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criminalamnesia · 2 days

Note

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

911 notes · View notes

dazednmatthews · 2 days

Text

casual~ c. sturniolo x reader

four times y/n was “okay” with “just casual” with chris, one time she told truth + one time he realized what he’d lost.

“my friends call me a loser

cause i’m still hanging around

i’ve heard so many rumors

that i’m just the girl that you bang on your couch”

“i just will never understand you guys,” one of y/n’s friends say, popping a chip in her mouth. “like, why are you sitting around waiting for chris?”

“because she’s obsessed with him, stupid.” another one interjects. they’re all sitting around y/n’s apartment, music playing from the t.v, snacks and drinks littering the table in front of them.

the four girls were waiting for the guys to finish setting up beer pong in the kitchen, and somehow it had turned into conversation about y/n’s less than conventional relationship with chris. go figure.

“i’m not obsessed with him,” she rolls her eyes. “and i’m not waiting for shit. we’re just casual, despite whatever you guys want to think.”

“right,” the third says, dragging out the ‘i’. she gives her a pointed look. “cause spending every waking moment together, sleeping at his house three times a week and looking at each other how you do screams casual.”

y/n laughs then, shaking her head. “it’s not that serious. can’t two people just enjoy each others times- and beds- without a relationship?”

“sure,” her best friend agrees. “two people can. you and chris though? i don’t buy it.”

“alright, fuck you guys.” y/n stands up from her place on the couch, throwing a pillow at one of her friends with a smile. “i’m going to check on what’s taking them so long.”

the walk to the kitchen is interesting, because honestly, it’s the first time y/n has really thought about her… whatever this thing with chris was from an outside perspective. it’d been a constantly changing few months, and she’d never stopped to think about how she felt in all of it.

sure, sometimes chris says stuff to her that has meaning underneath. sure, sometimes she calls him after a bad day because he always knows what to say. and sure, maybe the sex had gone from fun and wild to slightly intimate with eye contact that sometimes knocked the wind out of her. but that didn’t mean it had to mean anything different than what they wanted.

when she gets to the wall separating the hallway and the kitchen, she hears her name and freezes. “chris, bro, what the fuck is going on with you and y/n? i swear you guys are attached at the fucking hip.”

“basically his fucking girlfriend at this point,” matt, his brother, says and she can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

the girl in question finds herself waiting with bated breath for chris to answer. “fuck off, matt,” she imagines he flips him off. “she’s not my fucking girlfriend.”

it takes her by surprise the way it cracks her just a tiny bit. she knew he’d say it, knew that there was no revelation that would leave his lips. that was expected. what wasn’t expected, was how it made her feel. “we’re just fucking around. she’s a cool girl, but that’s about it.”

y/n thinks that bothers her even more than the previous answer. the words wedge their way into her stomach, wiggling around and filling her with a new, uncomfortable feeling. she thinks it may be disappointment, but she refuses to acknowledge it. chris finds her in the hallway before she can anyway.

“hey, we just finished setting up,” he sends her the most beautiful smile, one that her brain suddenly tells her he doesn’t mean. “i was just coming to find you.”

as soon as he’s in her space his hands are on her, snaking around her waist and pulling her in. he kisses her then, soft and sinfully slow. she throws the weird feelings into the fire and kisses him back just as deep.

when he pulls away, his eyebrows furrow slightly, and he gives her a concerned look. “you good?”

she’s surprised he can tell that something was bothering her. surprised he can read her face that well. it confuses her, which in turn brings those discomforting feelings right back. she looks at him, running her eyes all over him, taking him in. his bright blue eyes, the stubble framing his perfect jawline, the faded acne scar on his cheek. the moment is good, and she’s happy with them exactly as they are.

so, y/n runs her hands through his soft hair, placing a searing kiss on his lips. “i’m great. now let’s go. you’re about to get your ass kicked.”

she pulls him towards the kitchen as he laughs, stamping down the pesky voice in her head that tells her that something about this day will come back to haunt her.

“you said, “baby, no attachment.” but

we’re knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out

is it casual now?”

“fuck, chris,” y/n throws her head back, fisting her hands into chris’s scalp as his tongue works against her. the rubber band in her stomach feels like its about to snap, and she knows she can’t hold on much longer.

“so good for me, baby.” chris purrs, voice sending shocks through her core. “no one could ever know you like me. no one ever will.”

he holds her hips down as she tries to wiggle away from the feeling, her finish clawing through her. “no one.” she babbles, basically slurring from the pleasure.

“only me, ma.” his fingers are pumping unforgivingly, making her black spots appear in her vision. “say it.”

“just you, chris- jesusfuckingchrist,” her words keep sticking to each other as they basically fly from her mouth, and when he flattens his tongue on her, the rubber band explodes. “only you.”

he doesn’t stop lapping at her until she comes down from her high, and she’s a shaking mess in his front seat. he’s whispering praises to her, telling her how good she is to him, tells her how she’s never looked prettier than when she’s coming for him, and tells her he could never find anyone better than her.

when everything is said and done and chris is back in the driver’s seat, raking his hands through his hair incessantly, y/n feels an ugly feeling creeping into her gut. it’s red hot and thick, turning her cheeks warm.

she looks at chris, who’s already looking at her. “you okay? need anything?”

her heart clenches a little. because how can they be “just fucking around” when he looks at her like that?

“yeah,” she says, despite her better judgement. “just tired.”

chris nods, leaning across the middle console and plays with a stray curl. she presses her cheek into his hand, kissing it softly. the look in his eyes sends electricity through her veins.

“well, can’t have my girl unrested.” he rubs her chin between his thumb and pointer finger affectionately. “mine or yours?”

the action makes her sick with feelings. “mine.”

and it’s all she has to say before he’s pulling out of the parking lot like a man on a mission.

fuck.

“dumb love

i love being stupid

dream of us in a year

maybe we’d have an apartment

and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier”

the light filters through the curtains of the bedroom, causing y/n to blink her eyes open. she stretches slightly, only to find herself wrapped up in someone’s arms.

chris snores softly, lashes kissing his cheeks. his hair is everywhere, falling in pretty tendrils on the pillow. in her sleepy state, the girl reaches out, raking her hands through them.

he groans slightly, pushing his head into her hand. “that feels nice.”

she scrapes her nails in his scalp slightly, warmth filling her at his gruff voice. “good morning.”

he finally opens his eyes,which are a pretty dark blue, coated in sleep. “it is now.” the smile he gives her is blinding.

chris’s hold on her tightens. there’s no physical way for them to get any closer, but he’s trying anyway. his right hand is rubbing her back while his left sits on the swell of her ass, playing with the band of her underwear. the touches make her melt into him further.

they lay there for what seems like forever, although if you asked them, it would never be long enough. when they do finally leave the warmth of their bed, y/n is watching from the doorframe as chris brushes his teeth.

“how come you aren’t ready?” he asks through white foam, spraying it forward. he giggles at that, shrugging.

she raises an eyebrow. “ready for what?”

chris rinses his mouth, patting his face dry. “i told you that my friends from back home are here. we’re going out with them.”

“no, you said you were going out with them,” there’s confusion etched into his face as you continue. “i didn’t think that meant i was coming.”

“why the hell not?”

the surprise she feels is jarring. “you want me to meet your friends from home?”

chris gives her a look like she just shot him. he walks up to her, ducking his head down and connecting their eyes. “first of all, i want you with me literally everywhere i go.” he kisses her chastely. “second, ‘course i do. i want everyone to know you’re mine.”

it feels like the world opens up then. there’s a faint hum going through her body, like chris had single handedly brought her back to life.

the smile that paints her face is so radiant, you’d think the sun had risen right here in this room. “okay. i’ll get ready now.”

before she leaves the room, chris smacks her ass, making them both laugh. she feels the hardwood beneath her feet, feels the kisses from this morning on her skin and feels the peace all around her-

y/n’s woken up by the sound of her phone going off. she’s disoriented, wiping away the sleep with stiff hands. when she comes to fully, she’s in her bedroom, alone, with a longing that threatens to knock her right back out.

that was new. dreaming of chris like that. the way every single touch, every single kiss and every single feeling was so painfully real. it was getting self destructive now, the way that she was coming to realize her feelings, but ignoring them every time.

she picks up her phone to look at the time, 1:47 AM, and the texts that cover her screen.

chris <3

1:04 am

wyd

chris <3

1:17 am

come over

chris <3

1:32 am

need you here

there’s something different in the way she feels while reading them. there’s no excitement, no thrill or pleasure that runs up her spine. there’s nothing but a hollow pit in her stomach, making her nauseous.

her mind reminds her ruthlessly of her dream; the way he held her so tight. the way he called her his, and the way it felt to be wanted by him. she knew that this was no longer casual, the way she wanted to be next to him all the time. they way she found herself right there whenever he asked. the way her heart sped up whenever he looked at her. it felt like she was in fucking quicksand, with every time she tried to ignore and drown out her constantly growing feelings for chris, the deeper she sank.

she wants to say no. she wants to turn around and go right back to sleep. to finally admit that this is hurting her way worse than she’s made herself believe. but she’d be kidding herself to believe that there was ever a way for her to deny anything chris wanted. he might not be hers, but she damn sure was his.

was asleep. give me 15 n i’m on my way.

she tries to convince herself she’s fine the entire drive over there.

“two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in long beach

is it casual now?

…and i try to be the chill girl

that holds her tongue and gives you space

i try to be the chill girl

but honestly, i’m not.”

“i’m sorry?”

there’s a deafening silence in y/n’s head when the the words come out of chris’ moms mouth. like the loud buzz and click when turning off a static screen television.

she wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten into this situation. when chris brought it up to her, she was gobsmacked the exact same as now, mouth floundering helplessly.

“my parents are coming next week.” chris says from his place in front of the open fridge. he was rooting around for the last of the soda you kept in there specifically for him.

“i’m glad. i know you said you were missing them recently.” y/n is cooking dinner for the two of them, pasta, cause chris was craving it. she tries not to think of the implications of the scene.

“yeah, i was.”

he’s behind her now, looking over her shoulder at what she’s doing. “can you come over one night? i want you to meet them.”

y/n nearly chucks the pot off the stove with how quick she moves. “you want me to what?”

“holy shit.” chris backs up as she faces him. “you scared the fuck out of me.” he laughs, but she doesn’t return it. she’s just staring at him with wide eyes. something akin to hope blooms in her chest.

“why do you want me to meet your parents?”

chris looks at her like she just asked him to streak. his eyebrows are knitted together, and his eyes are searching hers. “why wouldn’t i?” he shrugs.

she thinks he can’t possibly know what he’s asking. he’s speaking about it so casually that she thinks she might explode. might crumble to the floor beneath his feet. as always.

“i dunno,” she says carefully. trying to find any indication in his face that they were more than she thought from his perspective. “i didn’t know that we were there yet is all.”

chris’ face flashes in recognition then. “ohhhh. no, no,” he laughs like she just told the most hilarious joke in the fucking world. “not like… not like that.”

the words actually make her start to lose consciousness a little. “like that?”

“yeah. not like as a girlfriend or anything.” he has no idea that he’s killing her slowly. “i meant because you’re one of my closest friends. like i know we’re doing this lowkey thing or whatever, but we’re still friends right?”

it would’ve hurt less if he shot her at point blank range.

she nods then, forcing herself to smile. the hope has been smothered just as quick as it started to grow. “yeah, of course. i’d love to.”

he kisses her sweetly before asking if she needs any help cooking for the sixth time today. she says no, and he tells her he’d be in her living room watching TV until she’s done.

it’s only when he left the room did she let herself fall apart.

she feels eerily similar to that moment right now. confused and slightly afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“i said, we’re going on vacation soon and we would love it if you came!” his mom repeats, her smile full and unwavering. “chris never shuts up about you, and you’ve been an absolutely light to be around tonight. we’d love to have you.”

“mom—“, chris groans from next to her in the couch, cheeks turning pink. matt and nick are laughing at him. “quit it. you’re scaring her.”

he didn’t protest. he didn’t shut it down. what the fuck does that mean?

“i wouldn’t want to impose—“ y/n starts, stuttering slightly. her palms are sweating and she feels nervousness pooling in her stomach.

“as if,” nick says. “it would be even better with you there.” matt silently agrees, nodding his head.

she has no idea what to do and chris is looking at her with the most indescribable look she’s ever seen in her god damn life. so she relents. “i’d love to. let me just make sure i’m free.”

his mom’s smile only grows, mirroring chris completely. she turns to nick to talk about something after it’s decided, and y/n’s head is left reeling. chris leans into her ear.

“you don’t have to go, you know.” he says. slowly, she turns her head to him. their faces are close, and she searches his eyes for anything to make her feel better.

“do you want me to?”

his answer is immediate. “of course.”

she knows the next question is heavy, for her at least, so she plasters a small smirk on her lips, raising her eyebrows. “catching feelings, christopher?”

he chuckles, tightening his arm around her shoulders. she envies his ability to go with the flow. to take things as they are. she can’t.

“you wish.”

it shatters her then, but she nuzzles further down into his side anyway. she laughs at the jokes the boys make, the stories his parents tell and the embarrassed blush on chris’s’ neck.

she asks questions when she should, nods and smiles at him when he looks at her. she does it all. for the rest of the night, she acts just like she should, plays her role as the nonchalant, down for whatever friends-with-benefits/situationship/casual relationship girl.

in reality though, she can tell it’s time. can tell by the way her heart constricts when he laughs. by the way she never wants to be away from him. by the way the thought of him wanting her to be so involved in his life is something she craves so bad. she loves him, and its hurting her.

it’s no longer casual, and it’s time to accept it.

“i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself

hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell.”

“chris?” y/n walks out the bathroom in one of his shirts and her underwear, towel drying her hair. the boy in question looks up from his phone. “have you seen my red bra with the lace trim?”

he raises his eyebrow. “i thought you had on a black one tonight?”

she rolls her eyes, throwing the towel into the laundry basket. “yes, christopher, i did. but you know the red one’s my favorite and i haven’t seen it in a while.”

he shrugs, pointing at his dresser. “oh yeah. you left it here when you were over here, one time. it’s in the dresser.”

for some reason, the words hit her like a freight train. she pauses, completely unknown to chris who’s still very much into his phone. when she gets to the dresser, she opens it, and sure enough, there it is.

something about it makes hysteria build in her body. she feels like screaming, feels like sinking into the ground to never be seen again. everything inside her that had been simmering inside her the last five months had finally bubbled over. she couldn’t take it anymore.

“what i am to you, chris?”

she didn’t mean for it to come out, but she’s glad it did. glad that she was finally done denying herself the truth that she rightfully deserved.

his head snaps to hers instantly, eyes wide. “what?”

“you heard me,” y/n walks to her bag that’s sitting on his desk chair. she shoves her legs through her shorts, standing straight and looking chris dead in the eye. “what the fuck are we doing here?”

for a moment, there’s nothing. she can tell the cogs in his head are moving a hundred miles an hour by the way his eyes are scanning her face. “we’re what we’ve always been. we’re hanging out. we’re friends.”

“friends,” she mutters bitterly. “right.”

chris sits up finally, turning his entire body towards her. his phone is tossed and forgotten. “where the hell is this coming from?”

“you just had me meet your fucking parents.” she says slowly, enunciating every word. “they fucking invited on vacation with your family,” the room is spinning for her. running past her in a flurry of color and heartbreak, “you keep my favorite fucking bra in your dresser, and you expect me to be okay with “we’re friends?””

chris can tell that something is wrong. sure anyone with functioning social awareness could tell, but he knows something is really, really wrong.

he stands, rounding the bed, coming face to face with her. he reaches out to touch her, and it’s the first time in the history of their entanglement that she steps away. the hurt on his face is palpable. but for once, y/n doesn’t care about how chris feels. or what chris wants.

“come here.” he says.

“no,” she shakes her head. she looks at him then, really looks. slides her eyes over the fluffiness of his drying hair, straight out the shower. the way his eyes sink in just a bit, contrasting with the bright blue they usually possess. the way his nose slopes and perfectly frames his face. the way his mouth, which has been so good to her, naturally leans upward and to the right, always faintly smirking. she takes in everything about him, snapping a photo in her mind so she can remember it after this moment.

y/n takes a deep breath. one she’s needed for a while. “i’m done with this.”

“what are you talking about?” she tries to convince herself it isn’t panic she hears. “stop being ridiculous and talk to me.”

“i am talking, chris. you’re just choosing not to listen.”

she walks to her bag, grabbing the things that she can see are hers. she spots her tank top on the ground, snatching it up and turning her back to chris quickly, stripping off her- his shirt. she thrusts it into his chest.

“i can’t pretend to be okay with this anymore. i tried, i really did. but it hurts. and i refuse to keep ignoring what i need to be what you do.”

the words smack chris right in the center of his forehead, the way it seems. that look, the one she can never fucking figure out, is right back on his face. it’s not her problem anymore.

he can’t think of anything to say. he’s terrified, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. so what comes out is, “you said you were okay with this. that this is what you wanted.”

y/n’s movements cease and she stares at him. they may be right in front of each other, yet there’s nothing between them but space.

“i was,” she admits. “but now i’m not. so i need you to look me in face right now and tell me what you want. cause i can’t do casual anymore, chris.”

when he doesn’t speak, her words fill the space. “i can’t wake up in your bed five nights of the week with you wrapped around me and call it casual. can’t hear you call me ‘your girl’ and pretend that when we fuck it’s casual. you can’t continuously treat me like your world and then back out when i expect it from you.”

she wishes he would say something, anything. instead, he stands in front of her, desperation haunting his features. she wants to give in, to tell him it’s okay. but she can’t. she won’t.

“i can’t give you a relationship, if that’s what you’re saying.” he runs his hair through his hair. he looks about as stressed as she feels. “i like you, but i’m not ready for that.”

y/n scoffs. it feels like a severed connection. like he just cut the tether between them with a hacksaw. “you can, but you won’t.” she smiles sadly, “and that’s okay. i don’t want you to do something that makes you unhappy.”

she walks to him then, gently placing her hand on his cheek. despite the cavity that’s being carved in place of her heart, she loves him. “i hope, on that at least, you feel the same.”

there’s really nothing else she needs to say, and she doesn’t really think there’s much else she can stomach to hear. so she removes herself from his space, and begins to try to remove him from hers.

he doesn’t try to stop her as she leaves. she doesn’t expect him to. she thinks that tells her everything.

y/n groans as she pulls into her unofficial, official parking spot in front of her apartment complex after work. her entire body aches, and she can’t wait to collapse in her bed.

her phone pings loudly, making her jump. she has that momentary adrenaline rush that she always does when she hears it, even after nearly a month. she wouldn’t say she was holding on to hope that he would text her, but the thought still lives in the back of her head.

it dies as quickly as it always does when she checks, though. her mom had sent her a link to some new recipe she wanted to try. she doesn’t even have the energy to heart the message.

she grabs her bag, trudging up the insane amount of stairs, grumbling about how she can’t wait for her lease to be up. it’s only when she turns the corner to the hallway leading to her apartment that she stops dead in her fucking tracks, body going numb.

there, in all his unfortunately sexy glory, is chris. he’s sitting on the ground outside her door, arms hanging off his knees. through the darkness, y/n can see him in her favorite jacket that he owns, a dark blue and white flannel type, and black, loose jeans hanging off his slouched frame.

she has no idea how long she stands there, unmoving and not uttering a word, but eventually, chris looks up.

he basically jumps up, straightening his clothes. “hi.”

she pushes her feet to move, but they don’t. “hi?”

chris scratches the back of his neck nervously. “sorry to just show up like this- fuck this is probably weird, right?- i just-“ he sucks in a breath. “i wanted to talk to you.”

“oh.” she says dumbly, eyes still wide. “yeah. okay.”

neither of them know what to say, or what to do. they’re just standing ten feet apart, staring like they’ve both seen a ghost. it’s only when y/n’s neighbor comes out of their apartment and she has to get out of the way does she move.

her feet carry her on autopilot, mind blank as she walks to her door. she’s so acutely aware of chris behind her as she opens it. it’s a funny thing, falling in love with someone. your body never forgets how they made you feel. she feels like chris must have a magnet underneath his clothes, the way she’s being pulled towards him.

once they’re inside and the lights are on, she sets her stuff down on the dining room table. she takes in a deep breath, steeling her heart before turning to him.

“so what’s up-“

“i miss you.”

they speak at the same time, but chris doesn’t falter when she gapes at him. “i’m sorry for being a fucking idiot. i’m sorry for hurting you.”

there’s not enough time for her to process anything before he’s walking towards her, slowly, like she might disappear if he makes a sudden move.

“what the fuck?”

it makes him smile slightly. he looks down for a second before closing the remaining space between them. he’s right in front of her now, and feels every hair on her body raise. his eyes are so honest, so open that it kind of takes her breath away. there’s a tiredness to him. like he hadn’t been sleeping well. his eye bags are deeper than before, eyes a little more sunken in. his facial hair is more grown out than she’s ever seen it, pronounced five o’clock shadow that makes him look well beyond his years.

“i always wanted more. i think i was just being a pussy. do you remember when i asked you to meet my parents?” she nods. how could she forget? “that night, i’d been watching you in the kitchen, dancing around and cooking. asking me to try the sauce every time you added something. kicking me out when i got too close or when i asked you if you wanted help again.”

he chuckles, like he’s thinking about his favorite memory. “i was looking at you and i knew that i was in love with you. it hit me like a fucking bus. so i asked you to meet my parents.”

y/n physically can’t do anything but stare at him like he’s telling her the secrets of the universe.

“when you said you “didn’t think we were there yet”…” he trails off, pink tinting his cheeks. “well, it scared the shit out of me. for so many reasons. i thought that meant you didn’t feel the same. then i got scared because i thought i was falling for you and this was still something you could replace.”

she doesn’t know what to say at the confession. doesn’t know how to feel either. it seemed beyond her comprehension that there was ever a time, during their entire relationship, that chris thought his feelings were unrequited.

“why the fuck didn’t you say something when i left that night?” she says incredulously. “you let me walk out of your house thinking you didn’t feel the same. do you know how bad that hurt?”

chris cringes at the reminder. “i know, and i’m so fucking sorry. i’ve replayed that night over in my head literally a million times wishing i could change it.” when he knows she won’t back away, he puts a hand on the space between her cheek and neck. “i do feel the same way, y/n. i always have. i’m sorry i was too chicken shit to tell you. and i’m sorry that you ever felt like you had to keep hurting yourself to make me happy.”

y/n feels her resolve slipping. looking at chris, standing in her apartment after a month of missing him, of wishing he would do exactly what he’s doing now, has her heart beating a thousand miles an hour. that pesky little hope fly, the one she’d thought she squished and smothered, rears its ugly head again.

above all though, she’s cautious. her heart is still tender from the break it took, and she can’t do that again. she gives him a lost look, like despite all he said, she’s still missing something.

he gets closer, lips a hair away. “ask me again.”

“ask you what?”

“what you asked me that night.” he snakes a hand up her hips to her waist. it’s searing, leaving fire in its trace. “ask me again.”

she thinks back, when she realizes, her eyes soften. “what am i to you, chris?” her voice is nothing but a whisper, scared to burst the bubble around them. the moment is so sensitive and soft, the juxtaposition of the original harshness of the question definitely not lost on her.

“you’re everything to me. you’ve been my girlfriend since probably the third week we started this thing,” her breath hitches. “you’re someone i never want to lose again.”

and when he kisses her, cause he just knows, y/n feels herself exhale. feels the pieces of her heart click back in place. it’s like finding a lost puzzle piece under a couch cushion. like the first sip of ice cold water on a scorching day.

she grabs on to him tightly, losing herself in it completely. his lips chase her every way she moves, not standing to be disconnected. it’s messy and beautiful and right. it’s all the miscommunication, fear of the unknown and doubt circling down the metaphorical drain.

she pulls away to speak, but chris doesn’t let her up. she gives him one, two, three kisses back to back before she turns her head, laughing relentlessly. “chris!”

he doesn’t stop smothering her, placing his lips on the corner of her mouth, her neck, her cheek— everywhere he can reach.

“it’s been so long. you can’t expect me to not want you close, baby.”

her heart swells ten times in size, filling her ribcage beautifully. she grabs his face in her hands, raising a stern eyebrow. “i have to say something.” chris pouts slightly, and because she’s waited so long for this, and he’s looking at her like he could never live a second without her, she places one more lingering kiss to his full lips.

“i love you, too, by the way.”

the way his face lights up has even the brightest star withering in envy. he wraps his arms all the way around her body, pulling her impossibly closer.

who knows how long they stay there, heart to heart, finally, finally exactly where they should’ve been all along.

and when they lay close in y/n’s bed that night, skin to skin and deliriously happy, they both have the same thought.

fuck casual.

TAG LIST:

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a/n: jesus fuck this shit took me FOREVER. i hope yall like it cause i spent so long tweaking it and rewriting some parts cause i wanted it to be perfect. this song also is embedded in my bones and i’m obsessed with it so bad. how we feeling cherrie nation!!!

also yes before y’all start… number neighbor!ten will be up with in the hour!! i wanted to post a bunch cause i’ve been working so fucking much and finally had a real day off. back at it tomorrow doe </3

anyways love yall so bad i hope u like it 🥹

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luveline · 1 day

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hiii! i adore you jade so much and can’t thank you enough for all your amazing writing! your fics are incredible! can i have more reader and hotch with their new baby? maybe their night routine takeing care of their newborn? or literally just anything i just love the way you write hotch taking care of both babe and reader! thank you!! xoxo🤍🤍🤍

thank you for your request! fem

“Ready?” Jack asks.

“No. No, no, no!” you cry, giggles slipping through your facade as Jack pelts himself full force from the end of your bed to the pillows where you’re curled. You put your arms out just in time to avoid getting them snapped, catching Jack, and feeling the brunt of his face as he lands on your chest. “Oh! You broke me, Jack. I’m broken!”

“You’re not broken,” Jack says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You better not be breaking your stepmom, Jackers,” Hotch says from the bathroom. “I’m not getting you another one.”

“Boo!” you say.

“I don’t want another one,” Jack declares, still gasping for breath as he presses your faces together.

You pull him in for a cuddle. “Good, baby, I love you too much to be replaced. And I don’t mind dad either.”

“Jack, you gotta stop jumping on her, remember? She just had a baby. It really hurts to have a baby, and it hurts afterwards to get better. Gentle hands,” Hotch says, pulling the bathroom door open completely, the baby bathed and changed in his arms.

Hotch has cared for a baby before, so while you’re not useless, the majority of things have defaulted to him while you recover. You’re lucky, even if it’s how a woman should be treated —Hotch hasn’t made you get up once since you came home almost a week ago. He’s forced you to sit down a few times, actually. And you’d told him how thankful you were for it in whispers only yesterday night, grateful to be cared for with so much dedication.

I should've been better, for Haley, he’d whispered back. She was amazing all by herself when she didn’t need to be. You’ll be amazing too, but we’re gonna do it together.

Maybe he’s overcompensating for past regrets, maybe he’s just looking after you.

Jack strokes your cheek with a little hand. “Sorry. I don’t want to break you.”

“You won’t.” You lean back and attempt to bring him in with you, but Jack won’t be contained.

He springs down off of the bed to crowd Hotch’s legs, face up and smiling. “Dad, are you done?”

“I am.”

“Can you help with the robot now?”

“Yeah, yes. Sorry, I’m gonna fix your robot. You ready, honey?”

You open your arms eagerly. You’ve had a hug from Jack, and Hotch held you under his arm while you were eating your lunch, so all you need now for the trifecta is a cuddle with your baby. One day he’s gonna be able to hug you back, but for now he stretches out in the well of your arms and coos when you kiss his tiny forehead.

Hotch and Jack leave to fix their robot. You slink down, further and further, too tired and sore to want to sit, sliding the baby’s weight into one arm beside you and leaning down to watch him smack his lips. The few baths he’s had have made him tired each time. You feel sleepy just looking at him.

You’d hope that the baby will be handsome like his brother, though Jack looks so much like Haley they probably won’t be very similar. There are hints of Aaron in them both. Babies look like babies, sure, but he has the Hotchner nose. You can tell already.

“My handsome handsome boy,” you sing-song under your breath. He sniffles. You bring your pinky to his nose and give it a gentle touch. “Beautiful baby. I love you.” Your voice turns to sugar. “I love you, baby, you’re so beautiful, just like daddy.”

Footsteps creaking on the landing. You quieten without looking away from the baby, until you feel a familiar hand on your arm. “You okay?”

“Did you fix the robot?”

“Of course I did.” He leans down and in, lips and nose pressing to your arm. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“I am tired. Maybe I’ll nap while he’s sleeping.”

“That’s a good idea. Give him a kiss and I’ll put him back in the crib.”

“No, no, can’t he stay?”

“You want me to stay here and watch you sleep?” he asks, laughing into your arm, pressing another kiss in a path toward your shoulder. “You can keep him until you fall asleep, okay? Then I’ll move him.”

“Will you do that thing to my cheek?” you ask quietly.

“If you tell me what you were saying before I walked in, yes.”

Hotch sits on the bed behind you where you’re sidled up to the baby, the back of his hand falling gently against your cheek, fingers curled and knuckles brushing the skin just shy of your eye one tender centimetre at a time. “Well?” he prompts.

You close your eyes with a contented smile. “Was just telling him he’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” He turns his hand, his pinky finger rubbing the delicate skin under your eye briefly, and the his palm flat to your face. His thumb takes up the guard. You feel fatigue pulling at you from the sheer comfort he offers, though you can manage a few more words, at least.

“He’s beautiful, he has his daddy’s nose.”

“I don’t think that’s what makes him so handsome.”

“No?” you mumble.

Hotch lets his face rest again on your arm. “No, that’s his mother. Couldn’t be anything else.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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rafecameroninterlude · 2 days

Note

hii can you maybe write some rafe angst (i just wanna cry)? idk maybe something about reader finally leaving him after too many chances and he feels like the world is ending or something like that ? btw i love ur work sm <3

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: tysm for this req i’m so happy you love my works <3

“it says that he’s at topper’s..” you glanced up from your phone, sighing to yourself when jade scoffed. “of course he’s at topper’s! but what do you think is happening over there?” your friend took a seat next to you. closing out rafe’s location, you couldn’t help but feel like you were crazy for checking it in the first place. “rafe said he was setting up shop for a party, okay? he’s just busy that’s all.” you sounded unsure, like you were trying to reassure yourself more than anything.

“oh, he’s busy all right.” shutting your eyes, you whimpered. “he hasn’t answered his phone, jade, i’m out of options okay? i’m just going to wait here for him.” she pulled you up before you could lay in self pity. “no you’re not. what we’re gonna do is go down there and catch his ass in the act, okay? you’ve been way too nice to him.” knowing there wasn’t anything you could do but go along with her, you found yourself in her car five minutes later.

“as your friend, y/n, it hurts me to see you go through this time and time again. this asshole doesn’t deserve you and it enrages me that you can’t understand that.” you listened to her rant the whole way to topper’s, your anxiety growing as you two got closer to your destination. “look, when we get in there just remember that no matter what happens you’re not going through this alone, alright?” you smiled at jade, pulling her in for a hug before you two stepped out of her car and made your way inside.

as usual, the place was filled to the brim with partygoers, everyone seemingly in their own world as you and jade walked through the crowded room. “where to?” jade shouted over the music, dragging you in the direction you pointed out to her. when you two made it to rafe’s usual spot, he was nowhere to be found. “y/n, what are you doing here?” topper looked on edge as he greeted you. “hi, ‘top. do you know where rafe is? i’ve been trying to get ahold of him..” you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered upstairs.

“uhh.. you know what! he actually just left, yup. maybe you should go home and see-” jade cut him off, “you’re a really bad liar. upstairs, y/n.” you blinked, your feet moving before you could second guess this whole thing. your best friend followed behind you, your heart beating in your chest as you stood outside the only door that was closed. “ah, shit,” you heard rafe’s voice on the other side of the door, your stomach turning when another girl’s laugh echoed in your ears.

with a shaky hand, you twisted the door knob, your heart dropping to your stomach at the sight of rafe pushing a girl’s head down his cock. “rafe?” your voice was small but it made his eyes snap open. “baby? what are you doing here?” he scrambled up from the bed, pushing away the girl that was kneeling between his thighs. “what the hell!” she wiped her mouth, “you said you were single, asshole.” the girl flashed you an apologetic look as she walked past you and out the door.

tears filled your eyes. rafe cheated on you, again. “you told her you were single?” you whispered, the betrayal cutting deep through your chest like a knife. rafe moved closer, attempting to grab your arm. “no, no, it’s not what it looked like baby, i swear!” he fumbled with his belt, cursing to himself as you shook your head. “i can’t keep doing this with you,” you backed away, “i can’t..” rafe pulled you inside the room, locking the door shut.

“y/n, please let me explain,” he was pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands. “she was giving you head, rafe. how do you ‘explain’ that?” you were eerily calm, staring at nothing but thinking about everything. “she was short on money for some blow, alright? she came onto me, it didn’t mean shit.” he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “is that supposed to make me feel better?” you sniffled, swatting his hand away.

“to know that every laugh, every smile, every memory that we’ve ever shared together wasn’t, isn’t, enough to keep you from choosing someone else over me, just means nothing to you? do you even know what this is doing to me right now?” something about this felt different to rafe, and that’s what terrified him. “of course it’s enough, it’s more than enough. i don’t know why i keep doing this to you, baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” he rubbed his bottom lip, the blue of his eyes now sparkling with tears under the soft light of the room.

“you have it all, rafe. tanneyhill, your father’s business, ‘kook king’ status.. me. what more could you possibly want? what more do you need? the last few times you did this, i was graceful enough to overlook it because i was scared of what it would mean if i did something about it.” if rafe was terrified earlier, now he was damn near ready to drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him. “but i think i’ve just realized something,” oh. fuck. those words made him sick to his stomach.

“wait! please, baby, let’s just go home, okay? let’s call it a night. i’ll make a hot bath for us and we could watch your favorite movies until we fall asleep, just the way you like it, right?” you were seconds away from full on sobbing at his words, the memories of you two cuddling in bed and exchanging ‘i love you’s’ shattering what was left of your heart. “no.. no, i don’t think i want to do that.” rafe was quick, shaking his head as his mouth fell open slightly.

“y/n. this will never happen again, i fucking promise.” he got on his knees. “please.” you looked down, “i need you. you’re the one i want to share everything with. it’s you that i see when i envision my life five, ten, twenty years from now, babe. you’re it for me, i swear. this was just a mistake.” he was clinging onto the hem of your shirt now. “a mistake? betrayal isn’t a mistake, rafe, you chose this.” you planted your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away.

“i’m staying the night with jade but i’ll be back sometime this week for my stuff.” you looked away from him, not being able to trust yourself if you saw the pained expression on his face right now. he groaned, fingers dragging down his face as he got back up on his feet. “you can’t, y/n. please, you can’t do this.” rafe kept a hand on the door so you couldn’t open it. “i’ll do anything, baby, just tell me what to do and i’ll do it.” he pleaded with you.

“move your hand.” you spoke quietly. there was a long pause. “if i stay, rafe, i’ll never leave.”

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thestarsarebrightertonight · 1 day

Text

dreaming of saturn // theodore nott x fem reader

playlist : saturn - sza

summary: theodore nott seems so out of reach to most people yet you have him right in your arms.

y/n used, established relationship , FLUFF

masterlist

"theo , get off me i need to get something from my dorm!" you pleaded as the boy with his head laying on your lap simply crossed his arms and shook his head.

"im not gonna let you go." he stated simply , nustling further into you.

"theodore. theodore! please im really cold i need to go get a hoodie from my dorm," you begged as the boy opened his eyes and perked up.

you stared in confusion at his reaction before he sat up slightly and slipped his slytherin hoodie off, handing it you with a happy smile. you almost melted at the sight.

"thanks theo" you smiled at him with a light blush before putting it on and allowing the boy to rest back onto you.

"it looks better on you anyways , keep it." he winked at you with a grin before closing his eyes again.

you admired him carefully , moving your hand to run through his hair softly , theo leaning into your touch with a blissful smile.

"whats your favourite planet theo?" you asked in a hushed tone as the boys eyebrows furrowed in confusion , his eyes opening to look up at you.

"why?"

"you take astronomy right? you know more about the planets than me. so which is your favourite and why? im just..curious" you reasoned as he hummed and closed his eyes again.

"saturn." he stated simply.

"that was quick. how come?" you asked in curiousity , you werent allowed to take astronomy because you already signed up for other classes instead- so naturally you wanted to expand your knowledge on the topic.

"its got nothing to do with anything scientific or meaningful , its just pretty. like you." he said as you gasped at his last two words.

"you think im not meaningful?!" you dramatically asked in fake offence , laughing at the boys horrified face as he began to stutter out an argument.

"no its not that - definitely not! you mean everything to me! youre just...really pretty. like saturn" he mumbled and rambled trying hard to not upset you.

"dont worry theo , i was joking!" you laughed as he let out a sigh of relief, "ive always liked the moon."

"thats not a planet." theo scoffed in amusement.

"hey dont be rude of course i know that!" you both laughed , "but i like the moon because its pretty, like you."

"you cant call me pretty." he crossed his arms in frustration.

"and why not?" you teased.

"im handsome - not pretty" he complained , blushing red when you laugh and place a kiss on his cheek.

"you're both, does being called pretty damage your little male ego?" you laughed at him.

"shut up" he mumbled.

"im only joking theo , youre more than pretty and handsome , i mean look at that beautiful face!" you grinned and pushed his curls off his forehead.

he blushed deeply and tried to hide his face from you, leading you to giggle and kiss his cheek that was facing you.

meanwhile across the common room , mattheo and draco watch you from a distance.

"i dont get how she does it." mattheo said in astonishment , watching as you tickled theodore and made him smile and laugh so brightly.

"its incredible. must be some kind of magic." draco stated , equally as intruiged.

"yeah , pretty , funny and smart y/n magic," mattheo scoffed as draco nodded , acknowlegding that in reality, you were the full package.

"youre right. i honestly dont blame him." draco shrugged.

there was a short silence before mattheo finally looked away fromy you and theo , turning to draco and making draco mirror his movements.

"10 galleons that he says i love you first." mattheo stuck his hand out for draco to shake.

draco seemed skeptical before taking his hand and shaking it firmly , "sure, ill bet the latter then."

mattheo smirked at him , assuming it was obvious theodore would infact say i love you before you did.

"i cant believe you just bet that?! merlin malfoy you have no emotional intelligence do you!" mattheo laughed , assuming he had already won the bet.

"jokes on you riddle , y/n already told theo she loves him. yesterday , youd be suprised how much theo confines in me," malfoy smirked seeing mattheos shocked face.

"what?!" mattheo seethed , "why wouldnt he tell me first? did he say it back?!"

draco scoffed and looked from you two and back to mattheo , "is that even a question?"

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kika-writes · 2 days

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Can I request a fic about mean/bully Lando x sunshine reader. And one they there is this party or ceremony(something big) and she dresses up all pretty pink and Lando sees her and just amazed at how cute she is. But says something mean and hurtfull thinking she will brush it off but she takes ot seriously and cries? You can put smut in it if you want

Warnings; Smut, 18+, mean!lando

Pairing: mean!lando!norris x fem!reader

You’d been invited to a part with some of your friends and you were more than happy to attend. Alex had chosen a dress for you, pink, with your favourite pair of matching heels. She’d styled your hair into soft ringlets at the back of your head, and you looked pretty, and always. “I swear if I wasn’t with Charles, I’d date you,” she groaned, standing back to admire you as you flushed.

“Shut up, you,” you groaned, covering your face as she jumped up and down, her matching blue dress hugging her body. She’d chosen the colour the match her boyfriend’s race suit in Miami, and pink for you, because you looked good in it. Well, you looked good in everything, but this was your favourite colour too. “Oh my god!” she gasped, seeing her boyfriend in the large party hall.

The lights were turned low so you could barely see, except a few lights here and there to help you. It was light enough to see and make out familiar faces, such as George with Carmen and Alex with Lily and Lando. “Hi Lily,” you smiled warmly at your friend as she gasped. “Girl, gimme a twirl,” she held your hand above your head as she spun you around, “gorgeous, oh my god,”. She clapped her hands as you flushed, waving it off.

A small scoff made you turn to Lando, a small, confused frown across your face. “Hi Lando! Well done your win!’ you congratulated him, a beaming smile on your face. “Cheers,” he shrugged, hands in his pockets. Alex nudged him, making him scowl at the Thai and roll his eyes. “Why are you wearing that?” he said, nudging his chin at you. “M-my dress?” you asked, confused, as Lily went to say hi to Carmen.

“Yeah? What else?” he said, like it was obvious. “It’d a party, I thought I’d wear something that looked nice and Alex said-,” you started, but Lando interrupted. “Yeah yeah,” he waved it off, “don’t need your life story. You look weird,”. His lips turned upwards as his eyes roved over the material. Your cheeks flushed. “Like a right prat, prancing down here, god,” the Brit continued, eyes on your heels now.

“Oh, um,” you said, stepping back slightly. “I need the bathroom,” you muttered, hurrying off into the cloakroom, trying to ignore the tears in your eyes. “Lando, what the fuck?” Alex snapped, looking at the younger man. “What?” he asked, like he didn’t do anything. Lily came back, seeing her distressed boyfriend and turning to him. “Where’s Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “This one made her cry,” Alex shrugged, nudging his shoulder at Lando.

“Lando, what the fuck? You can’t even last ten seconds without upsetting Y/N, can you?” she cried, hands on her hips as Lando looked up guiltily. “She’s not crying, she’s-,” he started but Carmen cut him off. “Yes she is, I just went to see her,” she rolled her eyes at Lando. “I didn’t mean to make her cry, it was an off-handed comment,” he said, regretting what he had said. “Fucking move,” he scowled at Alex, walking to the cloakroom. “Don’t you fucking dare hurt her, Norris,” Lily snapped after him.

He ignored her, making his way to the cloakroom. You were sat on the floor, phone in your hand, scrolling through pointless TikToks. “Lando,” you said, wiping your face quickly. “Y/N,” he nodded, shutting the door behind him, “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, frowning slightly. “You didn’t upset me, it’s just, um, allergies,” you sniffed. “Really? You don’t always have to be such a people pleaser. I was a jerk, Y/N,” he dead, kneeling down to your height. “It’s your win day, Lando, don’t bother,” you brushed it off.

“Best reward right now would be a smile,” his index finger brushed against your jawline as you laughed softly. “Happy?” you smiled softly, realising how close he was to you. In truth, he found you pretty. And he didn’t know what to do, you were very beautiful, yes, but there was something so enticing about you. Maybe how innocent and adorable you were. How hot you looked, without intending for it to be like that. And he wanted to protect you from anyone else, but he didn’t know how to. He wanted you in filthy ways, in truth.

“Are we gonna kiss?” you asked, his lips a few centimetres from yours. “I dunno. Do you wanna?” he asked, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth. You hummed to show you did, letting his hand come to the back of your hand, other one pushing your knees down so he could pull you in closer. Your legs pushed between the inside of his thighs, his tongue playing at your lips as you gasped. “Lando…” you began, his knee parting your legs as you flushed. “Hmmm?” he hummed, pulling back and attaching himself to your neck.

“I want you,” you said, almost embarrassed. “You have me?” he asked, confused. “More,” you said, tugging at his belt. That was an action he had never predicted from you. “Thank god the music’s loud,” he groaned, unbuckling hidden trousers. The cloakroom was small, like a cupboard, just enough space for about four people if they squeezed, but you’d make do. Lando latched the lock on the door, lifting you into his arms. With his back against the wall, he place you on his stomach, panties pressed against his abs.

“Someone’s wet f’me,” he said, index slightly brushing over your clothed clit as you gasped. “Mhm,” you hummed, letting him move them to the side, the cool air hitting your body. “Gonna make this quick, or Lily would think I killed ya,” he grinned, shuffling you back, his cock springing against your thigh. “Please,” you said, palms flat on his chest as he slid you down, taking his full length. “Lando!” you cried, eyed wide at the stretch.

“Never gonna be mean to you again,” he hummed, bouncing you slightly as he thrust his hips upwards. Your face was above his chest, your mouth open in shock still, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. “So pretty,” he cooed, hand cupping your breast, teeth latching onto the exposed skin. “You like that, yeah?” he asked, tongue running over the faint mark. You nodded, both of his hands coming to your waist to hold you up and firm in place, so he could hammer into you from the bottom.

“Stay with me doll,” he tapped your cheek, your eyes regaining focus as he wiped your hair away. “‘M close,” you mumbled as he grinned. “Me too,” he nodded. You felt yourself release onto him, the music fading your moans as Lando groaned, pulling out and spilling onto his own stomach. “Good girl,” he panted, “wow, doll,” he slid you off of him, cradling your body into his chest. “Gotta clean up before they come back and try to kill me,” he wiped the excess off of his body and helped you look back to normal.

“Where were you two?” George said, eyebrows raised. “Takes a lot of convincing to apologise to her,” Lando said, trying to hide his smirk. “Alright, bro,” Alex nodded, turning back to George. “Mhm,” Carmen winked at you as you flushed,

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris smut #f1

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remlionheart · 1 day

Text

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡

♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚

#rem writes #bsd dazai #dazai smut #dazai x fem reader #dazai osamu #soukoku #bsd smut #osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai headcanons #bsd headcanons #dazai fluff

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erwinsvow · 1 day

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omg i keep thinking about reader teasing rafe all day, and like reader keeps like finding reasons that they can’t have sex just to see how far rafe would go. i feel like rafe would either not stand for it or he would get so angry

so bitchy reader coded!!!! she loooves to do this

teasing rafe is fun because it's so easy. he's such a sucker, falls for your same tricks everytime. you have him running in circles without doing anything at all.

and at heart, you like to see it. it's fun for you—watching him chase you. he cares enough to do it, hasn't stopped even though it's been weeks and months of the same, ever since you caved and allowed yourself to realize you wanted rafe to be your boyfriend.

it starts the same—his favorite dress. strapless, with a pretty blue pattern and a ribbon border that ties into a bow on the neckline, at the curve of your tits. you look pretty, you always do, but this dress makes you even prettier, you think. you pick it out knowing he goes crazy over it every time, knowing you were going to make it hard for him today.

it's not really a day dress, so you slip your white cardigan over your shoulders to make it seem more so, climbing into the passenger seat of rafe's truck with a little too much show, revealing a little too much leg and hands lingering on the seatbelt across your chest a little too long.

when rafe sees you, he swallows hard, and you already know your plan is working. he stares, where the seat belt tightens on your body and the expanse of your thighs that's openly visible now that you're seated.

"rafe?" you question, staring back at your boyfriend while his eyes are hyperfocused on your exposed skin.

"hm?" he looks up at your eyes for a second.

"are you gonna drive or just keep looking at me?"

"oh. uh-" he shifts the car into gear, taking off, though you catch him staring back at you every few minutes. the next time he does, you move your hand to his cheek, pushing it gently so he's looking on the road.

"eyes ahead, perv. i don't wanna die because you're horny," you say it with a laugh, though he doesn't take it as one.

"shut up. why'd you wear that dress?"

a good question. why had you worn the dress? because you and rafe had gotten into a little fight the night before, and there was nothing more satisfying to you than making him cave first in your fights.

"my others were in the laundry. tough."

when he arrives at the country club, it just hits him there's a fully planned day ahead—lunch with top and kelce, golf, dinner with your parents and then the party later that night. there's hardly any time to get you alone.

"listen, princess, i think-"

"gonna be late, rafe! let's go," you say, making a show out of getting out of the truck and flashing him in the process. he groans before getting out to join you.

the day moves painstakingly slow for him. at lunch, you take off the cardigan and lean in to tell him something twice, letting him stare down the front of your dress for a moment before you pull away. when you go to the bathroom to freshen up, he gets up to join you, but you yell out to a friend in the distance and walk in with her, smiling back at rafe.

he sits back at the table grumbling something.

"what's wrong with you?" kelce asks, "never seen you this mad before golf."

"shut it."

on the course, his game is completely off. you keep bending over to retrieve the golf balls after he holes out, walking back and placing it into his palm with a sweet smile, though you are anything but.

"what're you doin'?" rafe asks, holding you close with your arm in his hand.

"getting the ball for top. what else?"

"no, you're fuckin' not." he grips your arm a little tighter, but you break loose, turning around and smiling back at him, before bending over to pick up top's golf ball and placing it in his hand.

he makes it to dinner with your parents angry and horny. you're seated next to rafe, rattling on about your day to them with a hand on rafe's arm. your foot rubs against his ankle, crawling further up while he tries to tell your dad about his golf score.

"the new course is great," your dad says, just as rafe feels your hand on his thigh.

"y-yeah," rafe chokes out.

"you okay? drink some water," you say, smiling like a concerned girlfriend instead of the little devil you really are.

a full day's events later, he gets you alone at the party, setting his beer aside to yank you by the back of your dress into the nearest empty bedroom. your friends stare while rafe drags you away, though you don't look the least bit upset about it.

"hey! you're gonna rip my dress," you say, trying to get free from his insanely strong grip.

"shut it. what the fuck was that all day? huh? thought that was cute?" rafe sounds about as angry as you've ever heard—it's a lot hotter than you had expected.

"what? i didn't do anything."

"shut up. get on the fuckin' bed."

"okay!" you chirp, agreeing immediately. teasing rafe was only fun because you got what you wanted out of it—him, at the end, all angry and tense and pent up. you reach back to undo the bow on your dress, getting ready to unzip it when rafe's hand stops your own.

"no. leave it on."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #bitchy reader #this isnt even relevant but i luv mean rafe

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russo-woso · 3 days

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Will you please do a lia walti x reader where reader gets injured in international duty and Lia is really worried because she saw it happen on tv

I’m sorry I can’t be there | Lia Wälti

Warning injury, mention of blood

(Please pretend Leah was able to play in the December matches. I know she wasn’t in the squad but I realised as I had finished writing it.)

“That’s not Lia again is it?” Leah questioned as she saw you on FaceTime.

“No.” You respond, clearly lying.

“Hi, Lia.” Leah said as she took a place sat next to you.

“Hi Leah. How’s my girl doing?” Lia asked, and Leah fake gagged at the pet name.

“She’s doing fine. Scoring goal after goal in training.” Leah explained, taking the phone off you so she could continue the conversation with Lia.

It was your first England camp and to say you was nervous was an understatement.

You were scared that you weren’t going to be good enough, scared that you’d have no friends there, thinking that the Arsenal girls would go and spend time with their other friends, but you were completely wrong.

Leah had been with you throughout the whole camp, making sure you were settled in, making sure you were never bored or alone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lia had pulled Leah aside and asked her to make sure you were alright and Leah couldn’t say no to her best friend.

And anyway, you and Leah were like sisters so she was obviously going to look after you.

“Can I have my girlfriend back now?” You asked Leah, gesturing for her to give you back your phone.

“Bye Lia, see you soon.” Leah waved to the phone, handing you the phone. “I never spend any time with my best friend anymore because of you.” Leah mumbled under her breath as you shook your head at her.

“It was you who introduced us.” You defended, remembering the time when Leah introduced you to Lia on your first day at Arsenal.

“Love, I’m going to go to sleep now but I’ll message in the morning.” Lia said, restricting the bickering between you and Leah to continue.

“Okay, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too, liebling.”

“I regret introducing you both. It’s absolutely sickening how in love you two are.” Leah stated, sighing as she recalled all the past times where you and Lia have been sickeningly cute together.

“You’re just jealous because you have no one to be sickeningly in love with.” You pointed out as Leah’s signature frown appeared on her face.

“I can easily talk to Sarina about dropping you from the squad.” Leah threatened, clearly joking with you.

“There is no way we’ll be dropping Y/N from the squad.” Sarina said, walking into the room. “She’s a valuable player, one that we need.”

“Thank you, Sarina.” You spoke before turning back to Leah and sent a smirk to her.

Leah shook her head before walking out.

Letting out a small laugh, you joined into a conversation with Beth and Lucy.

————————

Looking at your phone, good luck I love you xx was displayed on it from Lia.

“You’ll do fine. I know you will.” Your Arsenal teammate, Alessia, said, resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, less.” You responded, hesitantly, not knowing if she was right or not.

“Alessia’s right, mate. Believe in yourself. You’re here for a reason.” Lotte spoke up, as everyone hummed in agreement.

After getting warmed up and ready for the game, Sarina pulled you to the side, explaining that she’d put you on later in the game.

You smiled, happy that you would definitely be debuting for your country.

Remembering Lia’s message earlier, you opened your phone sending a quick text.

Thank you, baby. Sarina said I’d be on in the second half. Good luck on your match x

And with that, you walked out of the tunnel and onto the bench.

————————

After a disappointing first half, the Netherlands scoring two goals, and a dramatic start to the first half, Georgia and Hempo equalising, it was your turn to run onto a sold out Wembley.

It was the 79th minute and from the tactics Sarina had shared with you, you were fairly certain that you could help change the scoreline.

And that’s exactly what you did.

As you received the ball on the left wing, two minutes into injury time, you looked up to see Tooney making a run into the box.

You took a touch before delivering the ball perfectly to Ella’s feet.

However, before you could even see if Ella got it into the goal, you were taken off your feet due to a late tackle.

You fell to the floor, clutching your ankle as you screamed out in pain.

The girls gathered round you, immediately calling for the medics to come over.

It felt like minutes before the medics got to you when actually, it was only a matter of seconds.

In the few seconds it took them to get to you, the Dutch player apologised profusely. She also got a red card, saying sorry a final time before making her way off the pitch.

You were trying to take your mind off the pain, instead trying to focus in on your surroundings, but as the medics took your boot off, a muffled grunt of pain escaped your mouth as you bit down on your shirt.

Leah held your hand, letting you squeeze it as medics slide down your sock to reveal a very broken ankle.

You looked up, which you know now you shouldn’t have done, to be met with a tonne of blood running down your leg and ankle.

You had figured she had gone into the challenge studs first, but what you hadn’t realised was just how impactful it had been, especially so forceful it had made you bleed.

Eventually, the medics called the onsite paramedics to stretcher you into the ambulance.

You couldn’t remember the rest, apart from Leah saying goodbye.

The paramedics gave you strong painkillers that happened to make you really out of it.

As soon as you arrived at the hospital, they took you into surgery, placing pins into your ankle before putting it in a cast.

Whilst you were in surgery, some of your teammates made their way to the hospital to check you were alright.

Leah made sure to request that she received frequent updates on you and also requested that you had your own private room.

Which came in handy because when you awoke from surgery and they wheeled you back to your room, you had several missed calls from Lia.

You clicked on her name, calling her back, and within just two seconds she picked up.

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” Lia’s voice was barely a whisper, sadness and worry clearly visible in her voice.

“I’m okay, love, I promise. Just a broken ankle. and several months of recovery, but I’ll be okay.” You reassured her, your voice hoarse from not talking for hours.

“It was so scary, baby. At the end of the match, I was told you went down and we turned on the tv on the coach back to the hotel and it was showing your injury. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I’m sorry I can’t be there now.” Lia explained, small sniffles could be heard between every few words.

“Lia, love, I promise it’s okay that you’re not here. Don’t worry about me please. You go and enjoy the Spanish sun. I’ll be fine.” You repeated your words, making the point clear that you were okay.

“I love you, Y/N.” Lia’s voice broke as she said it, making your heart clench.

“I love you too, Lia. I’ll see you soon. Get some sleep, love.”

————————

After the exhaustion that the drama and injury caused yesterday, it wasn’t a surprise when you woke up close to 1 o’clock in the afternoon the following day.

Your eyes opened, hesitantly due to the light, noticing the big cast on your leg that you got to properly see for the first time in the daylight.

You winced in pain as you pushed yourself up against the bed so you were sitting up.

Looking to your right, you saw a big get well soon balloon on your table with a bouquet of flowers next to it.

Your eyebrows furrowed as a confused look took over your face, clearly confused as to who they were from.

“They’re from me.” A voice said from your left.

You recognised the voice immediately, after all, it was your favourite voice to hear.

“Lia? Baby, what are you doing here?” You questioned as you opened your arms for her to hug you.

“I couldn’t stand not being with you. I felt bad for not being with you when you got injured and I couldn’t not be here for your recovery.” Lia explained, tears welling in her eyes.

“You’re here with me now though.” You pointed out, moving on the bed so Lia could lay down next to you.

“I am. And I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too, love.”

My requests are open :)

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti

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loveinhawkins · 3 days

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passing period

ao3 written for @steddiemicrofic May 2024 prompt, “top,” 510 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, post season 1, cw: brief mentions of nausea & vomiting.

The sleepless nights catch up with Steve eventually. He doesn’t know what pushes him over the edge exactly—whether it’s the brightness of the hallway, or even the movement of his bag, the strap rubbing against the bare skin of his shoulder—just knows that he’s tilting suddenly, mid-step.

Before he can slam against the lockers, he feels a hand around his forearm, a quiet, “Bathroom?”

Steve nods through clenched teeth.

He flings his bag off just in time as he’s steered into a stall—promptly throws up into the toilet.

It’s over in what feels like a blink; more time must’ve passed though, because the usual chatter in between classes has faded away.

Over the flush of the toilet, Steve hears a voice outside the stall, “You contagious, Harrington?”

Steve rubs one eye. “No,” he says curtly.

“Darn. Was hoping for a ticket outta class.”

Steve opens the door to find Eddie Munson leaning by the sinks. He’s got Steve’s bag slung over his shoulder, safe from the clinging damp of the tiles.

“Dude, you’re gonna be so late.”

Eddie checks his watch lazily. “Nah, I like a dramatic entrance. Always fun watching the light leave O’Donnell’s eyes.”

“Doesn’t she, like, take marks off for shit like that?” Steve says passively, washing his hands—it just seems like the kind of thing to ask, especially since most seniors have been hurrying around all December, faces pinched with stress.

Evidently not Eddie Munson.

“Yeah, don’t think that’d make a difference,” he says, and maybe the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Not exactly top of the class.”

Steve shrugs in vague acknowledgement. Briefly presses his palms to his eyes, blessedly cool from the water—doesn’t really think anything of it until he drops his hands, sees Eddie just looking at him, a slight crease to his forehead.

Steve feels far too drained to even try and figure out whatever he’s noticed.

“You okay?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with the question, too bare in its sincerity; there’s no expected space for him to make a quip back, to play it off.

“Just tired,” he says, “that’s all.”

“Mm-hmm, that’ll kill ya in the end,” Eddie says, sing-song.

Freak, Steve thinks mildly.

“Hey, uh, who d’you have right now, Harrington?”

Steve has to think about it, his timetable hazy.

“Um… Mundy.”

Eddie makes a face. “My condolences.”

As Steve dries his hands, he hears the rustle of paper, a quick pen scrawl.

“Here,” Eddie says.

Steve turns. Eddie’s holding out his bag to him; Steve takes it, before being handed something else: a hall pass bearing a convincing copy of Mundy’s signature.

“In case anyone gives you shit. Folks are still kinda, y’know,” Eddie wiggles his hand back and forth, “since the whole Will Byers thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I know.” He folds the hall pass. “Um, thanks. How much—?”

But Eddie waves him off. “Nah, that’s your free sample.” He opens the bathroom door, glances back with parting words: “And I’d take full advantage, Harrington. Go home and sleep.”

#as ever Eddie intuitively gets some things without having the full picture #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmay #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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dira333 · 3 days

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Latte me be your lover - Iwaizumi x reader

requested by @ur-local-simp - tagging @shoulmate for reasons

Haikyuu taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

"A hot coffee for a hot guy."

You roll your eyes. Hajime just thanks the barista and steps to the side to let you through.

The very second he turns away the smile drops from her lips and she scowls at you. But you've been anticipating it, your own smile saccharine sweet.

It's like this wherever you go. They hit on Hajime until they realize he's not coming alone. Some of them are embarrassed at your sight, others... not so much. And it's not like you're his girlfriend by any means - well, except the means of where you dream about it every night - but they don't know that, right?!?

"Are you going to call them?" You ask as soon as some caffeine has entered your bloodstream.

"Who?" Hajime grabs your hand and pulls you back, narrowly saving you from stepping into dogshit. Ugh.

"The barista. She wrote her number on your cup."

"She did?" He furrows his brows as he inspects the little paper thing that's wrapped around his cup to keep him burning his hands.

The amount of smugness you feel when he slips it off and uses it to pick up the dogshit and throw it away is insane. If only you could go back and tell her. Also, your crush is seriously environmentally motivated. Go, Hajime!

"One Latte Machiatto with extra Caramel drizzle," Hajime tells you before turning back to the girl ordering. "Anything else?"

"Your number?" She purrs, completely disregarding the line forming behind her.

"What number?" Hajime asks, stiff as a board. From where you're standing you can tell how tense his shoulders are. Bless him.

"Your phone number, duh," she laughs and you have to admit, she's really pretty. Her teeth are a little too white for your taste, though, but you know she'd be Oikawa's type. If only she'd come in yesterday when you had to endure his whining for a whole shift. It's not your fault he cannot get a girl.

"Sorry," you slip up to him, press into his side like a cat. Breathe, you scream at him in your thoughts, but your smile is sweet as you hand her her drink. "He's taken."

"Are you sure?" Terushima asks.

"Absolutely," you tell him, willing Hajime to work a little faster.

"You didn't even give me a chance." Terushima's not above begging to get a date, it seems. "I got a tongue piercing, you know." He sticks out his tongue but all you can hear is the splish-splash-clatter of someone dropping a drink. When you turn, Hajime's already on his knees, red-faced, wiping up the remnants of what was supposed to be Terushima's coffee order.

Terushima grins knowingly back at you. "So, since I have to wait a little longer..."

"No," you tell him, stone-faced, "Never."

"Come on!" He whines. "Like, one date?" His eyes flicker to where Hajime's disappearing in the back. "We could make him jealous."

Heat errupts in your cheeks. You knew you'd been pretty obvious in your advances, but this takes the cake.

"Don't ever ask me again," you tell him through your clenched teeth, seconds away from stabbing him with a fork. "You get me?"

He laughs, carefree and easy as if this doesn't matter to him at all.

"All good, all good. Say, do you have the number of your coworker? The cute one with the blond hair?"

You harrumph. "Give me yours," you insist, "I'm not giving out Yachi's number to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger," he defends himself, "We've been in a class for more than a year. But here," he makes a whole show of it, scribbling his number on a napkin and handing it to you, "My number. Take care of it."

You snort and tuck it into your pocket, only realizing Hajime's back when he clears his throat awkwardly behind you.

Hajime's been distant for the past week.

It's not unusual not to hear much from him for a few days, especially during exam season. You don't think much of it at first, because even though you've been crushing on him for the better part of your three-year friendship, you both still have a life outside of each other and the hell-hole you call work.

But then you're suddenly working your Monday shift with Makki instead of him. You've never worked Mondays without him. It's the worst day to work except maybe the weekend and he had to pinky promise to never let you down when the boss asked who'd cover it - you got free weekends but still, are pinky promises nothing worth anymore?

"Where's Hajime?" You ask Makki. The guy only shrugs. But he's been Hajime's friend longer than he's been yours so you don't think he'd tell you even if he knew.

On Wednesday you work with Mattsun. And boy, does he know what's going on. You can read it in the tilt of his eyebrows, the curve of his mouth.

"Spill," you tell him, "Or I'll never give out your number to cute girls again."

"I have a girlfriend," he replies lazily. You narrow your eyes at him.

"And apparently so do you," he continues, "Or rather, a boyfriend."

You furrow your brows. "Since when?"

"I don't know..." He doesn't seem to take this seriously at all. "I'm just telling you what Iwaizumi told me."

"Hajime told you I have a boyfriend."

"Mhm," he smiles brightly. "And then he asked to switch shifts with me."

Hajime has the decency to look guilty. He's ducking his head and it's probably only his manners that keep him from shutting the door on you.

"Why did you tell Mattsun I have a boyfriend."

He grimaces, but his mouth stays closed.

"Hajime," you insist, voice low, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Maybe not yet," he argues, "But Terushima..."

"That's what this is about?" You ask, "Terushima asking me out? He's done that for months and I've never shown any interest. What makes you think I would change my mind?"

"You took his number," he tells you, eyes flickering around, lips pushed forward in something like a pout. "And he's got a piercing-"

"Hajime," you say, more than just exasperated, "Girls flirt with you every time you step out of your room. If I cut contact with you every time we wouldn't be friends anymore, would we?"

He flinches a little, but he's too stubborn to give in. Yet.

"No one's flirting with me," He insists, now an angry line between his brows, "You're imagining-"

"I've been flirting with you for the past two years," you add. If you're going down, you're at least going down with everything you've got.

Hajime freezes. His eyes are wide and his hand tries to grab the door but misses.

"You- what?!"

"What do you think writing my first name with your last name means? Or writing your name on my skin pretending it's a tattoo? Or cuddling into you during movie nights?"

"You run cold!" He defends himself, "A-and... And you said my name was pretty!"

"YES!" You huff, "Because I'm in love with you!"

Hajime's mouth opens and closes without any sound coming out. Your heart is hammering painfully against your chest. One more second, you tell yourself, one more second you'll give him before you finally give up.

His hand shoots out, grabs yours, and pulls you inside before you've fully finished that thought.

"Really?" He asks, a shy smile spreading over his face. "Really really?"

"Really really really," you promise, offering him your pinky. "I swear."

"Wow, you've got bad taste," you tell Atsumu when he's finished his order. He balks at you, but you snicker and his twin joins your teasing.

"I'll never come to visit you at your job again," he threatens and you shrug. "Sucks to be you, I guess."

"Come on, don't be like that," Atsumu wouldn't be Atsumu if he didn't try and wheedle his way into your favorites again. His eyes flicker to the side and he grins. "Can I at least get your number?"

Hajime's chest slams into your back. You can feel his anger without turning to look.

"She's taken," your boyfriend huffs behind you. "Don't be disrespectful!"

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #seijoh 4

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sunkissed-zegras · 1 day

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Hi! I hope your day is going well :)). Do you think that you could do Nika with the manager? Like where she gets protective with her at a game or party? That women is so fine and I've barely even seen anyone write for her😭😭.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐒 & 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐒 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

─ word count | 905

─ warnings | descriptions of partying/drinking, manager's friends being kinda stupid, frat guys (ewww), one singular shove, uh nothing else??

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @paigeszn @ekisokau @plushkhiii and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

NIKA'S HANDS FOUND their way to your waist effortlessly, pulling you in closer to her chest as you laughed along to what your friends were saying.

Nika didn't like to party unless she absolutely had to, or if she was in the mood. She didn't like any aspect of it ─ the booze, the loud music, the overwhelming smell of weed and especially how weird people got. She liked partying when it wasn't in some random person's house, with a bunch of frat guys with huge egos and terrible hygiene.

However, you wanted to go out tonight and she refused to let you go alone. Even if she wasn't super close to your friends, she still wanted to be there with you (despite both of you having a very early morning practice the next day).

She wasn't having the time of her life but she certainly wasn't miserable, she liked being around you even if you weren't talking to her. Your laughter, your occasional glances her way, and the warmth of your presence were enough to make the experience bearable for her.

"So, Nika," your friend began, her voice slightly slurring. "You're from Croatia? And you play basketball? That's a really... really random combo."

You sent a glance toward your very tipsy friend then looked back at your taller girlfriend. "She's really good,"

"I know, we've all seen her play. She's like... amazing," your friend spoke as she smiled at Nika. "I just thought you'd like be into soccer or something cause like, you're European. Or something,"

You sent your friend a glare as Nika laughed, pulling you closer into her chest. Nika chuckled at your friend's comment, her laughter warm despite the slightly awkward situation. "I get that a lot," she said with a good-natured shrug. "But basketball's always been my thing."

You couldn't help but smile at her, feeling a surge of affection for the way she effortlessly handled the conversation, even in her slightly tipsy state.

"Yeah, she's the best," you chimed in, wrapping an arm around Nika's waist and pulling her closer. "And she's pretty amazing at everything she does."

"Ew, my god. Get a room," you friend gagged as she turned from the two of you, earning laughter from the two of you.

Suddenly, you felt some clash into you, spilling their drink all over you. As the liquid soaked through your clothes, you couldn't help but groan in frustration, the sudden interruption jolting you out of the moment. Nika's arm tightened around you protectively, her expression shifting from amusement to concern as she assessed the situation.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry as she gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

"Oh my god, dude. I am so sorry, I should've been more careful," you both looked up to meet the man's eyes.

Of course, he was a frat guy, Nika thought to herself. Nika's protective instincts flared as she shot a glare at the guy, her expression a mixture of annoyance and frustration. Despite the apology, she couldn't shake the feeling of irritation at the carelessness of his actions.

"You two are gorgeous, by the way. I've seen you, aren't you like the manager for women's basketball team or something?" The guy's gaze was fixed on you as his lips turned upward into a smirk.

"Yeah, that's me," you replied tersely, trying to keep your composure despite the uncomfortable situation. Nika shot a warning glance at the frat guy, silently urging him to back off.

"Can I get you two beauts a drink?" He spoke, his voice husky as he leaned in closer. And before you could even process the situation, Nika sent him flying with a rough push.

Before he could even regain his bearings, Nika stepped forward, her expression fierce as she stood between you and the frat guy, her stance unwavering. "First of all, back the fuck up. We're not interested,"

The frat guy scrambled to his feet, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "You're crazy, how would your coach like to hear about you assaulting a guy, huh? You'd be off the team in no time, bitch."

Nika's eyes narrowed at the frat guy's threat, her fists clenched at her sides but before she could react, you stepped forward, your voice dripping with anger.

"Yeah, yeah go ahead and talk to him and see what happens. Nothing, this is obviously self-defense because you can't take fucking hints," you shouted as your eyebrows furrowed.

The frat guy hesitated for a moment, his anger warring with his sense of self-preservation. Finally, with a muttered curse, he turned on his heel and stormed off, disappearing into the crowd.

"Are you okay, baby?" She muttered as she pulled you into a tight embrace.

"No, no I'm fine. Are you okay?" You mumbled into her chest as she nodded. "He's not gonna do anything,"

"No, he's a little bitch." Nika spoke sharply as you let out a slightly breathless laugh. She smiled at the sound, her stomach filling with butterflies as she did.

With a final squeeze, Nika pulled back slightly as she pulled your lips into a soft kiss. "Let's get out of here," she said, her voice firm but gentle.

You looked back at your drunk friends, then back at Nika. You said your goodbyes quickly as she held your waist, leading you to the door.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#uconn women’s basketball #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl imagine #nika mühl #nika muhl #wcbb x reader #wcbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #seattle storm #wnba draft #wnba basketball #ncaaw #uconn wbb manager ★

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pb524830 · 1 day

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right where you left me

part: 5 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.8k c/w: sexual content, language, alcohol a/n: happy reading my lovelies!!

I snuggle further into Paige. We’d had a slow, lazy morning, complete with sleepy kisses and the most languid, indulgent head I’d ever received. It was now eleven in the morning, and despite already having had her head between my legs, Paige didn’t seem to want to do anything else but lay in bed.

If I could wake up like this everyday, I would. I’m sprawled across her chest, my face turned up to press into her neck. She smells like she always does - fresh, clean, a hint of sweet vanilla. She blinks down at me, letting her lips spread into a slow grin, then leans down to kiss my forehead.

I want to try again. I’d decided that much yesterday, perhaps against my better judgment. But it’s Paige, and when it’s her, my judgment flies out the window. I think back to her words from last night as her thumbs stroke over my bare side. How could it be wrong? How could this be a mistake? “It’s us,” she’d told me, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She’d said that to me once, too. That we were obvious. I hadn’t fully known what she’d meant then.

I understand it now, entangled in her in more ways than one, feeling that, even miles away from any place I’ve ever called home… that this must be it.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Mai?” Paige mumbles groggily. She laughs to herself, reaching up to push my hair out of my face. “Remember I used to call you Mai Tai?” I wrinkle my nose. “That shit is nasty,” I inform her. “Bro, you actually hate fun,” she complains, but it’s teasing. “The whole thing is just rum,” I mumble, burying my face further into her. “Can we get drunk together?” She wonders aloud. I frown into her skin. “Didn’t you get wasted enough last night?”

I feel her shrug, then shudder when I press a light kiss into her collarbone. “Yeah, but… I want you to come meet the girls. Or whatever.”

I tense. Ever so slightly. But she senses it, her hand immediately splaying across my back, a reassuring pressure.

Part of me thinks we should talk it out. Like, really talk it out - not just scream at each other in a parked car in the middle of the night. But the other part of me… the other part of me is thinking that I finally have her back. And it’s like I never even lost her. I don’t want to scare her off. I don’t want to fuck this up.

I don’t want to lose her again.

“I’d like that,” I say, bating my breath.

She kisses the top of my hair. “You’ll drink with me?” She asks. I didn’t drink a whole lot in high school, so it makes sense why she’s asking me.

I shift in her arms, looking up at her. My thumb comes up to trace her chin, ghosting over her lips. I could get used to this - skin to skin, nothing between us. No distance. No history. Just love and desire and the sweet, sweet aftertaste of a night and morning well spent.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Paige.”

Paige grins at that, her cheeks appling with the smile that envelops her face. “Oh, yeah?” She teases.

I roll my eyes, knowing where this is going, and I sit up, letting the covers fall off of me, and it’s like her eyes have been hyper-programmed to zoom into my bare chest. “Jesus Christ, dude,” she says in awe. I straddle her waist, pushing her head back slightly. “Something wrong?” I ask, cocking my head.

“Mm-mmm. Everything’s perfect, ma,” she rasps out, and it sends heat straight between my legs as her hands find my bare ass.

It’s criminal how perfect she looks in the morning. Her hair is mussed from where my hands gripped her head while she went down on me this morning, her lips plump and bitten from the lazy makeout session we’d engaged in after. Her chest and stomach are littered with purple marks I’d claimed her with last night, tits perky and perfect and just begging to be sucked.

“You talk to all the girls like that?” I ask off-handedly, but there’s not one part of me that wants to know the answer.

“What’s that, ma?” She reiterates slyly.

“I said, do you talk like this to all the other bitches you fuck?” I bite, and though I’m not trying to rile her up, I can’t help taking her tits in my hands, kneading them while I toy with her nipples.

“Only the ones with asses like yours,” she tells me, her tone low and sultry, punctuating it with a squeeze.

I laugh at this, shaking my head at her.

“Or these tits, God,” she groans, hands coming up to cup my breasts. She kneads them slowly, coaxing small whimpers out of me as my hips buck of their own accord. Then her hand reaches up to lightly trace over my neck and I let out a small gasp. Her eyes flicker to mine. “Can I..?” I nod eagerly, and her fingers close around my neck, squeezing before trailing down. I let my head loll back. Her hand rests on my collarbones, splayed across them.

“Fucking… work of art,” she breathes, referring the the patchwork of marks she’s left across my neck and chest. It reminds me that she’s left a litany between my thighs, as well. Paige hesitates, then reaches one hand out to fumble for her phone. “You can say no,” she murmurs to me, but her eyes are blown so black when she looks at me that it hardly feels like an option.

I want her to have this. I want her to look at it when she’s in Connecticut and I’m in Michigan.

I want her to see it and remember that no one knows her like I do, that no one fucks her like I do.

I want her to get off to it, and I want it burned in the back of her eyelids the second she thinks about even touching another girl.

The steely determination of “mine, mine, all fucking mine” roars through my body as I move my hair to the side, exposing all the echoes of that same phrase she’s practically burned into my skin.

“Do it,” I say, daring her.

I don’t know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe it’s the way Paige’s lips part when she raises her phone camera up. Maybe it’s the breathy moan she lets out when she shifts back to get a better angle. Maybe it’s the way the bright blue of her irises are flooded with dark, dark, desire.

But I arch my back, pushing my tits forward. I bring my finger up to my mouth, biting it while winking slyly at the camera. “Fuck, Maya,” she groans, but I’m not done. I cover my tits with my hands, my palms just over my nipples, manicured fingers splayed out, and I throw my head back. Dumbfounded, Paige snaps more pictures, the click of the camera spurring me on.

Then I take her hand, pulling her fingers towards my mouth. I engulf three of them between my lips, covering them in my spit, licking over her rings, then guiding her hand to cup my breast. Her breath hitches, and I hold her hand there, bringing my other hand up to match it.

“Paigey,” I croon. She’s practically drooling, her eyes hooded when she meets mine. “Take the picture.”

She obeys, her chest stilling as she holds her breath. I hear the click of her camera, before her eyes slide to mine. Then she tosses her phone to the side, tugging me to her harshly.

“You’re the girl of my fucking dreams, I hope you know that,” she mutters, kissing me ravenously, hands roaming my body possessively.

“Mmmm, what are you gonna do with those pictures?” I ask.

“What do you think?” She grins, gripping my ass harshly.

“Say it,” I pant, knowing full well what she’s going to do with those pictures. But I want to hear it - no, I need to hear the admission from her mouth.

“Gonna fuck myself to them.”

“Oh, yeah?” The thought of it, of her long fingers sliding between her legs, doing to her what I do to her… it’s fucking gluttonous.

“Gonna get off to your perfect fucking tits, you like the sound of that?” She’s instigating, borderline begging me to slot my legs between hers and just ride her.

“You wanna show me how in the shower?” I ask suggestively, placing a kiss at her jaw and then peppering them down her neck. Paige draws back, eyes wide as she stares at me.

Then she practically shoves me off the bed, pushing me towards the bathroom.

*******

“I’m sorry.”

“I said it was fine, Paige.”

“Yeah, but the way you’re saying it doesn’t seem like it’s fine, dude.”

“How would you like me to say it, Paige? Huh? Please - tell me exactly how you would like me to say it, and I’ll do that. Okay?!” I know I’m being snippy at her, and she’s apologized a hundred times, but I’ve never missed one of her basketball games. Ever. At least not one as important as a state championship.

She knew that Michigan scouts would be at this one, and though I had already signed to dance for them, this would determine my placing on the squad my freshman year. It needed to be perfect.

I needed my rock.

So when I’d looked out in the audience, and I hadn’t seen her, I’d spiraled. The panic had settled over me, and I was lucky my autopilot kicked in on stage, because internally, I was freaking out. I just needed to see her. That was all I needed, to feel the calm of her presence wash over me, to know my person was in my corner when I needed her most.

“You’re being a bitch,” she snaps.

I glower at her. “I’m the bitch? Oh, I’m the bitch now?”

She steps to me, towering over me, her breath hitting my face. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“You could’ve told me beforehand,” I seethe. “You could’ve not made me feel like an idiot for- for searching for you in the crowd when you weren’t even fucking there!”

“Just like how you’ve made me feel like an idiot these past two months?!”

“Oh, don’t even fucking start-”

“No, I’m gonna start! I’m gonna fucking start, Maya, because you have no idea the kind of hell I was living in!”

“We’re done! We’ve been done for a week!”

“Two fucking months! I had to watch her kiss you and hold you and dance with you at my fucking high school prom! Did it ever occur to you, maybe even for a second, that maybe I wanted to do all that shit? That I wanted to buy your stupid fucking corsage and match our fucking outfits and make you a dumbass poster because I’m so fucking in love with you?!”

“You… what?” My room falls silent, echoes of the argument fading away.

I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe. “Paige,” I muster out. “What did you just say?”

She hesitates, eyes evading my own. “I love you,” she spits out. “Nothing I haven’t said before.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

“Fine! I’m in love with you, alright?”

I choke out a laugh, my voice still thick with tears. “You stupid idiot,” I smile affectionately.

“The worst thing she can say is no, they said,” she mutters to herself, still avoiding my gaze.

I shake my head, opening my arms. “Come here,” I sigh, and she stalks over reluctantly.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in her scent. “Are you deadass not saying it back?” She demands, and I laugh.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

*******

“You look so beautiful in my clothes,” Paige mumbles, looping her arms around my waist and placing her chin on my shoulder as I finish touching up my makeup. “You’re such a kiss-ass,” I mutter fondly. “You liiiiike it,” she sing songs into my ear. I elbow her sharply in the stomach, and she lets out a dramatic “oomph!”. “Go get ready,” I tell her, and she frowns at me in the mirror.

“My girl so mean to me,” she complains under her breath. I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters at that phrase. My girl.

I guess I am. Her girl, that is. I hardly think I ever really stopped.

Paige reappears in a white crop top and loose black jeans, sunglasses perched atop her head. I let out a low whistle at her in the mirror. She smirks at me. “You see something you like?” I nod, grinning mischievously. “Those glasses are sick. Can I have them?”

She scoffs at this and I edge past her out of the bathroom. “You’re such an asshole,” she complains. “That’s not what you were saying last night!” I yell back at her, digging through her closet. I pick out a stretchy, body-con black dress - one of the few really girly things Paige owns, and emerge with it in hand.

I quickly change, pretending not to notice the heat of her eyes on me. “Stop staring, you perv,” I toss over my shoulder, slipping the dress on. “You are not all that,” she shoots back, but I know her better. I stand up straight, smoothing down the dress, and take a look in the mirror. Eh. It’ll suffice.

“Not all that?” I muse, turning to Paige. Her arms are crossed stubbornly, but her eyes trail over my body. “Delete those pictures, then.” She rolls her eyes. “Get in the damn car,” she snaps playfully, exiting her room.

Paige drives us back to Azzi’s house, blasting some absurd amalgamation of Polo G and Rod Wave. I fight her for aux, comfortably folding my feet up into the seat. It takes me back to driving back from Drew and Matt’s rec games, or late night runs to Sonic for milkshakes back in Minnesota. “You needa go home after this, or..?” I twist my mouth. “Yeah, probably,” I sigh. Her hand lands on my knee, a securing weight that flushes me with warmth. “Your mom worried?” She wonders.

“You know her,” I mumble. Surprisingly enough, once I’d told my mom I was with Paige, she seemed okay with me having been gone for almost a full 48 hours. I open my mouth, then close it, hesitating. “You can stay at mine?” I suggest. She smiles at me, her face lighting up when her eyes flit from the road to me. “Really? You’re deadass?” I suck my teeth, nodding, then point an accusing finger at her. “Don’t make this a thing.”

“I’m not making it a thing!” She protests.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I can see it in your face. You’re making it a thing,” I grumble.

Paige sighs, moving her hand to lace her fingers with mine as we slow to a stop at a red light. She presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, deliberately holding my gaze, before pressing on the gas pedal again.

“Only thing I’m tryna make a thing is us, ma,” she intones, her gaze straight ahead, but a triumphant little smirk ghosting at her lips. I groan, detangling our fingers and throwing her hand back to her side of the car. “Oh, my God!”

“What? That was smooth!” She laughs.

“That was so fucking corny!” I complain.

“You know, what I didn’t miss is this attitude,” she tells me, shooting me a look as she pulls into Azzi’s neighborhood. I stick my tongue out at her, and she gives me a shove.

It’s… domestic in a sense - this rhythm between us. The banter, the touches - they feel like a choreographed dance. Because there’s still no one who knows me better than her. No one knows every part of me like she does. I stare at her as she unbuckles her seatbelt, biceps tensing.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. She glances at me, brows furrowed. “What? It’s chill, bro, I was playing.” I smack her shoulder lightly. “Not for that,” I hiss. “For… For putting you through that. Back in high school. You deserved better. I’ve been… blaming you all this time for giving up on us.”

She’s quiet, floundering for words, so I push on. “I’m the one who started our relationship like that. I shouldn’t have… placed all those expectations on you. And… and our first time being while I was with another girl - fuck, Paige, I didn’t even give us a fighting chance. I’m sorry,” I choke the last word out, suddenly emotional at the fact that the past day could have been the past few years.

“Hey, hey…” Paige says reassuringly. “Mai, it’s not your fault. Hey, look at me.”

Her hand cups my face, thumb brushing at my lower lash line. “We both fucked up. It’s not all on you.” I shake my head, sighing dejectedly.

“We were kids, dude. We were stupid and immature and we fucked up - I fucked up. I let you walk away, and I’ve regretted it every fucking day since. But this is… it’s forever. You have to know that.”

“Mai.”

I look at her, finally, and nod shakily. “Yeah. I do.”

She smiles softly, kissing my cheek. “Good. Let’s go inside, yeah?” And the second her hand slips into mine, my worries and insecurities fade into nothing.

Azzi’s house is raucous, Paige’s teammates’ laughter echoing off the walls over the loud music blaring in the background. There’s bottles upon bottles of every type of alcohol imaginable lined on Azzi’s counters. She hugs me tight when she sees me, smelling soft and sweet. “It’s good to see you again,” she tells me, smiling at me. I grin back at her. “You, too.”

Paige slings an arm around my shoulders. “Get my girl a drink,” she tells her teammate. Azzi rolls her eyes. “What do you want?” She asks me kindly. I loop an arm around Paige’s torso. “The exact opposite of whatever she’s having, please,” I reply, crinkling my nose. Azzi laughs when Paige looks at me and feigns offense. “I knew I liked you.”

A few hours into the ordeal, Paige is impressed with how much I drink, and I laugh at her shock. “You forget that my school is actually good at football. This is a full-time job, baby!” I hoot, about three drinks in. Ice tilts a bottle of tequila in my direction, and I whoop, grabbing for the salt on the counter and a lime. “Fill me up!” I cheer. I feel loose and free around Paige’s friends, and even more comfortable when Paige’s hand snakes around my waist. She presses a sloppy kiss to my shoulder, and I laugh happily, patting her cheek.

“Shot, P! Come on, come on! You have to catch up!” I gesture for Ice to pour Paige one, too. She obliges. I dust salt onto the backs of our hands. Then I get it done in one fell swoop: lick off the salt, grab a lime wedge, and shoot back the tequila. I cough as it burns down my throat, sucking quickly on the lime. Paige gags behind me, gesturing for a wedge that I shove into her mouth, giggling.

I watch as her face puckers at the sudden tartness, lithe fingers pulling it from her mouth. She tips her head back, and I take the time to take in the sharp angle of her jawline. Her head lolls back down, eyes seeking and meeting mine. Suddenly, it’s just the two of us in the room, the chatter and din fading into the background.

“Hi,” I say softly. She smiles down at me. “Hey,” she replies.

Ice coughs. “Y’all gonna fuck, or..?”

Paige splutters at her teammate, and I laugh good-naturedly, patting her arm reassuringly.

We all pile into Ayanna and Aubrey’s cars, heading to a club in Virginia Beach for the night. The strobe lights are piercing, but Paige’s hand at my waist is steadying. It’s all too good to be true - the fact that I even get to be this close to her again, the feeling of her body against mine, her hands all over me, her lips against my ear.

I wonder, for a moment, how the hell I made it three years without this, because now that I’ve tasted it, now that I’ve had her… I can’t imagine not having her.

Being with her is like going a hundred miles an hour down a highway at midnight, standing up through the sunroof, feeling the cold wind biting at your skin and staring at the stars, thanking God that you get to be alive at the same time as something so goddamn beautiful.

And you’re so delirious and happy and you’re going so fucking fast… you don’t even see the crash coming.

I sure don’t.

I’m drunk, falling against Paige, and she’s laughing, steadying me. “You good, ma? Can I get you some water?” She yells into my ear. I loop my arms around her neck. “My girl is sooooo good to me,” I slur, smiling stupidly. She matches my goofy expression. “Say that again!” She calls.

I laugh, throwing my head back happily. “My girl!” I yell gleefully, and Paige presses me to her. Her lips find my ear again, and she says, “Come on. Time for water.” Then she places the sweetest kiss on my temple, and my heart just about bursts. I let her guide me to the bar, slumping onto a bar stool while she goes off to hunt for water.

I focus on the spinning lights above me, watching them change colors. I’m so drunk and distracted that I must watch them spin for ten minutes. Maybe an hour? Fuck, maybe I’ve been here all night.

Shit, I think dizzily. Paige must be worried.

I should find her.

I stumble through the bar, my legs wobbling. My head pounds from the music and the alcohol, and I’m so drunk that I really think I must be imagining what I see next.

It’s Paige.

There’s some girl with her. I think for a moment that she’s far too short to be any of Paige’s teammates, and that none of them are redheads.

Then the girl places a hand on Paige’s chest. I’m frozen in place, watching it all unfold, feeling my heart clench and then shatter to fucking smithereens as the girl stands on her tiptoes.

And she kisses her.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk #paige bueckers smut

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schwarzkatje · 2 days

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abby x chubby!reader - a very self indulgent scenario

warning: just so you know, this contains obviously mentions of descriptions regarding body parts so if this is a trigger i advise you don't read this.

i believe abby to be one of those butches who absolutely go feral for fuller, chubbier women.

this goes hand in hand with my previous headcanon/scenario in which i explored abby's breeding kink. because once you gain weight and your breasts gets bigger, your thighs become plushier and your stomach forms that slightly hanging portion of skin adorned in your frilly and feminine dresses, abby is ashamed to admit to even herself the undeniable effect she experiences.

she doubts if what she is doing is really offensive to you because she wonders whether this can fall into the category of objectification. therefore, abby has to mentally remind herself to not be a creep and to divert her gaze from you.

her thoughts are at constant fight as one part of herself blames a morbid perversion that has to be kept on check, but just as the other part sketches the idea of it being nothing but an harmless preference in her partners.

that being said, the semblance of self control that she had built with such an effort completely shatters when you two actually interact with each other. your inclination for shirts and dresses that showed your soft chest in just the perfect way to make abby's head spin is the cherry on top of this insane obsession she has to continuously push back.

it really doesn't take much for abby to have images flashing in her head displaying her taking one of your breasts in her hand and the other under the torturous treatment of her tongue and teeth, responsible for the purple love bites scattered all over your upper body.

following suit, the scenario alone of you on your back as abby spreads your legs and brings them to yourself, bending you in half and thus highlighting the delicious rolls of your stomach causes a wet patch to form in her underwear and an undetectable twitch of her legs, squeezing to maintain the facade of a normal person who doesn't get turned on as easily as an hormonal teenager would.

one day you two are sitting together and it pains abby to not be able to handle looking at you without the need to shy away and focus on anything that isn't you. and if she manages to avoid the sight of you, your laugh and the touches you give her are daggers piercing through her shield. she is aware of how awkward she actually acts and how impossible it would have been for you to not notice at some point.

when you place your smooth hand above her own – which abby had put on her knee – her breath halts and before she can apply some rationality she turns to you, finding you are closer than her senses had detected.

your eyes are so big and innocent and full of joy and... seducing, she observes.

"abby..." despite your firm gaze, her name comes out of your mouth as a whisper capable of making her hand on the knee grip it forcefully, not minding that this is definitely giving her off.

"i've been wanting to ask you this for quite some time," you unforgivably continue "but why do i feel like we're growing apart?" the content your inquiry is that of an unspeakable sorrow and fear of losing a dear person, but the tone in which it is asked exudes a neediness for something beyond simple reassurance. you bite your lips as abby is speechless before your question and your vicinity – what in the hell is happening? is she imagining things like she always does?

her attempt at assembling a sentence proves to be a failure when all you can hear is something along the lines of "no", "of course not", without any addition of the reason behind that.

"i wouldn't be here with you right now were it the case," is the best she manages to say as she tries to laugh it off with a shy grimace feigning a confidence that is long gone the moment you are in her presence.

"but then why are you always so stiff when i hug you? you don't even come up with ideas for what to do together like we used to," your heartbeat quickens, dwelling in an uncertain place between genuine hurt and sinful arousal for abby's shyness and difficulty in approaching you.

"i- i haven't really noticed anything different, maybe it's just that i've been busy but i'm not avoiding you, i mean–" she is cut short by your voice interrupting her and your face inching closer and closer to the point where she can see the shape of your lips with the corner of her eye.

"do i make you uneasy, abby?" and why do you have to lean forward and have your breasts already tightened by your corset invade her visual field. "and to think i've been wearing this for you," now your knee is touching hers, your dress leaving your thighs exposed the more you draw near, "hoping you would take it off," what on earth— "or, even better, you would have fucked me in it..."

what kind of absurd dream is she in?

#abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson

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thatacotargirl · 3 days

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Shadows and Surprises (4)

Part 4 of Azriel x Reader fanfic! I hope you are all enjoying - please let me know your thoughts! I am going to try and post these chapters on Sundays from now on.

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Warnings: pregnancy.

Tag list - @mirandasidefics @lilah-asteria @nyxbranwenn @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @impossibelle @mybestfriendmademe @minnieoo @hauntedstudentobservationus @st4r-girl-official

Azriel's POV

Azriel had absolutely no idea how this dinner was going to go. Truth be told, he expected you to politely decline and to take your dinner in your bedroom, give yourself some time to adjust to the change of pace your life had taken so suddenly that day. You surprised him once again - but that's what you seemed to do to him. Surprise him. You surprised him by taking an interest in him at Rita's that night, allowing him to tentatively approach you and offer to buy you a drink. You surprised him with a baby, his child. You surprised him by allowing him to not only be part of his child's life so easily, as if you hadn't only known him for a few drunken hours, and in turn, to be part of his life. He wasn't sure that his emotions had really settled down and processed the day - but he felt, deep down, that he quite liked your surprising nature.

Azriel offered you his arm and walked you slowly to the dining room in a comfortable silence; although he felt your body tense as you both approached the door and heard the laughter and chatter behind. He gave you a look - an offer to turn back - but you took a deep breath and nodded towards the door. Azriel opened it, and everyone went silent.

As you walked towards the 2 empty seats on the table, Cassian bounced out of his chair and walked towards y/n, giving her a bear hug.

"How are you feeling, y/n? Are you sure you're not too tired?" he asked, glancing down at your stomach. You chuckled. Y/n had no idea what she was in for living here with him and Cassian - both quickly becoming Mother Hens to y/n and the unborn child.

Y/n laughed in response, giving Cassian a gentle shove on the shoulder. "I'm fine, Cassian, thank you". You had seemed to ease quite a bit with Cassian's presence - perhaps because you felt you had more than one person in your corner. For some reason, Azriel felt a pang of jealousy at how quickly Cassian was able to put you at peace. He pushed the feeling down and guided you by the elbow to your seat.

Mor, however, had other plans - bounding over to y/n and pulling her back up out of her chair and into a hug.

"It is so nice to meet you, y/n! Azriel had a lot to say about you after your little tusk that night post-Rita's", Mor winked. Azriel went bright red, but y/n only laughed.

"Clearly he had a lot more than just things to say", y/n replied, gesturing at her stomach. There was a brief, silent pause; and Azriel held his breath. The pause broke almost immediately,though, as the entire table bursting out into a fit of laughter at your joke. Azriel felt himself relax a bit into his chair, feeling the initial awkward atmosphere dissipating.

Amren didn't stand, instead holding up her glass in gesture to y/n. "Pleasure to meet you", she calls out, taking a long gulp of her drink. Y/n replied kindly, and took her seat at the table. The House produced platters upon platters and everyone dished themselves a plate.

Dinner went forward as uneventful as it could have been. Jokes were passed, at Azriel's expense, and y/n was questioned relentlessly by Mor about her pregnancy and the baby, but there was a comfortable aura in the room and that was all he could have hoped for.

"Is it a boy or a girl?", Mor asked, having dragged her chair around the table after the meal to sit in front of y/n, her hands resting on y/n's swollen stomach.

"I have no idea! Madja said it is impossible to know, but there are some potential indications. I had a rough first trimester, which Madja said is more like a girl - but I also get headaches a lot - which is more like a boy".

"Az, what do you think?", Mor asked, her hands not leaving the small bump.

"I don't mind as long as they are healthy", he replied, watching in awe as Mor placed her head against the bump to try and listen in. Azriel realised that Mor was touching the baby bump before he had and felt that surge of jealousy rear its ugly head once more.

"And that they have wings", Cassian grinned.

"Ah, they do have wings", y/n replied nonchalantly, not realising quite how important that fact would be for the 3 males sat at the table. They all exchanged big smiles, thinking about the day they would be able to take Azriel's son or daughter, their nephew or niece, out to the forest to learn how to fly. Y/n looked up and smiled in response.

"For a 50/50 chance, we got lucky then", Cassian said, raising his own glass upwards in thanks to the Mother. Y/n smiled at him, but Azriel didn't miss the slight glassy-eyed look she had, the way her smile faltered if only for a millisecond and, when she recovered it, the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Azriel watched as Mor peppered y/n with more questions about pregnancy and the baby, and noticed as y/n's shoulders began to sag slightly with exhaustion. You had also noticed that Rhys was more withdrawn than usual, offering his input into the conversation less than he would normally. Since he had come back from under the mountain, you knew there was something he was holding back, but never wanted to push your brother more than he was comfortable with. You had let him know you were there for him, and would wait.

"I think it's time we head up for the night", he said, standing and offering a hand to y/n. He saw the grateful look in your eye as you accepted.

"Thank you for a wonderful dinner", y/n said, giving Mor, Cassian and Rhys another hug each and Amren a small wave before walking to the door.

"Tomorrow?", Mor called after them. Y/n turned to give Mor a nod, and walked up the stairs ahead of Azriel.

"What's tomorrow?", he asked.

"Mor has asked me to go shopping with her for some maternity clothes and perhaps some bits for the baby. I know we have months to go, but we can't be too prepared I suppose. Plus, she was so excited, I didn't have the heart to turn her down".

Azriel felt the pang again. He hadn't even placed a hand on the swollen bump where his unborn child was growing, and Mor was already taking you shopping for baby items?

"Can I join?", he asked, before he could stop himself. Y/n faltered on the stairs.

"Would you want to?".

"Of course I would, why would you think I wouldn't?".

Y/n looked at the floor, cheeks blushing a deep red. "I just didn't think you'd be interested in going shopping". Azriel could tell that wasn't the real reason, but the deepness of the red your cheeks had gone told him that you weren't comfortable enough to share the reason just yet.

"I'd like to come, if that's ok", he replied, placing a hand on y/n's lower back to gentle guide their direction back towards the stairs and to their bedrooms.

"Yes, I'd like that", y/n replied, face still a deep shade of crimson. "Thank you for tonight, and for everything Az, I really appreciate it".

"You're more than welcome".

When he reached y/n's door, Azriel didn't know the correct way to say goodbye. Does he hug you? Offer you a kiss on the cheek? The hand? High-five you? He opted for a light squeeze on your bicep.

"Shout if you need anything".

Y/n nodded and departed behind the bedroom door, leaving Azriel alone in the hallway.

Y/N POV

"Mor. No", y/n said, watching Mor pull a slinky emerald green dress from the rack.

"What?! It says it's maternity!".

Y/n couldn't even grace Mor with a response. The dress, if it could even be called a dress, was just lines of emerald green velvet ribbon which showed off more than it covered. A beautiful dress, but not an everyday maternity dress.

They had been shopping for hours now, Azriel in tow holding the bags, and y/n had begun to get tired. With a beautiful new wardrobe of maternity clothes courtesy of Rhysand's card, it had been a successful shop. They had looked at baby items and started a list of things you would need, but they hadn't picked up anything to buy today. You were looking for the perfect first item to buy your baby and hadn't quite found it.

"I think I need to call it a day, Mor", you say, struggling to pull yourself up off the store sofa. Azriel and Mor rush to your side, each taking an arm and helping you to your feet. You chuckle.

"If I am this bad at only 4 months, wait until I'm 8". Mor laughs, but Azriel looks at you with a fierce expression on his face.

"Then I will carry you".

You gape at him, but Mor only laughs at how serious Azriel's face was.

"Az, she will be fine".

Azriel didn't look the slightest bit convinced. He picked up all the bags and followed you and Mor out of the shop and towards the House of Wind. Mor winnowed up, taking the bags with her, whilst Azriel flew you - careful to mind your stomach. You had noticed his apprehension about your stomach and it made you uneasy. He almost seemed, apprehensive, of it?

Once upstairs, Mor kissed your cheek and winnowed home, leaving you and Azriel. You left the bags in the living room, too tired to deal with them now, and made your way to your bedroom. You had just taken your makeup off and got yourself into bed when you hear a knock at the door.

"Come in".

Azriel walks in, a tray in hand. He places it next to you on the bed, and you are delighted to see it brimming with delicious food and your indigestion tonic. You pat the space next to you on the bed, inviting Azriel to join, and tuck in. You notice him walk over slowly, almost as if giving you an out to change your mind and send him away, before he sighed and climbed carefully on to the bed next to you. He watched as you finished the food he had prepared and took a dose of your tonic, settling back on the pillows.

"How are you feeling?", he asked.

"Tired, I didn't realise how exhausting it was to grow a baby. Everything hurts all the time".

"What is hurting now?" concern lacing his voice. You sigh.

"My legs, my feet, my lower back, my shoulders. Turns out carrying around another small human does a number on you".

Without a word, Azriel pulls the covers down from your body and moves to sit at the end of the bed. Taking your legs and placing them in his lap. He starts to rub them and you let out a contented grunt. You stay like that, in silence, for a while - Azriel taking the time to release the pressure you felt from a day of walking around the shops.

"Az?", you ask quietly. He looks to you and raises a brow.

"Why haven't you touched the bump?".

He stills.

"I- I didn't want to upset you or offend you".

You stare at him. Upset or offend you? It's just as much his child in there as it is yours! Your face softens as you take in his, his eyes longingly looking at the swelling.

"You can, Az".

Azriel moves slowly to sit next to you again. You see his scarred hands shake as he places them on his legs, as if considering how to do this. You know there is a story there, a traumatic one, but you don't want to push Azriel to tell. You see him reach one hand out and gently place it on the centre of your stomach, his eyes glancing to you to make sure you are ok with it. You nod, encouraging him to continue. He reaches out the other and cups your stomach. He stays there a while, looking both content and unsure all at once, before he looks to you and smiles.

"Thank you".

Your heart almost breaks.

"Az, you don't need to thank me. This is your child. You can do this any time you want". He nods, his stoic Spymaster face back on as he returns to the other end of the bed and picks your legs back up.

"Keep this up, Az, and I'm going to fall asleep".

He grins at you - "that's the aim".

You give him a half-lidded smile as you feel your eyes forcing themselves shut and your body sinking into the bed.

Azriel POV

Azriel keeps up his massage until your breathing becomes slow and steady. He looks up to see you sleeping peacefully, your hair fanned out across the pillows. He smiles, and glances down at your bump, still uncovered by the duvet and peeking out of your pyjama top.

He still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that you were here, pregnant, with his child. He didn't think it would sink in for quite some time.

Slowly, he moves himself up the bed towards you, careful not to wake you, and places his hands gently on the bump. Resting his head on the bed, he turns to face your stomach.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad".

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