good imagination. It covers a set of broad, wide shoulders and what you're sure are bold chest muscles underneath that lead to a delicious pair of V lines and an endearing happy trail of hair running down his belly button that lead directly to his-

"Can I carry something for you?" His rich voice pulls you out of your indecent thoughts for one second then sends you right back there again.

"Um, yes can you get her shoes please?" You hear Reagan's voice go up an octave.

Girlll me too. You think to yourself.

Miguel takes your heels in a pair of strong, large hands. As he does, he tugs his sleeve and checks a black Apple watch, veins running up a thick forearm. Called it. This guy was jacked. Probably a gym bro. Definitely has a girlfriend. You feel yourself get sucked back into reality. You were probably a 7/10 at best. And right now, probably a strong 4 after your shenanigans tonight.

Miguel opens the back door, allowing Reagan to tuck you in.

"Get home safe hunny," she says.

"Thank youuuu," you slur back to her as you sit, disheveled with your sippy cup of ice water in the backseat opposite of the driver's in front. Miguel gets in the driver's seat, the scent of Old Spice seeps in.

He smells good too?! You feel yourself wanting to sin. He sits in the front seat for a few moments in silence, fiddling with his phone.

"2949 Ocean Parkway?" he asks in his mesmerizing voice.

"Yeah, that's right." You feel yourself perk up. You're starting to sober up slightly but you still have enough liquid courage left to start asking him a lot more questions than you normally would.

"Your name's Miguel?"

"Yes," he answers. "Did you have a good night tonight?"

"I did! It was supposed to be girl's night, I'm not sure what happened to them, though."

"Your friends left you?" His dark eyes glance in the rearview mirror at you.

Sighhh "Yeah, I guess they did."

"You need better friends." One of his hands comes up and grips the shoulder of the passenger seat as he sits up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours for just a moment, then focus on the back window as he pulls out of the parallel parking spot. You can't help but stare at his chiseled jawline and his neck, imagining yourself planting a line of kisses on it while he groans and grits his teeth...

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" You ask in a flirty tone, interrupting your own dirty thoughts.

He cracked a small smile. "What's that?"

"Taco bellllll." You rest your cheek on the shoulder passengers seat, looking at him.

He glances at you, then keeps looking ahead as he drives.

"Well, if you want to update the route I'd be happy to stop anywhere you want."

You laugh.

"I don't know how to do thattt." The car comes up to a red light.

"Here, want help?" Miguel looks over at you as you hand him your phone which has the app still opened, courtesy of Reagan helping you from before. Miguel quickly types, his eyes going from the traffic light to your phone as he tries to enter the new address for the closest Taco Bell.

"Got it," he hands you back your phone, another whiff of his cologne coming off the fabric of his hoodie as he moves his arm back to rest on the center console while he drives with his left hand.

You glance down at your phone and then back at him, still leaning forward with your cheek pressed against the back of the passenger seat.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was curious about his new passenger, probably the last ride he'll do tonight. He didn't get a good look at you when the bartender was putting you in his car. He glanced over at you again when he thought you weren't looking, but quickly moved his eyes back to the road when he saw you were staring at him already with your cheek pressed against the passenger seat.

"You tired?"

"Kind of," you fake a small yawn while still holding your position.

Miguel laughed. He thought that was kind of amusing, how you were clearly faking being tired and shamelessly staring at him while he drove. He knew he was a good looking guy. Once you got into his car, he felt like he needed to take care of you and make sure you got home safe since your shitty friends wouldn't.

Your eyes wander to the space between his chest and the steering wheel, trying to imagine yourself in it, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hot, frantic, breaths fogged the windows as your bodies pressed together...

"So, y/n , right?" He asks.

Fuuuuck he said my name...

"Yeah..how did you know?! Oh right, the app, the app..."

Miguel smiles.

"So, Miguel, how is it being an Uber driver?" you ask. Feeling brave, you touch his elbow resting on the center console. Miguel's fist clenches tighter around the steering wheel at your touch.

"It's...not bad. It's been pretty busy tonight, actually. I went to the gym earlier then just have been taking a few folks like yourself around town who were going out as well. "

"That's nice. You know, we're gonna be best friends by the end of this drive," you grin, taking another sip of ice water.

"Really?" Miguel smirks. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Your heart flutters at this question. Why is he asking me that?!

"Uhm, no.. I was talking to a guy but I think he ghosted me."

"Heh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel replied, not sorry at all.

"Do girls ghost you? Or-uh, I mean- do you, do you have a girlfriend?" you manage to spit out.

Miguel smiles at your stutters.

"Nah, I'm single. I do have a daughter though."

Your smile disappears for a moment. A daughter? "Awhhh, what's her name? How old is she?"

"Her name's Gabriella. She's 6."

"That's sweet...." Miguel's handsomeness mixed with the liquor is enough to cause all rational thinking to exit your brain. I could be a step-mom, easy! I love kids, what the hell?

"So, how old are you?" You ask.

Miguel chuckles. "Isn't it rude to ask a stranger's age?" He glances over at you and the corner of his mouth raises at your slightly mortified expression. "I'm just messing with you- I'm 34."

"Dang, I'm 26," you answer as you look out the window.

"You're still pretty young," Miguel remarks as he turns down a new street.

"I definitely don't feel that way," you answer as you slump in your seat. You decide to check your email. Once you open it, a message that you don't want to see is at the very top. It's a random Yahoo email address you don't recognize which means only one thing: your asshole, estranged dad. You click on it quickly to clear the bold lettering indicating it's unread, and catch a quick glimpse of its contents which is a novel with no spacing. You quickly delete it with a loud sigh.

"Everything okay?" Miguel asks.

"Just my dad. Somehow he made another email address and tried to contact me again. It's a long story though we don't have to get into it..." your voice cracks slightly.

The skin around Miguel's eyes softens when you mention your tense relationship with your father. He himself knew that pain as well. His father, George O'Hara, wasn't a model parent, either.

"I'm sorry you're going through that," Miguel says emphatically. "I don't have the best relationship with my dad, either."

Once you hear this, the last bit of liquid courage in your system inspires you to spill the tea.

"He and my mom are divorced, and, well he's just a narcissist, right? Growing up, I didn't see it, but his whole family is full of them. My grandma never wanted him to marry my mom and so ever since their wedding day, she treated her like shit and when I came along, it was no different. I used to wonder why at Christmases she got bigger presents for the other grandkids and ask why she didn't show up for my birthday parties. My dad never did anything about it and always took their side. I finally realized it when I was about 16 when they divorced, and that's when I said fuck it. If you're not gonna stick up for my mom or me, I don't really want anything to do with you or your family."

Miguel nodded, just listening to you speak, glancing at you in the rearview mirror so you knew he was paying attention.

"Wow, I must say, that sounds horrible. Good on you for sticking up for yourself and your mother. As a parent myself, I can't ever imagine treating my own child or their family that way..."

You sigh.

"Yeah, shit's fucked. But there's nothing I can do about it, you know? I just don't have the strength to talk to him right now. But he never fails to try to reach out about this time every year. Since it's the holidays."

The car arrives at another red light. This time, Miguel turns around to face you while you're stopped, his eyes directly looking into yours.

"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you. No matter how hard it is. I know that most people think that family is everything, but, truth is sometimes they can hurt you the most." Miguel then turns back to the wheel.

You feel a flutter in your stomach as though an invisible spark appeared. You were strongly physically attracted to your handsome Uber driver, no doubt about it, but after hearing him speak, you realize there's more behind his captivating features. You feel the very beginning of a connection starting to form and suddenly you wish you had all night to talk to him. Miguel felt the same way, too. In fact, he was going 5 miles under the speed limit and riding the slow lane to try and prolong the encounter. Luckily, you were still too tipsy to notice.

"Well, this should cheer you up..." Miguel pulls the car into the Taco Bell parking lot. You groan internally when you realize you're going to have to go inside. You step out of the car, the cold air assaulting your bare skin again. Miguel notices you shivering.

"Here." Without hesitation, he peels off his hoodie and hands it to you. You want to die as soon as you put it on, and once you see him standing there without it on. He's even more toned than you realize. He's wearing a grey athletic shirt that hugs his broad shoulders just right, his defined chest and ab muscles tapering off into a narrow waist. His hoodie is still warm and smells intoxicating. You feel your hormones going crazy when you bring the collar of the hoodie to your mouth and nose, shamelessly getting drunk on the scent he left behind...

You do a mini sprint to catch up to him as he's already making his way towards the restaurant.

Miguel looks at you from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. He adores the way his oversized clothes drown you. The hoodie is big enough to be a dress on you. He imagines this would be how you two would look together getting a bite to eat, only after making you scream his name 30 minutes before....

You and Miguel enter the Taco Bell and he gives an awkward grin as he holds the door open for you.

"Why don't you sit down or use the restroom if you need, let me order for you," Miguel says.

Your heart melts, but you decide you better seem modest with your order.

"Umm just a gordita crunch, small Baja blast, and a 2 pack of Cinnabon delights please."

Miguel smiles. "You got it." Suddenly, he feels close to you. You trusting him to order food for you and take you home after a rough night out while letting you wear his clothes.

While you go into the bathroom, he approaches the counter.

"Hello, I need two gordita crunches, a large Baja Blast, and a 12 pack of Cinnabon delights, please" He takes out his card and pays for the food without a second thought.

Meanwhile, you come out of the bathroom after cleaning up a bit, still wrapped in his warm hug of a hoodie and wait near the door. Miguel strolls over with your food and grins at you.

"Are you ready to go?" You nod and grin back and you two make your way back to his car. Suddenly, you realize.

"Do you have Venmo? Let me know how much I owe you."

"Absolutely not." Miguel answers firmly. "Here, why don't you sit up front this time?" He opens the passenger door for you. You beam at him.

Is this real? Is this guy really doing all this for me and I just met him? You've never had a man treat you this well. Not even your last relationship could be bothered to hold a door open for you or pull out a chair. You get in and Miguel hands you your bag of food, the delicious aroma making your stomach growl. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion when you realize there's a lot more food in the bag than you told him to order originally. Miguel gets in the car and starts to drive again.

"Did, did you order extra food for me?" You laugh as you turn to him. Miguel gives you a small half smile but says nothing. You take a bite of the gordita crunch and let out a loud, "Mmmmmmm!" Just what you've been craving all night.

"Thank you, thank you so much you have no idea..." Your sentence tapers off as you stuff one of the piping hot Cinnabons into your mouth.

"You're very welcome." Miguel answers as you arrive at another red light. You realize Miguel didn't get himself anything.

"Do you want a Cinnabon bite?" You hold the box and give it a little shake.

Miguel offers a polite smile. "No thanks, those are all for you."

"Whaat, you can't turn down one of these. Have you even had these before?" You say playfully.

He chuckles at your playful tone. "I haven't, actually. But I trust your judgement."

"Come onnn...it's the LEAST I can do after everything you've done for me tonight. You're seriously gonna make me feel SO bad if you don't take at LEAST one." You give the box a couple shakes as if it's going to entice him more.

Miguel sighs. "Alright, you got me. I'll try one."

You smile wide as he takes one of the Cinnabon bites from the box you're holding in an outstretched hand. Your smile almost breaks your face as you see his reaction to his first bite.

"Jesus.." he mutters as his brows furrow in disbelief. He looks down at the remaining bite in his fingers as though he can't comprehend its existence. "That's spectacular, actually."

"Have another one!" You beam.

"Don't mind if I do." Miguel pops another one in his mouth and he brakes again at another red light.

He glances over at you and notices a little bit of taco sauce on the corner of your lip. "You got something..."

Suddenly, your heart stops as he raises his hand to your face, cupping your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, while his middle finger cradles your chin. His lips part in concentration as he gently presses his thumb against the corner of your mouth, retrieving the smudge of taco sauce. Your mouth falls open a little bit too. He gives you a little smile as he brings his thumb to his own mouth, cleaning the sauce from his finger.

That might have been the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. At this point, all you want to do is grab his face and make out with it. Traffic be damned, your runny mascara be damned, your deflated hair be damned, you don't care anymore about any of that. He could ask you to do anything and you'd give it to him without hesitation.

Miguel is thinking the same thing. He did that on purpose. If it wasn't anymore obvious he wanted you right now then he wasn't sure what was. His gaze falls back to your lips. He suddenly realizes you've begun to lean in closer to him. Your noses are inches away from each other. God, he wanted you. To lick passionately into your mouth with his tongue. Being able to hold you and grip your ass as though he was a starved man who couldn't get closer to you even if he tried. Watching your brow furrow with pleasure, hearing your voice and watching your breath fog his windows and the heat rising in his body knowing he was the cause...

Reality busts in like the Kool-Aid man.

She was drinking tonight. You just met her. She's your passenger. Technically, you're still working right now...No, it's not right...

Miguel pulls away suddenly, and, as if the universe has his back, the traffic light turns green and he presses the gas, driving once more. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to pound again.

Doesn't he like me? What happened....? What did I do....? Did I misread the signs? I wanna hide in my room for the rest of my fucking life now.

You clear your throat and take a long sip of Baja Blast. The uncomfortable silence and tension becomes a thick fog. You recognize your apartment building coming into view and your heart sinks.

"Home sweet home..." Miguel pulls into the parking lot. "Is here a good place to drop you off?"

"Yeah..." You try to make your tone sound like it's back to business. Miguel nods and grips the steering wheel with both fists in the 12 o' clock position as he watches you gather your things.

Ask for her number, you fucking pussy... Truth is, when it came to matters of the heart, Miguel's heart was glass.

"Thank you for the ride and the food, and, and just everything..." you step out of his car, defeated. You really didn't want to be the one to make the first move. If he really wanted to he would...

Miguel looks back at you with a neutral expression.

"Of course. You have a safe night, now." He starts to pull away.

"Miguel!" You realize you're still wearing his hoodie and you go to take it off.

He looks at you through the rolled down window, still driving away and shoots you a gorgeous smile and shakes his head at you in refusal, giving you one last wink that nearly knocks you over.

You sigh with frustration and watch his car disappear into the night, trying to memorize his license plate but your brain is hazy and the numbers on it escape your mind as soon as they enter. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you might be able to contact him through the Uber app...

No no, you let him talk to you first. Did your last situationship teach you nothing, you dumb hoe?! Don't be that desperate girl...

You wrap the droopy arms of his hoodie around yourself as you walk up the stairs and take a deep sniff...burying yourself in his scent so you never ever forget it. Even if he didn't want to spend the night holding you, you could go to bed with a huge smile on your face knowing you walked away with a piece of his clothing, the essence of what he left behind wrapped around your body all night long. An intangible connection that bound you two together...

Miguel sighed as he drove away. He just didn't have the bravery tonight. He didn't want to come across as creepy. The reality is, you were a slightly intoxicated stranger, a vulnerable woman younger than him, and he didn't want to abuse his power over you in that way. He looked at the empty passenger seat next to him and laid one of his hands on it, feeling the warmth you left behind. Trying to remember the way your thighs pillowed on it...the way your soft lips opened in shock when he wiped the sauce from your mouth, the small line of saliva from you that he caught on his thumb and licked into his own mouth..

He inhaled deeply, his jaw tensing and speed on the road increasing as he felt his body getting hot... He tried to lock your perfume in his nose for as long as he could, imagining himself inhaling it directly from your soft neck... holding onto the remainder of your presence, just...just until he could get home and relieve himself of his dire wants...

You, the perfect stranger who found herself in the passenger seat of his car tonight, and unknowingly wound up in the back of his mind for good...

-----

Hope you liked it! Thank you SO much for reading. ❤️ Part 2 is coming soon!

Pt 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #tension #fem reader #Spotify

466 notes · View notes

imshymorph · 2 months

Text

Here’s soft!price, i’m sure you missed him or at least i did. Of course as soon as i say i’ll write and post about ghost i get ideas for everyone and their mother and write those instead.

I believe that sometimes, when John is away for a mission and struggles to fall asleep, he thinks back to moments in your relationship.

Like now, it had been at least an hour since he had left the rec room where the rest of the task force had been chatting after supper. He had gotten ready for bed and finally found a comfortable position. And yet here he was, still awake despite how tired he really felt.

And just like any other time he had the chance to, he let himself think of you. First he was thinking about how you'd probably be knocked out by now, for sure falling asleep while the two of you watched a movie on the couch and cuddled.

- - - - -

How he'd pause it so you wouldn't miss anything, pick you up carefully to not wake you and carry you to bed. Hold you close and pull the covers around you both before pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a soft "i love you".

A little amused smile appeared on his lips when those three little words made him jump onto a different memory. One that you referred to as "the unofficial first i love you".

It had started when John received a call from the hospital, not giving the nurse the chance to say more than your name and at what desk he should ask to see you before he was fleeing base and coming to you (even if at that time you hadn’t been together for that long).

To this day you defend how overly dramatic he was, sure you had been in the ER, but it had been "just" because of a minor concussion. You had wanted to snack on some chocolate covered almonds while watching your show, but when you went to get them you had realised the little container had been pushed to the farthest part of the cupboard. Even in your tiptoes, your fingers only grazed the container, not getting enough of a grip to pull it forward.

Determined to have your snack you had gotten a step stool (which John had been happy to hear because he had worked really hard on getting rid of your dumb habit of climbing on the counter). What you hadn’t noticed was that the damned kitchen faucet had been leaking again. So when you got on it and leaned forward, the stool slid back, the movement making you bend forward and smack your head on the cupboard’s edge. After feeling dizzy you had called for a cab and gotten to the ER. And there you were, waiting for him to pick you up.

He had gotten leave for the first few days and kept to deskwork for a couple weeks after to make sure he was available were anything else to happen. He was glad he had done so, as the first week had mainly been you on bedrest with a killer headache, feeling dizzy nearly every time you sat up, almost nauseated whenever you had to walk to the bathroom.

He now was able to admit to himself without guilt that, despite how much he hated the circumstances (the faucet didn’t have the chance to be leaky again from then until you moved in together to the house you now share. And your step stools have grippy stickers on the feet) he loved the perfect excuse it gave him to baby you and hold you all day. Which had led to the memory that made him smile every time.

“John, I'm bored… Talk to me about something.” You murmured, your head resting on the crook of his neck to shield your eyes from the light that managed to filter through the curtains. “Anything, really.”

“Hmm, let me think.” He murmured, his gruff and low voice surprisingly being of help with your headache, giving you something to focus on instead of the pain. “I actually thought about this last week… You haven’t been to France, have you? Maybe when you recover we could plan a weekend trip to Paris.”

He couldn’t help but smile when he heard you chuckle, although it withered a bit when a small pained whimper followed, the pair flaring at the effort. “I’m okay.” You reassured almost instantly, “I just hadn’t expected the topic to be France.”

A low chuckle left him as well, “well, you said I could talk about anything, love.” He justified it with a small self-pleased smile before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Need me to bring anything to help with the pain?”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured softly, adjusting a bit in his arms. “Don’t change topics now, you were promising to take me on a trip.” you say lightheartedly, earning a small laugh from him. “I’m making a big effort here to recover, I better get something good after.”

He chuckled again, one hand moving to rub your back, making you smile against his neck. “Making the effort for me or for the trip, doll?” He teased, but he froze when your answer came, his heart beating faster than he could admit and the warmth on his cheeks luckily hidden by his beard.

“For you, of course.” It had been so simple, and yet he had to stare at the ceiling for a full minute to recover from it, feeling like his heart could jump out of his chest at any moment. And before he could realise, he had gently held your chin and pulled back a bit to look you in the eye.

“I hope you don’t tease me for the rest of our lives for saying this now, but… I love you, I love you so much.” His words had left in a soft murmur, his eyes matching your widening ones as you both processed the moment.

A small shaky breath left you and despite your prominent headache you lunged forward, pressing your lips to his in what he still considered one of the best kisses he had ever received (the list was pretty long but all of them classified after the one on your wedding). “I love you too.” you had said softly as you pulled back, just to immediately slap his shoulder. “But why tell me now, you twat. I’m stuck in bed, we can’t do anything cute like a date night.”

It had caused him to chuckle then and it did now as he adjusted his pillow and pulled the covers a little higher. The official version according to you was a month later, when you both had snuck away for a weekend to the Paris trip he had promised. You had planned an incredibly cliché day out but pretty much none of it had worked out when a storm had drenched the whole city. Somehow you had found yourself taking cover in a quaint and cosy jazz club where you had spent all night chatting away in a small booth.

He could still remember the adoring look in your eyes when he had turned back to you after ordering new drinks for you both. And when you had leaned in and said those three little words, he had known he had been right to say it a month before. His heart soaring and his whole body thrumming in delight when he whispered it back before kissing you.

With a soft smile and a quiet murmur of I love you, John passed his thumb over the wedding band that hung around his neck along with his dog tags before finally falling asleep.

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #captain price cod #captain john price #cod mw2 #captain price mw2 #captain price x reader #john price x reader #soft!price

358 notes · View notes

hikarry · 4 months

Text

Aziraphale and Crowley plan a vacation free of miracles, just for the heck of it. Just to do it the way humans do. Maybe it's fun! Maybe they will have a grand old time! Who knows?

It all starts with packing.

Aziraphale is the very first to regret this idea as soon as he opens his bag on top of the bed, ready to pack. They can only take so many bags because they are going on the Bentley, and no miracles means no calling books through space with a single snap of his fingers. So...one bag is not enough, surely.

"Oh, but it is, angel. Max one bag for clothes and one bag for books, nothing more."

"But Crowley, that's absurd! We'll be in Scotland for 2 weeks! Am I supposed to take, what? 5 books? And how am I supposed to choose?"

"This 'no miracles' trip was your idea. Now deal with it."

Aziraphale deals with it, but not without a lot of complaining and making a list of pros and cons of taking every single one of his favorite books. He ends up with a bag full of them and a couple more in the clothes bag.

This is to say that Crowley doesn't have an easier time. No miracles means no miracling his own clothes, so he's got to actually pack something. And he likes most of his clothes. And you never know what type of events will be around. A restaurant? A play? He needs outfits. Good outfits. And a toothbrush. And shampoo and conditioner, cause he refuses to use the ones from the hotel. And hair gel! Cause no miracles also means no miracling his hair into being in shape...doing his hair every morning will be an absolute pain in the arse, but he can endure it. Yet, when he goes to close his bag...it's too full. Taking two bags of clothes would be ridiculous, so he lays his hand on the bag and pushes down, trying to run the zipper. Nothing happens. He sighs and sits on the bag, pulling the zipper once again, and it runs for a couple of millimeters.

"Angel, give me a hand, will you?"

"With what, dear?"

"I'll sit on the bag and also push it down with my hands and you will try to close the zipper." He opens his legs so Aziraphale can access the bag's zipper and he jumps once on his bag, pushing down with his hands.

Aziraphale almost breaks the bloody zipper, but it does indeed close.

With the bags in the Bentley and both seated on their usual positions, Crowley lays his hands on the steering wheel, but doesnt start the car just yet, instead looking ahead.

"Everything alright?"

"...does 'no miracles' mean I can't keep the tank of the Bentley full?"

"I suppose."

"Aziraphale, I haven't gone to a gas station since I got the bloody James Bond stickers!"

"And when was that?"

"Many, many decades ago."

"Oh well, I'm sure getting fuel in a car isn't that difficult. It mustn't have changed since back then."

"Are you sure we can't make an exception?"

"Quite."

"...is this because of the books?"

"Mmh."

Crowley groans and goes to start the car, but he stops short of the ignition.

"Are you...keeping the Bentley whole with miracles? Is that the new problem, my dear?"

"No." He looks up at the angel. "I have to buy a phone charger."

"Whatever for?"

"Because I keep my phone charged with miracles, angel! And I have absolutely zero idea where the original charger is! I never used it! With a bit of luck its still somewhere in Mayfair."

"Oh well, we will stop at a phone shop then. Easy fix."

The demon takes a deep breath, and off they go, on their road trip to Scotland at very not legal speeds - not for lack of complaining on the angel's side, mind you.

When they get to Edinburgh, they quickly find their hotel and go up to their room. Both take showers and, hell, it's still mid afternoon, so they go for a stroll around.

At about dinner time, Crowley quickly googles restaurants nearby and finds one named "Angels with Bagpipes". As soon as he sees it, he stops scrolling. It's somewhat modern and certainly different from the Ritz, but, Satan, look at that name! They just couldn't not go.

"You're joking, certainly." Aziraphale looks over his shoulder. "Look at that other one! Rhubarb. It looks so much more-"

"Posh?"

The angel eyes him side ways.

"I was going to say classy. Romantic."

Crowley snorts.

"Oh this is a romantic vacation, is it?"

"No!" He slaps his arm. "I mean-! Yes! Just-" He runs a hand down his face while Crowley keeps laughing. "Oh, hush. I'm just saying that one looks way more up our alley. That one is too modern."

"I'm down with modern. Big fan of modern, me."

"Oh, believe me, my dear, I'm extremely aware, but-"

"And! For a restaurant as posh as that I bet we need reservations. And you know what we don't have?" Crowley wiggles his fingers. "Reservations. Or miracles to get said reservations."

Aziraphale rolls his eyes, trying to suppress an exasperated sigh. Crowley was ridiculous. How in all the heavens did he put up with him through all these years will forever be a mystery.

"Alright. Let's go to the other one."

Crowley smiles, victorious, and offers him his arm, which Aziraphale promptly takes.

"An angel and a demon walk into a restaurant named 'Angels with Bagpipes'-"

"Crowley!"

And off they go, down the streets of Edinburgh. They have dinner and Aziraphale only complains until the food is served. Afterwards he appears quite content to stuff his face with appetizers and whatnot all while under the watchful eye of Crowley that keeps sipping his wine silently, one elbow on the table, while under said table his leg pushes against Aziraphale's.

"Do behave yourself, will you?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, angel." He uses his foot to slightly slide up Aziraphale's leg.

"We are in public."

"Your point?"

Aziraphale closes his legs, trapping Crowley's foot in between them.

"That's my point."

Crowley pouts, pulling his leg away.

"Boring, you are."

The meal proceeds with little to no incidents. Just the usual: Aziraphale utterly enjoying his food and Crowley watching him as he is enraptured by the flavors and its, honest to Satan, impossible to look away. Not to mention the satisfied wiggles. And the moans. It can pass 6000 more years, but Crowley will never ever get used to those.

"Angel."

"Yes, my dear?"

"Do you have money?" Aziraphale suddenly drops his fork and looks up at Crowley, mouth hanging open. "Thought so."

"Heavens, what are we going to do? We can surely miracle it, right? This is an emergency."

"Nop. You didn't let me miracle the fuel so no miracling the money either."

"You paid for the fuel."

"My last pounds, yes."

The angel's eyes widen quite comically.

"You must be joking."

"No. No joke. Last bills in my wallet." He sloshes the wine inside his glass, leaning closer towards Aziraphale. "And I bet this is all quite the price too. What do we do, Aziraphale? Leave by the back like criminals?"

"There's no back and we are not criminals! We need to miracle the money!"

"That's against the rules." He points at the angel, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses. "Your rules, might I add."

"No-! Crowley!" He also leans closer to the demon and whispers. "We need to do it. We are not criminals."

"I'm a demon. I guess I can be considered a criminal at some extent."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm playing by the rules."

"You're insufferable."

"And yet you still love me."

Aziraphale sighs and closes his eyes, trying to think about a solution, when he hears footsteps approaching.

"Have you finished your dessert, sirs?" The waiter asks, stopping right in front of the table.

"We have." Crowley is quick to answer, and Aziraphale kicks him under the table. He was not done yet, and he needed more time to think about a solution!

"Are you ready to pay?"

Crowley looks at Aziraphale, very serious, and Aziraphale can feel the sweat accumulating on his hands. Oh lord, they had no money. And they just ate a 3 course meal. I mean, Aziraphale ate. Crowley mostly dabbled on the soup and spent the rest of the meal drinking. Drinking quite old and expensive red wine, at that.

Aziraphale looks at Crowley, then at the waiter - who is smiling very politely at them - and then back at the demon. Crowley raises his eyebrow again while Aziraphale starts to shake. He was about to pop when Crowley snorts and reaches for his wallet, pulling a black card and handing it to the waiter, who accepts it and walks away. Aziraphale gasps.

"You had money!"

"Technically no. I had a card."

"A card with money!"

"I never said I didn't have a card. I said I didn't have bills. Physical money. I did use my last bills at the station."

Aziraphale kicks him under the table again, and Crowley can't hold it anymore and starts laughing as controlled as he can.

"Oh, I hate you, you fiend!"

"You've been telling yourself that for 6000 years and you're yet to believe it." The waiter returns with the card and leaves just as fast. "Shall we go back?"

"Yes. But I won't forgive you for this."

"Ah, yes. You. The one that throws 'I forgive yous' through the wind."

"Crowley!"

"Joking. I'm joking." He gets up and Aziraphale follows him. When they get through the door, Crowley offers him his arm once again and leans in closer. A whisper just Aziraphale could hear. "I have my methods to make you forgive me. Just let us get to the hotel, angel."

Alas, the day was not ready to give them a break. On their way to the hotel, it suddenly started raining heavily, soaking both of them to the bone.

"I don't believe this!"

"A little miracle would come in handy right about now, eh?" Aziraphale sighs and snaps his fingers, summoning a tartan umbrella to his hand, which he promptly opens, covering both of them. "Angel!"

"Hush. We can start over tomorrow. Now, let's go." He grabs Crowley by the arm and starts pulling him.

"What's the rush? It's not like we can get sick."

"Someone promised me something when we got to our hotel room." The angel looks over his shoulder to the demon for a second, still walking up the street.

Crowley smiles.

"And you just have to run to find out whatever it is."

"Color me curious."

They did get to the hotel quite fast, and the first thing they did was peel away from their drenched clothes and jump in the shower. Whatever happened in there is between the angel, the demon, and the white tiles on the wall.

#once again supposed to be a small lil thing but got out of my hand #crowley just had to tease Aziraphale he wasnt having it any other way #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #anthony j crowley #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction

232 notes · View notes

simp-ly-writes · 6 months

Text

A Suit Filled Surprise

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x teacher!Reader

Summary: its been awhile since you had last seen your husband; thankfully your coworkers are there to help.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and a sprained wrist.

A/N: why do i love this man. WHY. feeling feral for graves rn.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

The kids were filling in their worksheet and continued to work on their printing as you continued to mark yesterday's grammar quiz; taking the time to place stickers and small motivational comments after each answer.

Pencils scrapped across paper in the background as the cheerful screams of other students on break coming through the floor level windows overpowered the small conversations happening between table-groups.

Checking in on the students you noticed as the curtains floated with the breeze. It was half-way to the summer break and the buzzing fan trying to combat the southern heat was struggling much like your sprained wrist. You smiled thoughtfully at the rows of desks while twirling your wedding band; thinking back to the card and chocolates they all bought you to get better soon.

Before you could make your way back to your desk to continue the mountain of papers and the ever-flowing flood of parental emails; your coworker Christina waved you over form your classroom joining door. Smiling and bringing your finger to your lips; she nodded and smiled widely herself before turning back around and explaining to her older grade that she would be back in a minute.

are you ready for parent-teacher night with your class? i could use some help with mine if you have time during your spare? Christina asked as she kept glancing towards your hall door. Yet just as you became growingly curious she held your arm and began to show you a list of planned material to prepare for over the summer. Nodding along while becoming a bit concerned over her obvious anxious figure.

You held her hand and opened your mouth; about to ask if you should look over her room so she could revive a much needed break early. Yet it would be the silence of your own classroom that overtook your concern for Christina; followed by a series of unanimous giggles that held your heel; about pivot to ask the class what was so funny.

You then felt Christina squeeze your hand before she asked your class to join hers; making sure she still held your full attention. Her eyes began to crinkle joyfully in a knowing look that had your anxiety reeling across your skin- turning pink.

As all the children joined the older class in the next room; Christina addressed the class while gripping on to your form, okay class! storytime together please- practicing their collaborative skill for their final report card. Looking at you once more than at the door; smiling widely she dropped your hand and walked back her room; closing the door behind herself.

Turning back to look at the now empty rows of desks; the children still played in the background as you made your way back to your desk. Shifting through the papers and submitting them on your records sheet you pen flew across the page. Marking a large red streak as you heard a throat clear.

Turning towards the door to glare at whomever decided, eyes going wide in seeing your husband, in a suit, leaned against the doorframe with flowers in his hand as you began to have flashbacks to prom all those years ago.

C'mon sweetheart is that anyway to greet your husband? Graves teased as you watched him stand upright and start to saunter up to your desk. Blinking in reaction; your body thought him to be an illusion; starting to shake; eyes becoming wet.

Baby, baby. He began to console you, kneeling beside your chair and taking your hands in his own as he began to rub small circles on the back side of your palms. You felt the cold matching ring against your skin as a smile began to form widely across your face matching his own.

Closing your eyes as you felt him cup your cheek and kiss the other; moving to your forehead next and then all the way down to your lips. Giggling at his scruff tickling your nose. You lightly grabbed the outlines of his suit jacket and pushed him away gently.

Large puppy dog eyes were all you had received in return. I missed you.

How about you show me how much? home is calling... he trailed off while glancing back at the door than back at you. He pulled your frame up lightly and then pulled you back into his lap. Starting to brush his nose against your neck, sighing softly; awaiting your response.

As you breathing and shakes still, you accidentally shift in his lap earning yourself groan, how could I ever say no to this suit?

I was debating between this and my field outfit; yet I figured I would become less of a scare with this... Laughing at your husbands commentary over a simple outfit, you felt yourself being lifted with a squeal escaping your lips and being carried out the door towards a black car. While exiting the building you saw Christina hold two thumbs up with a wink as you buried your face into his shoulder.

Placing you in the passengers seat he took off his coat jacket and threw it in the backseat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress-shirt to his forearms before leaning over and giving you a kiss. Igniting the engine, he placed a warm hand across your thigh.

Tracing the veins up his hands and arm; you saw his body shiver in response before moving his hand away and giving you a playful glare before moving his eyes back to the road. Let's just say that the drive home was a bit longer than usual...

178 notes · View notes

keiwook · 11 months

Text

WAYS ZB1 CARE FOR YOU

pairing zb1 x gn!reader

genre fluff

warnings mentions of food in gunwook and gyuvin’s

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

after a long and rough day at work, all you wanted to do was be in hao’s arms and rant about all the things that didn’t go as planned. zhanghao perked up from the comfy sofa at the sound of the door opening, putting his attention back on the tv after greeting you. “hao…” you frowned, dropping all your bags and trudged towards him.

zhanghao didn’t let your exhaustion go unnoticed and instantly opened his arms for you embrace. “tell me all about it.” after talking away your worries to zhanghao, he would offer to make you some tea.

“are you feeling a bit better now?”

— sung hanbin

hanbin had work to finish up as it was due the day after. he had been working on the report the whole day and at first, it didn’t bother you as you wanted to be an understanding partner for hanbin but that didn’t last very long.

“are you done yet?” you ask for the nth time, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend who was immersed in his writing “just a little bit more, dear.” sighing at the sentence you heard over a million times. seeing you wait for him made him feel sorry so he held your hand and occasionally squeezed it until he finished his report.

“i’ll be done soon, hold my hand in the meantime.”

— seok matthew

you had been stuck in your studies lately and matthew is concerned as you’ve been frequently stressed about homework and exams. so, to help put some weight off from your shoulders, he helped with chores and even cooked homemade meals for you.

“here, i made you some food. make sure you you don’t overwork yourself and i’ll be here if you need anything.” fondness was felt from his tone, making you glance up at him “thank you.. you didn’t have to. i’ll help with the dishes after i figure out how to do this question.”

“no worries, i can do them for you while you study.”

— shen ricky

ricky’s primary love language is giving gifts. he usually showers you with branded items and expensive food which you love, but whenever you want to give him something, it becomes overwhelming. ricky noticed this and told you that you didn’t have to give him anything but that added more to the burden.

today was your anniversary and while you were expecting a whole closet of designer clothes, you were handed a love letter instead. avoiding eye contact and ears flushed a bright red as if he was confessing to his crush, he waited for your reaction. you smiled at how cute the letter was, stickers and coloured pens covering the whole paper. “this is so cute! thank you!”

relieved, he continued “oh, i have more.”

— park gunwook

gunwook always helped you with everything. running errands? he helped you finish them. you were hungry? he bought you meals. you were feeling a bit lonely? he came to accompany you. your call was instantly picked up “hello? why are you calling me in the morning?” gunwook asked, sounding a bit worried as you never called him in the morning unless it was important “i’m sorry i cant come over later, i have a cold.” you replied, beeps indicating the call ended followed right after.

a few minutes later, gunwook arrived at your door with medicine and porridge. “here, eat this and then take the medicine.” he spoke, placing the items on your table. hands rushing to your forehead to feel your temperature. “gunwook, it’s just a cold.” he sighed, hands now placed on your shoulders.

“please take care of yourself just like how i take care of you.”

— kim taerae

taerae loved his guitar, maybe a bit more than he loved you but you loved his voice everytime he sang and the rhythms he played so you didn’t mind. some days, he would be playing his guitar all day and on others, he would be writing lyrics for a new song.

he shared to you all his songs for opinions and you loved listening to them, so he asked you for help again this time. he started by picking the strings, melodies forming and humming. his pleasant voice stuck in your head as he confessed his love to you through the song. “taerae, i think this might be your best one yet!”

“good, cause this one was for you.”

— kim gyuvin

gyuvin brings eumppappa for a walk everyday and you willingly tag along every time but for some reason you always feel like a third-wheel. all the sweet talks were for eumppappa and you just stood there, listening to gyuvin baby-talk his beloved dog.

while walking along the sidewalks, you saw an ice cream stand “gyuvin, look! let’s go get ice cream!” jumping excitedly at the thought of the sweet delicacy “eumppappa can’t eat ice cream, silly!” shaking his head as if he was thinking ‘i can’t believe you didn’t know that’. “not for eumppappa, for me!” you retort, hands now on your hips. gyuvin’s mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape, slowly realising what you meant.

“okay, fine but i get to pick the flavour.”

— kim jiwoong

jiwoong had always been a perfect boyfriend, always tending to your needs and wants. while he was practicing his script for an upcoming drama he was in, you were on his bed with your phone in your hands. to you, just having his presence was enough.

jiwoong wondered why it had gotten so quiet. no random gasps or squeals from you had been heard for quite a while now. he turned around to see you fast asleep, head laying down on the hard cover of the book. he stored the book away, pulling up the blanket to cover your body and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

“sweet dreams, my love.”

— han yujin

playing games with yujin was a regular thing between you two, he would always invite you to play minecraft with him (psst, your beds were right next to eachother!)

you logged onto your shared server, seeing that yujin was already online. you walked over to his character and crouched up and down. ‘go into vc!’ you typed out in chat and almost instantly, you heard ringing and picked up the call. “hi!” yujin chirped, excited to talk to you. “what are you doing?” you ask, looking at his character chop some wood. “i’m getting materials for the house!” he replied, finished chopping. you decided to help him and soon enough, it became night time and hostile mobs started to spawn.

“watch out! there’s a creeper!” yujin rushes, swiftly one-hitting the mob before it exploded “you’re welcome.” he said as his character turned around to enter the house before you said “yujin.” his avatar slowly facing yours. “yes?” he asked, waiting for you to say something “you make my heart go boom boom.”

“i wish that the creeper had exploded instead.”

332 notes · View notes

butmakeitgayblog · 3 months

Note

How about Easy A for Clexafication? I could see Clarke trying to help out a fellow gay by telling other kids in school that she slept with him. And then, thanks to her loud mouth friends, it gets out of hand with her trying to help out other guys and she gets labeled the school slut even though she’s never slept with anyone. At first Clarke leans into it and plays up the slut bit but soon realizes that it’s all too much. Her actual crush Lexa seems to be the only person who doesn’t believe the rumors. I see Lexa as the school mascot (the warriors) and she does the whole warrior getup with black eye makeup and riles up the crowd at pep rallies. Lexa also works at a local seafood restaurant where she dresses up like a pirate which is also a look that Clarke quite enjoys. Eventually the truth comes out and Clarke and Lexa become everyone’s favorite couple at school.

Ahoooo do I have a cavalcade of HCs for an Easy A au 👀.

First of all, they'd be childhood friends. The kind with weekly sleepovers and even a joint a 5th birthday party one year (despite their birthdays being 3-4 months apart, much to their parents dismay. But they insisted.) I'm talking the childhood friends who practiced witchcraft in each others backyards (potions of mud, cool lookin rocks, and leaves. Highly dangerous stuff), who learned to ride bikes together, who caught fireflies in glass jars together, who promised to grow up and get married to each other 'cuz boys are yucky' kind of friends.

And then middle school happened. And they both kinda went their separate ways.

Well.

More like Lexa grew into her own person. Doing things like joining the girls basketball team. And then volleyball. Even ruining their weekend plans with track and field practice one too many weekends in a row. She started branching out in her interests and making new friends, and left Clarke totally behind. Or so that's what Clarke has always thought (more on that later)

Cut to high school and they haven't spoken to each other in years. Not since about 3 weeks into 6th grade. There's no animosity or anything, it's just... They're strangers who occasionally wave and smile at each other in the school halls. Lexa way more often than Clarke ever does, but it's not like anybody's keeping a tally. Right? Because it doesn't matter because they don't know each other anymore. Clarke doesn't even really recognize Lexa as the same girl who used to wear matching Mutant Ninja Turtles pj shirts with her and stay up late staring at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on her bedroom ceiling while they talked for hours. Now Lexa is like, Ms. High School with all her Track and Field trophies and her badass Warriors mascot credentials (the pauldron, plastic sword, and warpaint coming across much more threatening than their old mascot, The Raccoons 😕 (tho there will always be something to be said for their freshman year when Lexa was forced to rally in the overstuffed costume while menacingly rubbing her lil raccoon-y painted hands together...)). That all has cemented her a seat at the Cool Kids Table.

Not to mention the fact that Lexa spent all of sophomore and junior year with her arm permanently attached to her (now ex) girlfriend's hip.

Not that Clarke ever cared. Or even noticed. So like, why did you even bring it up? ಠ_ಠ

Anyway.

So when her not-really friend but general acquaintance Monty asks her to... well, be his beard, Clarke agrees. In a way that, jesus fuckin hell, really got away from her faster than she ever anticipated. Because then Monty tells Jasper, and Jasper asks her to do the same, and before she even knows what the hell happened to this simple favor, everyone in school seems to believe that a painfully virgin Clarke is fucking the entire AV Club. And more.

It all spirals from there with the usual slut shaming and everything that goes along with society's hatred of women who have sex. It's only when her own best friend Raven/Wells (whichever, doesn't matter) turns on her - accusing her of being a slut and a liar and a terrible friend for not even telling them - that Clarke just says "haha Ok Fuck This" and goes all in.

Which. Whew. This is Clarke Griffin we're talking about. She's aware she's been blessed by puberty. So when she starts shaking her ass around school in tight jeans and corset tops, it has the exact effect she desires.

And then some.

More, in fact, than she had initially bargained for.

In the melee that follows of more guys bribing their way to be on the Griffin Bedpost Notches of Shame (and few a who missed the fucking memo that all of this is actually fake 😒), there is... Lexa.

Seemingly out of nowhere.

Where people had started parting in the hallways just to not touch her, Lexa seems to start showing up out of nowhere.

The smiles still come, and the friendly waves too. Nothing big. Nothing imposing, or like she wants something like everyone else. But then things like Lexa coming over to sit next Clarke during her break at the pep rally start happening (in her full Warriors getup to boot). Things like Lexa making little jokes to Clarke in passing. There's the moments when she asks Clarke if she's ok and offers her a ride after school, which Clarke always absently turns down. It's weird having Lexa back in her space again, but honestly, she's got too much on her plate to give it much thought. Because Lexa's just Lexa, and now Clarke's apparently the school slut, so... Their worlds are still very much divided.

Until eventually one night Clarke thinks she's actually going out on a date with a nice guy. I mean, she's known Finn since 10th grade. And he picks her up and opens the car door for her and everything. Like,,, this is most definitely a real date!

Except it's not, and he's a pervert asshole just like everyone tf else.

But thankfully, wouldn't ya know it, guess who happens to work at the very seafood/pirate themed restaurant that fuckboy Finn had decided on?

It's finally, FINALLY, in the quiet of Lexa's car when she parks them outside of Clarke's house that they actually talk. It starts with Clarke feeling like a fool for even thinking Finn could—... Not after everything. And Lexa of course does that thing she's taken to doing again. That calm, knowing, entirely too wise for her years kind of smile that Clarke still remembers from when they were kids.

Even in her ridiculous yet oddly attractive pirate's uniform (complete with a discarded eyepatch and clip on parrot) it's distractingly charming.

It's what has Clarke admitting that she doesn't know how she got into this mess. That she never meant to become this person. To which Lexa, in her infinite patience and wisdom, replies, "Clarke, you're still the same person you've always been. I know you. Nothing about you has changed."

Of course Clarke's dismissive answer to that is a smartassed, "Haven't you heard? I'm the school slut."

She can't help but smile at Lexa's laugh. "Actually, if I recall, you're the girl who once convinced me if I hung upside down by my feet from a tree, it'd help me grow taller."

"You can't say for sure that it didn't help," is Clarke's automatic response with a wave toward Lexa's general lanky, goddess-esque physique. Which earns her another laugh. Again, not that anyone's keeping a tally.

"True," is Lexa's response and, dammit, she's doing that all knowing smile-y grin thing again. "But you're also the girl who used to help me tie my shoes. And traded her pickles for my carrots. And taught me how to fold our secret notes so that nobody else could ever read them."

And, yeah, Clarke does remember that. Which in hindsight had been kind of stupid. It wasn't like they ever let their class time correspondence fall into the dastardly hands of anyone but each other, so the chances of interception were zilch making the whole exercise rather moot. But at the time it'd felt... important. Because what'd they'd had was only ever meant for just them.

What the hell even happened to those girls?

"You stopped answering my calls," is Lexa's simple reply. It doesn't even seem to hold any blame. "It was like... one day you just cut me out."

Which was not what had happened?

Was it?

Except, as Lexa gently explains that while, yes, she did start getting into sports, she still always tried to make time for Clarke. She did call and leave messages that kept going unanswered. Sent texts that more often than not were left on read. She'd ask Clarke to go to her games and track meets, sometimes would call her just to come out to eat with her and her teammates. But Clarke had always given her a disinterested promise for a million next times that never actually came.

Eventually Lexa just stopped trying because Clarke made it clear that she didn't like who Lexa was anymore. And it stings ten times worse because Lexa's doesn't sound angry or blaming. Just a little hurt. Maybe still a little sad even after all these years.

It's just one more thing to feel absolutely awful about. Like, she really is the universe's biggest asshole. She has no idea what to do with this revelation of her own failures, or the soft way Lexa keeps looking at her.

After that night things both change, yet stay completely the same. Because after that night when she'd apologized to Lexa and said she regreted doing what she'd done - that 6th grade her was an idiot. 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th grade her as well 🤧 - she was still the "school slut" and a social pariah, but she had her best friend back at least.

Her best friend who smiled her every time they passed in the hallway and sometimes walked her to class. Her best friend who now ate lunch with her and texted her on the weekends and would laugh at every single one of her jokes (fINE we're keeping a fucking a tally).

Her best friend, who when Clarke mentions is the only perso who talks to her without looking at her corset wrapped breasts, nonchalantly corrects, "Oh I look. Just... Respectfully."

It's hard to return the decency of that favor when Lexa walks away after leaning into Clarke's ear and whispering, "You know I prefer Ninja Turtles pjs anyway."

Clarke eventually comes clean about the whole fiasco, too the shock of everyone. Everyone, that is, except Lexa. Because Lexa kind of knew. Because, as Lexa says in all her glorious Warrior gear, when she kisses Clarke in front of the entire school at the end of the football team's pep rally—

"I told you, Clarke. I know you."

#anon #clexa #clarke griffin #lexa kom trikru #Easy A au

137 notes · View notes

lllivia · 1 year

Text

Birthday Girl

Jenna ortega x fem!reader

Can be read as gn!reader too

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°★.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

You had been looking forward for this for weeks, you hadn't been able to visit Jenna in a few months and it felt like hell for both of you, so being able to surprise her with your presence on her birthday was so exciting. Everything was planned already, Jenna was going to celebrate her birthday that night, and you had called early and said you couldn't make it because of a family emergency.

Now you were just waiting for your cue to come in, standing outside her door with Jenna's present in your arms. Emma was going to text you when it was the perfect moment, and you could burst in.

You had been waiting for like ten minutes now, and you were starting to get a little cold, but just then you got the notification that it was all ready. You smiled slightly at the text before pulling the door knob and walking in, immediately seeing Jenna's astonished face looking up from the cake after blowing out the candles, it took her a few seconds to register what was happening before she looked like she was going to burst into tears of happiness.

You put your gift down on the table in front of you just as she jumped into your arms, delivering a bone crushing hug, whispering in your ear about how much she missed you. Everyone at the party awed at the sight of the couple, and after a few more seconds Jenna pulled away looking slightly shy. "Sorry for ambushing you like that" she giggled. "We haven't seen each other in three months, I'm kinda disappointed it wasn't more iykwim" you joked wiggling your eyebrows, Jenna responding by giving you a "we're in public" look and laughing before slapping your arm lightly.

"Now are you going to open my gift or not?" You said with a raised eyebrow and a smile looking down at the present laying next to her. "You didn't have to give me something yk, you being here is a present in itself" Jenna said with love in her arms and smiled before picking up the present from the table, starting to unwrap it. After a couple of sends she gasped once again looking like she was going to cry. You had given her an album, the front filled with lots of cute stickers and the writing

"I love you"

on.

She eagerly opened the album to see tons of pictures of you together, from hiking in the mountains on a vacation to a cute photo booth session in town, lots of pages empty as well. She looked up at you with an expression that was so intense and passionate you could pass away. "I was thinking we could fill in this together, I hope you like it" you said hoping it was an alright gift. "Are you kidding me?? Of course I LOVE it, I love anything coming from you" Jenna replied getting up on her toes to peck your lips repeatedly. "And my birthday wish came true as soon as you walked in that door" she smiled brushing her thumb over your cheek making you blush.

"Hey! Are we going to eat this cake or not?"

💗 Masterlist 💗

452 notes · View notes

kydrogendragon · 4 months

Text

Forehead Kisses

Requested by @introvertbibliophile!! This was a cute and wholesome one to write, so we'll end our day of Birthday Prompts with this!! Thank you and thank everyone for all the requests! It was fun to have something like this to work on and I can't wait to see how y'all enjoy them!

Relationship: Hob/Dream Words: 2233 Warnings: None Ao3 Link

The room inside was dark. The curtains were pulled over the windows, blocking out the sunlight. The only light within was from the bright screen of Morpheus's laptop. Hob leaned against the door frame, watching his husband kill his back from his gremlin seating posture. His legs are tucked underneath himself, his spine curved in a way he knows the chiropractor would have a hernia over. He glared down at the word document in front of him, his hand swiping across the keyboard in such speed that it hurt Hob's fingers just to look at.

He stood there, listening to the furious clacking of keys for a moment before making his way over to the desk. His sock-clad feet were silent over the hardwood floors as he approached. Morpheus hasn't even so much as twitched by the time Hob was standing just off to his side.

He wasn't surprised. Morpheus had a tendency to get invested in his work. When he was truly in the zone, he describe it and everything else fading away. He couldn't hear or see anything beyond the words on the page and the story unraveling in his head.

Hob turned, looking over at the once clean desk that housed Morpheus's work. He claimed that for planning, having physical papers to move and manipulate were better. It made the area much more cluttered, however. Beside stacks of papers, sticky notes, and sketches, dishes and mugs were scattered within. Hob shook his head gently and grabbed the dirty dishes, leaving the coffee cup from this morning (he still doesn't understand how his husband can tolerate cold coffee) and the water bottle covered in stickers from their travels.

It was only when Hob stretched his arm across the screen of his laptop to fetch the remaining glass that Morpheus finally looked up from his work. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dark environment. "Hello, Hob," he says, that gentle smile on his face as he leans his head into Hob's soft belly.

Hob chuckles and leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Morpheus's inky black hair. "Hullo, Love. Just grabbing dishes, don't mind me." He shuffles the glasses and dishes in his hold to make room for the extra mug. "Dinner's on. Should be ready in an hour. Sound good?"

Morpheus hums, pressing his nose into the soft cashmere sweater. "Sounds excellent. What are we having?" His voice is rough from disuse. Hob's not sure when he last heard his husband speak save early this morning. He had barely left his room today. The first draft of his next book was due soon and his husband, ever the perfectionist, was determined to get it right.

"Beef stroganoff and carrots. Figured that'd be a safe choice for you."

"It is. Thank you, husband mine. I will see you in the hour." Hob chuckles as Morpheus leans back into his usual writing position.

"Can't convince you to take a break early and join me in the kitchen in the meantime?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

To Morpheus's credit, his hands twitch and don't immediately start tapping again.

"I-" His husband starts, his eyes flickering between the screen and Hob's face. "Perhaps, once i finish this chapter, I could join you early. But..."

Hob waves away his concern with a smile. "Don't even sweat it, my love. Just focus on your writing. I'll see you for dinner." He presses one final kiss to the top of his head before heading out of his husband's office, closing the door behind him.

It's only after dinner has finished cooking and the tiny colony of dishes and mugs are cleaned (some soaking from the multiple day old coffee) that Hob knocks on the office door once more.

Morpheus hasn't moved in the hour, though the laptop has been tilted to the side and one of his notebooks rests off to the right. Clearly, he'd either been referencing something or he'd been adding to his never ending collection of notes. Hob walks up and rests his palms over each of Morpheus's shoulders and presses in. He kneads into the tense muscle and bony shoulders causing his husband to moan, his hands freezing in place. Hob chuckles to himself as he leans forward to press a kiss to his temple.

"Hey Dove, dinner's ready." He mumbles against the silk soft skin just below his hairline. Morpheus hums, leaning into his touch. His hands fall from the keyboard and into his lap. Hob smiles against his skin and continues his gentle massage, thumbs swiping up and down the back of his neck. His husband groans, pushing back against his touch. He'll have to set this man down for a proper massage soon. Maybe after dinner. He was far too tense after such long sprints of writing this last week.

They stay there, relaxing in the moment, when Hob sighs and gives Morpheus's shoulder a final pat. "Come on, let's get some food in you, yeah?"

With a resigned, Morpheus leans forward and slides out of his seat. Even from here, Hob can hear the cracking and creaking of his bones. Yup, definitely doing a massage after dinner. Maybe a nice hot bath too, if he can pull Morpheus away from work long enough.

Hob holds out his hand which his husband takes eagerly. With a smile, he leads the pair of them out of the dark office and into the comfortably dimmed dining room. He's learned over the years that when Morpheus goes through spurts like this and he's spend too long being a cave creature in his dungeon, the soft light is acceptable. Morpheus takes a seat and Hob leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead, then nose and cheeks which earns him a nose scrunch that he loves so much, and finally to his lips. Morpheus hums against him.

"Thank you for dinner, husband mine," Morpheus whispered against.

"Always, love."

Hob takes his seat and gazes lovingly over his water glass at the man he has the privilege of calling his.

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #ky writes #Kydrogen's Birthday Prompts

79 notes · View notes

444rockstargf · 8 months

Note

Heyy can you do some head cannons about any one of the characters (preferably Marcus or euronymous but it doesn’t rlly matter what ever you want😭) where the reader is pregnant? If you’re not comfortable with that it’s fine❤️ also I love all of your posts🙌🏼

thank you so much <3 and since these are hcs, ill do both :))

"to carry a child." | marcus & euronymous

fingertips. - lana del rey

female!reader x euronymous + marcus

contents: pregnant reader, mentions of sex

euronymous.

he'd wake up to the noise of your throwing up in the toilet rlly early in the morning

and this would happen for a few days, but he wouldn't think anything of it

until you walked into the bedroom crying one day, holding something in your hand

you handed him a pregnancy test and waited for his reaction

his eyes widened when it read positive

he'd always considered what would happen if he got a girl pregnant, and now it was happening

he would be a little freaked out at first

his lifestyle doesnt exactly support him creating a family of his own

but then he would look into your tear-filled eyes and feel his heart calm down a little

you'd tell him that you wanted to keep the child, and that flipped his entire world around

he wondered if he was even fit to be a father

but he'd be willing to try, just for you

throughout your entire pregnancy, he'd buy you everything you wanted and be extra loving toward you at all times

something tells me that he would want to take charge when it comes to naming the baby

he pretty much sets his entire life aside to make sure that you're alright

he couldn't bear to imagine anything happening to you or his child

he'd try to get as many customers in his shop as possible to earn enough money to support your new family

and when you finally had the child, he'd be all teary eyes in the hospital

the moment when he held his baby for the first time, he would feel real joy for the first time.

marcus.

you'd been living with him for a while after your "one night stand."

he liked having you around helping out with stuff

and he was planning on making things official with you very soon

getting pregnant with him would be a little more intentional though

he'd ask you before you had sex if you were ready, and would only continue after he got your approval

he'd buy you a few pregnancy tests the next morning

and surely enough, one week later it was confirmed that you were pregnant

he knew that you were the perfect girl to start a family with, so he was completely ready to commit to you for the rest of his life

however, he didn't realize at first that he'd have to change his lifestyle a little

he couldn't be out partying late at night anymore, or come home wasted like he usually did

he had to take care of you 24/7 to make sure that you were alright

it was a large sacrifice to make

but after he fully thought about how much he wanted to start a family, he was motivated to make that commitment

he'd buy a new house that was appropriate for a family setting

and you can be sure that he'd go wild when decorating the baby's room with toys, stickers on the walls, etc

when you went into labour, he was a worried and shaky mess

he couldnt eat, sleep or do anything else that required little to no effort

he just needed to know that you and his child were ok

when he laid his eyes on his child, he completely broke down

he held it tenderly in his arms as tears rolled down his cheeks

he'd take you home and put you to sleep

but he'd sit on the couch, holding his baby and picturing his new life with you and his child in it.

author's note: this was supposed to come out last week, but i just found it rotting in my drafts today :(( im so so sorry abt that, but lots of posts are coming out today :))

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #euronymous #lords of chaos #swarm 2023 #swarm #i ❤ rory culkin #lana del rey #444rockstargf

113 notes · View notes

piratefalls · 6 months

Text

first list here.

round two i guess. i finally read 30 pages of a real physical book last night. progress? possibly. it felt right that while working on this "nothing's gonna stop us now" started playing. thinking about making this a wednesday thing. still trying to do a mix of new and old fics, even though it's all new to me. and much like alex claremont-diaz, this has been a mouthful. if you want me to tag you in any lists going forward, let me know!

Will You Brie Mine? by chamel

Today, as Henry tells him all about the Manchego, Alex tries his best to listen and not fixate on the mole next to the corner of Henry’s mouth or the way his shoulders strain the seams of his white uniform shirt. It’s not a particularly easy task for him, in all honesty. “Would you care for a sample?” Henry asks, as if Alex has ever said no to him. “I’d love one,” Alex tells him instead of saying I’d like to sample you. (Or, Henry sells cheese and Alex is somehow his best customer. It's not really about the cheese.)

take me out and take me home by coffeecatsme

“Shh.” Alex presses a finger over Henry’s lips. Their corners twitch, as if Henry’s desperately fighting a smile. “This is our house, baby. We gotta make it our own." Soon after Ellen's election, Henry and Alex move into a brownstone in New York. This is a story of how they make it home.

i still love you more than i should say by tkstrand

It’s been three months since Alex started working for Bankston & Shrivastava Associates, and he’s starting to think that his tiny crush on his coworker may not actually be that small. NYU School of Law may have helped him pass the bar, but it certainly didn’t prepare him for everything that is Henry fucking Fox. What makes it worse, though, is that Alex can’t do a fucking thing about it. No matter how much banter they swap, how many times he makes Henry blush in a day, it doesn’t matter. Alex can’t do anything, because Henry already has a boyfriend. Or, where a slight miscommunication leads Alex to believe that David is Henry's boyfriend.

and that's the way i loved you by HypnosTheory

Alex sighs, tilting his head back and sinking low in his chair. “What if I scare him off? He’s got a pretty big thing about commitment-” “He eats the same thing for breakfast and he wears a ring with his own initials every day,” Nora says, lifting her head up just enough to glare at Alex. “He doesn’t have commitment issues, he’s just a slut. Tell him you want him to be your slut. For the love of all that is holy.” -- Alex accidentally fell hopelessly in love with his roommate and fuck buddy Henry. He tries to plan the perfect confession, but when have any of Alex’s plots worked perfectly?

Baby, You're Gonna Lose Your Own Game by affectionatelyrs

Alex thinks he understands why people get stupid, impulsive tattoos like their ex’s name now if the sudden urge to etch the word darling onto his hip in permanent ink is anything to go by. So, yeah, Alex supposes. Henry may still be maddening, but his mouth? His voice? Maybe it was always hot, actually, and the irritation he previously felt was just thinly veiled complete and utter attraction. That would check out. Hate has always been a multifaceted word, after all. - Or, Alex decides that he wants to fuck the British out of Henry while watching him speak at a gala

flatline by rizcriz

Alex gets the call at 7:57am. It’s from an unknown number, so he answers it with an accent on his tongue and laughter in his throat, ready to troll the scammer for all they’re worth. But the voice on the other side of the line is serious, solemn, when she asks, “Is this, I apologize, all I’ve been given are initials, AGCD?” He frowns, turning away from the coffee shop he’d been about to enter. “Who’s asking?” There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end. “There’s been an incident. On the individual's phone, there’s a sticker. It says, if found, return to AGCD, alongside this phone number. Does it sound familiar?” Alex freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. “What kind of incident?” -- Or, Henry's been in an accident.

craigslist cutie (please don't go) by matherine

Here’s the thing. Alex is simultaneously very, very smart and very, very stupid. Nora calls it the Claremont-Diaz Paradox, and every time she does, June sticks out her tongue like she’s about twelve years old, and then Nora makes a comment about what she would rather June be doing with her tongue, and – okay. Off track. Not relevant to Alex’s current predicament, which is perhaps the most damning example of the Claremont-Diaz Paradox. Alex got himself into NYU Law with flying colors and LSAT scores in the 99th percentile, worked his ass off for three years, and graduated with honors and a crippling caffeine addiction. And then, because he is an idiot, he decided to take his JD, his potential, and his mountain of student loans to his brand-new job as a public defender. Unfortunately, being a public defender pays about as much as working at a Hot Topic. Which means that Alex really needs a roommate. Like, pronto. STAT. ASAP. He’s not sure who’s desperate enough to move into the other room in his beautiful, probably-not-bedbug-infested 700 square feet of Hell’s Kitchen, but he really fucking needs to find somebody. Craigslist is a last resort, but it does bring him Henry.

Professional Rivalry by clottedcreamfudge

"Decided to take the afternoon off to bump into pedestrians?" Alex asks as he gets to his feet, brushing off his chinos and pushing his glasses back onto his face where they've started to slide down his nose. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere writing about men in passionate embraces?" Henry regards him coolly over the armful of papers he's managed to retain complete control of, somehow, and Alex notices vaguely that he's got a smudge of ink just below his jaw. "Shouldn't you be taking a 1L lecture in," Henry pauses, looking at his watch, "less than five minutes?" "Fuck," Alex says again. "Fucking shit." Then he turns around and leaves Henry to bump into more people, probably, since that seems to be his only fucking agenda for the day. *** Professor Alex Claremont-Diaz despises Professor Henry Fox, so naturally they get roomed together at a conference. Alex is fine.

take a step, step again by iphigenias

This is not the first time. The first time, Alex left for class early, left Henry in their bed in Brooklyn with a kiss pressed to the exposed skin behind his ear. He didn’t hear from Henry all day. When he got home that night, Henry wasn’t in the kitchen, or on the sofa watching Bake Off, and he didn’t answer when Alex called. He was still lying in bed, and flinched, when Alex reached out to touch him.

mess me up (no one does it better) by extasiswings

Sometimes, Alex gets stuck in his own head. And for twenty-two years he doesn’t think there’s anything to be done other than to just go with it, ride out the frenetic energy until he’s fixed whatever needs fixing, or until the situation is over, whichever comes first. If he can just control everything, it’s fine. He likes being in control, he’s good at it, he’s fine. It’s just how things have always been. Until Henry.

five times henry's competency turned alex on and one time it turned him into a pile of romantic goo by helenblqckthorn

Alex has a fucking thing for competency. A competency kink, if he wants to be crude. And it just so happens that his boyfriend is one of the most competent men in England. Well, Alex, he thinks. You sure know how to pick ‘em.

Keep Most of Your Heart in London by cresswells

Alex thinks he’s prepared – as prepared as he’ll ever be. He’s been waiting for months to do this. He even did his research on the proper etiquette for a British royal engagement – and then promptly ignored it all. AKA: The one with the engagement of the century.

Red, White & Navy Blue by jedusaur

"Fine," says Alex. He clenches his jaw and his fists. "Great. Watch me. I'll bromance the shit out of the motherfucker."

how we rolled up the carpet (so we could dance) by adhoori

Henry shrugs off his suit jacket and tie, looking his usual annoyingly handsome self while Alex stifles a yawn in spite of the amount of caffeine in his system. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Henry says, looking all kinds of fond. Alex feels a little ridiculous in his tousled hair, glasses and the ratty NYU sweatshirt, but finds an answering warmth spreading through him anyway as he lets himself be kissed hello. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says, leaning back into the chair while Henry leans against the desk.

you and me, forevermore by bellamysgriffinprincess

"He pushes up on his toes to kiss Henry, who returns the kiss immediately, greedily, tongue brushing against his in a way that makes Alex's brain short circuit just as much as it did a year ago. A year ago. It still does something to him, stirs something deep inside him that makes his entire body feel like pure mush. It's a memory burned so bright in his mind - cold air, a buzz in his veins, a tree in a quiet garden, fingers gripping his face, soft lips against his. The night his world turned on its axis and shifted toward Henry, altering his path and forever tilting him closer." Or, Alex and Henry on New Year's Eve, one year after their first, and Alex wants it to be special.

All Booked Up by allmylovesatonce

A book tearing up the Bestseller’s List is quickly shoved into Alex’s hands via June and Nora. Despite his resistance, he’s taken in by the book and its whirlwind romance. When Nora insists they all go to a reading with the mysterious author, Alex is drawn in by H. G. Fox, hanging on his every word. When they meet after the signing, it sets him on a path he’d thought was impossible.

Are You Screwing With Me? by railmedaddy

Alex is only downloading Grindr because he’s curious. It doesn’t fucking mean anything, right? And when he answers a call for help from a very hot neighbour – who has no business having a shoulder-to-waist ratio like that – he’s just being friendly. It definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to discover things about himself that he’d assumed were just passing curiosity. Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

Yo Te Guiero A Ti by lucy_in_the_sky

“So,” Henry starts again, setting the now empty beer bottle down with a decided thud. “You want to bottom, but are having trouble fingering yourself and making it feel good?” He asks, voice deeper than usual. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Alex shrugs, still feeling half turned on and half mortified. “And you want my help with fingering yourself?” Henry asks, slightly incredulously. And fucking hell, that’s exactly what he wants, even though he technically only asked for Henry’s advice, not his help actually fingering him. “Would you help me?” Alex breathes out, the question barely a whisper.

We were staying in Paris by hollybibble

Henry wakes up with Alex for the first time in Paris. He's desperately in love but still managing to convince himself he is in control...until Alex calls him 'baby.' Cameo appearance by Henry's leather polo gloves.

Piping and Draping on a Saturday Night by cmere

Dear Alex, Please consider this email confirmation that I am available to help supervise students at the End of Semester Dance on Saturday, December 19th. Do let me know if there is anything I should prepare in advance. I look forward to working with you. Sincerely,Professor Henry Fox, Ph.DHistory Alex doesn't really understand why boring and pretentious Professor Henry Fox volunteers to help out at his students' events every semester, but he needs all the help he can get, so he's just gonna have to put up with him.

don't be surprised, baby (it's just me) by pissedofsandwich

Henry reflects on his relationship with touch over the years.

love dares you, to change our way of caring about ourselves by kapplebougher

Henry has read it all: fairy-tales of princes and their courters, unsung histories of kings and their secret lovers, and he has read all their happy endings. But he is not a prince in a fairy-tale, and he has always thought his own secret love story was likelier to end in tragedy. Perhaps it’s time that changed. (Or, Henry’s POV the morning after The Great Claremont-Diaz Ambush at Kensington Palace)

I'd Cross Oceans by 14hpgirl19

Dating a prince is hard. Dating a prince when you're the son of the President is even harder. Alex is done with barely seeing Henry. When Henry gets sick while in London, Alex decides to take matters into his own hands. (And if he ends up with a fiance at the end of it, even better.)

watch before it ends by indomitablelove

He should be working on this essay so he can spend more time with Henry this weekend. He really, really should be working on this essay. But. But. Henry is going live on Instagram. --- that's it, that's the fic.

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer

Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense. Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.

#rwrb #henry x alex #firstprince #first prince #fic rec #rec list #rwrb rec list #i am not as funny as i think i am i apologize

86 notes · View notes