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dragonsgf · 1 day ago

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➵ 𓊆ᴍʏ sᴛᴀʀ𓊇

stalker Xavier au!

possessive behavior, obsession, jealousy, a little spicy

[ #LoveandDeepspace #Xavier ]

Chapter 1

Xavier has always been a good friend to you. He was kind and polite, and he didn’t talk much, but the both of you always managed to keep the conversation going. Besides being colleagues at the Hunters Association, you two were also neighbors, so you spent a lot of time together, which, consequently, formed a closer bond between you and him.

You’ve considered Xavier one of your best friends for a while now. You started to talk more when you were on missions together, and a couple of months later, you were planning movie nights and picnics on days the color of the sky was bluer than his eyes. Since his apartment was directly above yours, you would visit each other almost every day to play video games or order takeout. Sometimes, Xavier would fall asleep on your couch while you two watched a movie, but he looked so peaceful when dreaming that you could never muster the courage to wake him up. You’ve talked to him once about it, saying that he didn’t have to leave and that he could stay the night, so that you two could have breakfast together in the morning.

“It’s ok, I can always come downstairs to have breakfast with you anyway,” Xavier responded mid-yawn. You didn’t want to insist too much because, for some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable staying the night. Once, you even asked him if your sofa was too uncomfortable to sleep on, but it was all in vain.

You two became so close that you gave each other the spare keys to your apartments in case of an emergency or if you just wanted to hang out: no one else had a spare key to your home, so this meant a lot to you. To be honest, you were glad Xavier was the one with it. You trusted him with your life - quite literally, since you were each other's partners in missions and he had saved you multiple times from a Wanderer that got too close.

You knew he would never betray your trust.

Since you’ve been doing extra hours that week, Captain Jenna let you go home earlier that day, and as you were walking home, you came across a civilian whom you had saved from a Wanderers’ attack a few weeks back: he was fully recovered now and seemed to be in good health. As you were walking, he stopped to greet you and thank you for saving him and his wife. It was nothing but a normal exchange of words with this stranger, whose name you didn’t even know. You must have been talking to him for no more than five minutes when suddenly your phone vibrated.

“Are U on Ur way home now? Its nice outside, we can chill on the balcony and enjoy the sun until dinner :)”

It was a text from Xavier. Odd. You hadn’t told him you were getting off work early. Your plan had been to swing by the bakery beneath your apartment, pick up a few snacks, and surprise him with a little impromptu picnic once you got home. You were sure of that - you hadn’t said a word to him about it. You pushed aside the confusion bubbling up and chalked it up to a possibility: maybe he’d heard something from Nero, Simone, or Tara. Though that in itself felt unlikely - Xavier never spent time with anyone from the association besides you. But maybe he was finally starting to open up… stepping out of his shell a little. Right?

When you got to your apartment complex, you texted Xavier saying that you’ll just take a quick shower, and when you were done, you would go immediately upstairs and meet him so you two could hang out. Before you got into the shower, you checked your phone. No response from Xavier, but beneath your text bubble you could see the word “read”. Xavier always replied to your texts, even just to say a simple “ok”, but maybe he was busy and couldn’t reply right now.

At least, he knew you were home.

After drying yourself and putting on clean clothes, you checked your phone again: no notifications from Xavier. As you opened the door of your bathroom, you heard commotion coming from your kitchen. The rattle of plates and cups could be heard, along with very soft footsteps, as if a 6-foot bunny was walking around the apartment. Your hunter’s gun wasn’t around: seriously, who takes a gun with them when showering? You looked around. What could be used to protect yourself?

As you stepped outside the bathroom, holding your hairdryer like a baseball bat, you tiptoed your way to the corner that would lead to the kitchen. You smelled something. Was the intruder eating the food you just bought? Your mind was running in circles, but you had no time to spare. As you turned the corner, ready to attack whoever was in your house if needed, you immediately stopped as you saw a blonde-haired man moving the food from your kitchen counter to your balcony.

“Xavier?”

He stopped mid-step. Startled, your dear neighbor was in your house holding a tray with all the food you got with both of his hands.

“Hi, sorry. I wanted to prepare a surprise for you.”

He said, in a nervous laugh, a light red color tinting his ears.

“I saw you arriving from my balcony before receiving your text. And you looked so exhausted, I wanted to do something special. I just thought I could be faster than you.”

“How did you know I brought food with me? You can’t see the bakery from your balcony.”

“You didn’t send me the text right away as you got here, so I figured you had something up your sleeve.”

He said, slowly making his way to your balcony to put down the tray.

All the worries left your body as you took a deep breath. It was just Xavier wanting to do something nice for you, and you couldn’t even get mad at him for scaring you when he had the most adorable, shy expression on his face. All you could do was let out a light giggle as you looked at him, since you caught him red-handed.

Xavier was always very thoughtful with you, and you couldn’t help but notice the special attention he gave only to you. Maybe it was because you two were partners or neighbors. Whatever it was, you enjoyed it more than you liked to admit.

You helped Xavier move the rest of the food and drinks to the balcony, as well as some pillows and blankets. After a day of work, this was all you needed (and wanted): a peaceful end to your day with someone you could just let your guard down.

Chapter 2

Since that day you encountered the civilian you had saved, you could feel a lingering presence everywhere you went. No, that’s a lie. You’ve felt this presence before, just not as regularly as you felt it now. It was starting to make you feel paranoid.

“It’s just the lack of sleep, calm down. Plus, you have your hunter’s gun; nothing can hurt you.”

This was what you told yourself. For weeks now, that’s what you kept repeating in your head on your way to work and back home, except on the days Xavier was with you. You felt safe around him, and maybe that feeling was just in your head because every time you were with Xavier, you didn’t feel the shadow creeping in the distance. But on the days you were walking alone, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It’s not that you felt better at home, if you thought about it. Recently, you started to receive random letters mixed with the rest of your mail. These were short and printed out, and put inside a blank envelope. Yes, blank because neither your address nor the sender’s were ever on these.

The first one you got, you thought it was a prank. “Ill never let U go” was written on it. You found it weird, but with no idea of who it was from, all you could do was ignore it. Then, there was a second blank envelope in your mailbox three days later. It read: “Ive searched for U for so long, and I have finally found U, my star.” Alright, now this one made you feel unsettled. What did this mean? Who could have been searching for you?

“My star?”

You said out loud, surprised by how loud your voice sounded in the deep silence that was your apartment. Again, you decided to ignore it, but this time you kept this letter in a drawer. Something about it didn’t seem right, and you had a gut feeling you should keep hold of it, just in case. Several days had now passed, and you had the drawer filled with these anonymous letters. You told yourself you would look into these, but lately, you just didn’t have the time; the past few weeks, you were either fighting Wanderers or sleeping.

It was a Tuesday morning when you arrived at the association, breathless. Lately, you started walking faster whenever you were alone, not that you meant to. You barely noticed the quickened pace until you reached your destination. It was pure instinct now. By this point, everyone at work had noticed how you always showed up with your lungs gasping for air. Still, you always had an excuse ready - your alarm didn’t go off, the subway was late, something or other. Thankfully, your coworkers had stopped asking. You were running out of believable lies.

It was a boring day at the association: there were no missions, just a pile of reports on top of your desk that you had been procrastinating on filing out for weeks. As you got to your seat, fanning your face with your hands as the sweat from almost running to work streamed down your face, you noticed a huge bouquet of blue Forget-Me-Not flowers. You stopped, alarmed, as you looked around the office.

“It was already here when I arrived, it looks like someone has a secret admirer!”

Nero said with a teasing tone in his voice. You shifted your gaze from him to the flowers, eyes wide open and mouth agape. Although you were sweating, you felt a chill run down your spine. You tried to say something, but you were still trying to catch your breath. There was a card attached to this unexpected gift.

“To my star. I hope U won’t ever forget me.”

“My star? Again?” you murmured. There was no signature. You flipped the card, but nothing, just the name of the flower shop. The handwriting didn’t tell you anything about who this could be from, but you recognized the writing style. Hesitant, you put the card inside your bag.

You nodded your head, trying to shake off your anxiety.

“It’s from a civilian I saved a while ago. I ran into him the other day, he and his wife just want to thank me.”

You said, forcing a smile and trying to calm your trembling hands. Even if it was that man, you couldn’t deal with gossip at the moment about you having a secret admirer, you were already as stressed as one can be, and you needed to focus on today’s tasks. Plus, the man was married, you wouldn’t feed into this if it truly was him. But you knew it wasn’t him. You had no evidence, you just knew.

You stretched in your office chair as it was already lunchtime without you realizing it. Although you had spent the whole morning sitting down filling out reports, your whole body was sore, as if you had just spent the last four hours fighting Wanderers.

You glanced out the window - the weather was beautiful that day, clear and inviting - so you decided to have lunch in the park near the association. Once there, you settled onto a bench, waiting for Tara to join you. Children darted across the grass in bursts of laughter, dogs chased each other in wide circles, and elderly couples basked in the warmth of the sun, hands intertwined and soft smiles. If only you could stay there all day, soaking in the peace, without a single care in the world.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of spring. As you opened your eyes, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. You could’ve sworn that you had just seen someone hiding behind a tree a couple of feet away from you: it was as fast as lightning, but you did see a tall, muscled figure moving. You swallowed your saliva; it was at this moment that you noticed how dry your mouth had gotten. Until now, you had managed to forget about all the nonsense that had been happening. You tried to ignore what you just saw, or what you thought you saw. But your eyes were fixated on the tree, waiting for any movement. Whoever it was had to step away and leave, right?

But you were growing impatient. Without breaking eye contact with your target, you rose to your feet and slowly made your way toward the tree. You were exhausted - tense, on edge - but you needed to know. You had to prove to yourself that you weren’t imagining things. Steadying your breath, you stepped around the trunk, bracing yourself for whatever - or whoever - was waiting on the other side.

“Hey! Thank you for waiting for me. I was not expecting to take so long, but I reeaaallyy needed to finish my report on last week’s mission. Is everything ok?”

You looked behind you, Tara was walking in your direction, waving at you. No, not now. You turned around again, but there was nothing, or you should say no one, behind the tree. In disbelief, you almost lost your balance, making Tara reach for you.

“Hey Tara. Sorry for the weird question, but on your way here, did you see someone behind this tree?”

Still grabbing your arm to keep you in place, Tara looked at you as if you had asked her if the sky was blue or if the grass was green.

“Uhhh, no. I didn’t see anyone. Why? Did you plan to meet with someone here?”

Chapter 3

Tara was the only one you’d confided in about the shadow that had been following you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your other friends - Xavier, for instance - but Tara had been the one to reach out. One day, she simply asked what was really going on. She mentioned how she, like everyone else, had noticed the deepening bags under your eyes. They all had - it was hard not to. Some of your peers even joked about it. But Tara saw more. She sensed it wasn’t just exhaustion or work stress. She knew something else was wrong. Thus, one day while the two of you were hanging out in your apartment, just the two of you, you told her everything.

You opened up to her about the unease that had been gnawing at you - the constant feeling of being watched. How every time you got home, you compulsively checked that the front door, balcony, and windows were locked, sometimes more than once. You spoke of the sleepless nights, how your body tossed and turned as much as your restless mind. You told Tara about the anonymous letters that had started to show up, the bouquets delivered to your workplace like clockwork each week, and the strange morning ritual: how an employee from the bakery downstairs would hand you a coffee just before you left for work, always with the same message - someone had ordered it for you, a gift.

“And believe me, I’ve asked countless times if the employees know who this person is, and they always give me the same answer: this random person puts an envelope in the bakery’s mailbox with the order’s name and money inside saying to give it to the “hunter lady that leaves for work at seven forty in the morning”. Once, I asked one of the girls who works there if she could show me the letter if they still had it, but that didn’t do anything because it was a printed-out letter. She told me every letter was the same, I guess the person just prints out the same thing over and over again. And it has to be the same person who keeps sending me the letters and the bouquets because look at this.”

You got up, went to your room, and took out all the letters from your drawer as well as the stack of florist cards that always accompanied the Forget-Me-Nots. You held out both stacks of papers you had now in your hands. Then, from inside your bag, you took the letter that the employee in the coffee shop gave you this morning. You showed your friend who sat next to you how, although you couldn’t get any clues from the handwriting itself, they had to be from the same person by the way some words were spelled.

“See how they spell 'you' the same way? And how they never use any apostrophes? Plus, they call me ‘their star’. None of these help me figure out who this person is because almost everyone writes like this when they’re texting a friend, and no one ever called me ‘star’ before.

At first, I didn’t think much about the letters, but I kept asking myself why they didn’t even have my address written down. And then I figured it out. They don’t need to write down the address because this person puts them directly in my mailbox.”

You could feel yourself getting more agitated. You didn’t know what to do. A sense of claustrophobia was starting to become part of your day-to-day life by constantly feeling like you’re being watched. It wasn’t just paranoia anymore - it was persistent, like a shadow that never quite left, no matter how many lights you turned on. Every creak of the floorboards, every flicker in your peripheral vision, sent your heart racing. Even silence felt loud, oppressive. Your own home had begun to feel like a cage, the walls somehow closer than they used to be. You kept catching yourself glancing over your shoulder, expecting to see something there… but there never was. Just the chilling certainty that something - or someone - was always a step behind.

Nothing was making sense. Who wants to get to you? Who was willing to give you this much attention? The dedication was commendable - unsettling, even. It wasn’t just a prank or some passing obsession. Everything had been calculated. Methodical. Someone had invested their time, effort, and precision. And for what?

After an hour or so of throwing theories at each other, you and Tara decided it was best to talk to someone at the association who could help you decipher this mystery. Maybe they could see something in the letters that you two didn’t. Despite it all, Tara made sure you knew you had her support and that you would get to the bottom of this.

She left, and you were now alone in your apartment. At least, you should feel that you were alone. You were in the place where you should feel the safest. Nothing can hurt you inside your own home, right?

You were about the go check if you had locked the front door when the doorbell rang.

*Ding*

Chapter 4

This startled you, and you hated how much it startled you. You were a hunter, and not just any random hunter; you were part of the Unicorn sector, who were rigorously selected by Captain Jenna and other higher-ups. Plus, you had been awarded as “hunter of the year” just a few months ago. You couldn’t let something as minuscule as a doorbell affect you this easily. That just couldn’t happen.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to glance at the peephole, but when you did, there was no one outside. How was there no one on the other side of your apartment door? The doorbell doesn’t ring by itself, and you were sure you heard it.

As you were about to turn, suddenly two hands grabbed you. It was so fast you almost tripped, but a tight embrace held you in place. You felt one arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest. Whoever it was, was pressing your body against theirs. You could feel every heartbeat, every inhale and every exhale this person took. Your hunter’s instincts kicked in, you pushed them forward, making them flip over you, but instead of making them fall onto the ground, they landed on their feet. You were about to kick them when they blocked your movement, grabbing your foot. Raising their eyes at you, you finally saw who it was.

“Xavier?”

Your eyes must have been deceiving you. What was Xavier doing in your apartment? Wait, how was Xavier in your apartment if every door and window were locked?

He raised his hands, his big blue eyes looking at you as innocent as ever.

“You didn’t answer your texts, I was worried about you.”

You knew that wasn’t the reason, or at least, the main reason why he was there.

“Explain yourself, Xavier. That reply won’t do.”

You had your wrists raised, ready to attack whenever. Your mind was running in circles, you were still trying to catch your breath, even if you had barely moved. Your heart was beating faster than ever before, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins. But Xavier was faster, before you realized he was behind you again, this time pressing you even tighter against himself, you could feel every inch of his body by how close you two were. You tried to get yourself free, fighting with all the strength you had, but to no avail. Xavier spun you around, pinning you against the wall. He grabbed both of your wrists, holding them above your head, one of his knees keeping you in place. Stuck between him and the wall, his forehead was against yours, your breaths mixing together. He was panting, his breath unstable, but, at the same time, Xavier looked as calm as ever.

“Please behave. No need to attack me. Aren’t we supposed to be partners?”

He wasn’t looking at you, but you could see how his soft blue eyes, which you always compared to the clear blue skies of a warm spring day, the eyes that always looked at you like you were brighter than all the stars in the universe, were now looking at you with the hunger of a starving ocean where waves fight with the wind, a fight with no winners.

Xavier looked at you like you were his next meal, like a famished carnivorous animal who’s been starving for months, days on end, looking for something to satiate his needs. But there was only one thing that could satisfy him. You.

Chapter 5

You and Xavier stayed in that position for a while, neither of you dared to move. You could feel the heat coming from his body, radiating in waves that made it hard to focus on anything else. The sweat running down his neck caught your eye, a single bead tracing the sharp line of his jaw before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. His whole body was tense, muscles coiled beneath his skin like he was holding something back - barely using any force on you, yet every inch of him vibrating with restrained energy.

“Xavier, what’s going on?”

Your voice was shaking, just as your whole body. Seeing Xavier like this was definitely something new - intense, unsettling, and something else you didn’t want to name just yet. His gaze flicked to yours, dark and unreadable, and it held you there. Not aggressively. Not even deliberately. Just… completely. Like he’d stepped into your space and taken the air with him.

You could hear your own pulse now - fast, loud in your ears - and still, neither of you moved. It was like the moment itself had thickened, pulled tight around the edges. There was a current between you, humming quietly under the surface, electric and confusing. You weren’t sure if he was about to walk away or pull you closer. And honestly, you weren’t sure which would be more enticing.

Amid the chaos of a million thoughts racing through both your minds, you laughed. It started as a small, involuntary giggle - something you’d been desperately trying to suppress since the moment Xavier first pulled you into him. But once it slipped out, there was no stopping it. The tension broke like a dam. You were laughing so hard that tears welled in your eyes, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. And every time you glanced at Xavier, his wide-eyed, bewildered expression frozen in a perfect mix of shock and concern, it only set you off again. It was absurd. It was cathartic. And for the first time in a while, it felt like relief. When you finally got a hold of yourself, a flicker of red poison could be seen in your eyes when looking at him, a smirk on your lips as the perfect accessory.

“Oh, please, Xavier. You really didn’t think I knew it was you from the beginning? You were so obvious with everything, I knew you wanted me to find out. I knew you felt a thrill inside you just thinking about it. That’s why I dragged it for so long, I wanted to make you wait. I wanted you desperate. And you fell right into my trap.”

Now it was Xavier who had agitation in his eyes. He stared at you as if your confession had short-circuited something in him, like he couldn’t quite process what you had just said. And seeing him like that - stunned, caught off guard - brought you a quiet simmering satisfaction. This was the moment you’d been waiting for.

Yes, he had been meticulous. Calculated. Always two steps ahead. But not as much as you.

You’d known from the moment he appeared in your apartment, carefully arranging your balcony picnic, that something was off. You could feel it - the way everything was too deliberate, how he had the answers to your questions on the tip of his tongue, as if he had rehearsed them. You knew he’d been waiting. Watching. You knew he had been waiting for you to leave work, that he saw you talking to that civilian. That was why he texted, urging you to come home. You could almost picture it: the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers hovered over his phone, how he must have almost ran to you and pushed you away from that man who dared speak to you, look at you. You knew the reason he didn’t reply to the text you sent when you got home was because he was too impatient even to waste a second replying to it when he could just go and see you, be with you.

Xavier never handled jealousy well. You noticed it every time - how his mood soured when another man spoke to you, how his eyes tracked you with an intensity that bordered on possessiveness. He could try to mask it with charm, with quiet restraint, but the truth always leaked through the cracks. And you knew, eventually, he would break. And he had.

You loved teasing Xavier. That’s all it was - or at least, that’s what you told yourself. There was something about his possessiveness that lit a spark in you, something that made your skin hum with anticipation. No one had ever been this clingy, this attentive, this obsessed - and you adored every second of it. That’s why you kept the letters. The cards that came with the flowers. Little mementos of his desperation. That’s why you kept accepting the coffee deliveries from the bakery downstairs, always smiling as you told the employees, “It’s from my friend Xavier,” just so the girls wouldn’t ask too many questions.

It was all part of the game. Like the drinks you planned with colleagues from the association - not because you craved the company, but because you wanted an excuse. A reason to flirt a little too much with some random guy, just enough to set Xavier off. You lived for that look on his face, the one that flared just before he’d drag you away and insist you “go home”.

You knew exactly how to push his buttons. That’s why every time you and Xavier watched a movie on your days off, you’d pretend to fall asleep - just so you could rest your head on his shoulder. Every time, without fail, you’d feel the subtle shift in his body, the way he tensed, the way something in him quite literally grew from even the softest, most innocent contact. You always had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling.

God, it was adorable - how hard he tried to hide it. How impossible it was for him to pretend he didn’t feel exactly what you knew he did.

Now that you were really looking at him, you had him exactly where you wanted - stunned and speechless. His grip on your wrists had loosened but you stayed in place, knowing exactly what that sight did to him. Your smirk was still in place. Even you couldn’t hide your satisfaction anymore, and the heat pooling between your legs was becoming impossible to ignore. Patience was running thin.

“So…how does it feel to have the light shine on you, my star?”

#love and deepspace #stalker #stalker xavier #lads shen xinghui #xavier x mc #lads xavier #xavier x reader #jealousy #obsessive behavior #i love desperate men #dark xavier #a little spicy #psychological #possessive behavior

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scarletfasinera · 2 years ago

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Literally. Be vigilant I love you. Something beautiful is going to happen. True love is possible only in the next world—for new people. Tomorrow is just a whisper away. We refuse to accept that the world has to remain like this. It's the world and you're made of it, you can't be unmade now. This is somewhere to be, this is all you have but it's still something. Things can't go on like this forever; something will give, it always does. Comrades, the forsaken, the wretched, who tried to rise against the horrors of the world. She would die to return to it. One day I will return to your side. They're beautiful and true—and they will win. The future can be better than the past, if we're willing to work and fight and die for it. In dark times, should the stars also go out? I exist. I exist too.

#txt #literally i go and do something else for a while. for months. and then suddenly i'm like “man disco elysium was so good”#the tower stood for a moment and the insulindian phasmid exists and the future can be better than the past.#we believe it because it's impossible.#and by believing in it we make the impossible possible #this game is about HOPE it is about the FUTURE it is about COMMUNISM!!!!!!#I love you inframaterialism I love you Mazovian Socio-Economics I love you Girl Child Revolution I love you Insulindian Phasmid #disco elysium #I originally didn't out this in the tag but it's been a year & a half and it still got 1k notes so I think it's fine to put it in my DE tag #for archival purposes now

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florestalio · 4 months ago

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INSATIABLE NEEDS — p.sh

you had always found your best friend attractive, who wouldn't? but perhaps, him being so close to you when you were ovulating... wasn't the best idea. after all, a harmless crush can lead to being dangerously close to toeing the line of friendship.

GENRE— porn with little plot, friends to ???

WARNINGS— unprotected sex (don't!), reader is extremely horny, reader is so down bad for sunghoon it's almost embarrassing, reader isn't as subtle as she thinks, sunghoon is a cocky little shit, fingering, mirror sex (?), pussy slapping, cum eating, missionary, bondage, let me know if i missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 3.6k

NOTE— this is a REVAMP of this bnd fic. since i'm on hiatus, and probs won't be able to publish anything else for two months...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

a soft groan fell from sunghoon’s lips, as you continued to read your book, despite him being literally two feet away from you — that too on the same bed. what could that stupid book possibly contain, that you were completely ignoring his presence?

he groaned again. “can you please put that damn book aside and pay attention to me instead? we were supposed to hang out, not be busy reading stupid books–”

you rolled your eyes. “we weren’t ‘supposed’ to do anything. you came to my apartment of your own accord, went straight to my bedroom, and plopped down on my bed, expecting me to entertain you — it’s not my fault that you can’t find the entertainment you wanted from me.”

yes, maybe you were being a little harsh. but then again, he deserved it. you were ovulating — really bad at that — and were peacefully watching certain… videos on twitter, when he suddenly rang the bell to your apartment. of course you were gonna be mad at him. guaranteed, he had no idea. but that can’t stop you from being petty, can it? not to mention that the book you were reading was one of the best smut books ever, so you had at least had something to distract yourself from the current dilemma with — but he was hellbent on trying to get you to ditch that as well, just to make you pay attention to him.

distract yourself from what, exactly? why, it’s your best friend, of course.

you had always found him attractive, who wouldn’t? but now that you were ovulating… the images in your head starring him were… unholy in the least.

you needed the distraction. everyone knows that a girl ovulating, while being in the presence of a guy who she is even slightly attracted to, can be very, very dangerous. especially if said guy is a good friend. toeing the line of friendship is never a good idea, especially with sunghoon. you weren't willing to lose him forever, just to satisfy your temporary needs… even if he was making it really difficult for you to not pounce on him.

you never thought a band aid on someone's cheek could be that attractive, combined with his all black outfit and the lollipop in his mouth. the way he kept swirling his tongue over the candy? god, you were definitely going to hell from the thoughts you were having about him.

a scoff from your best friend snapped you out of your daydreams. “okay, maybe i came uninvited. but isn't it common courtesy for you to not blatantly ignore someone right in front of you? or is that book of yours so engaging that you forgot basic etiquettes?”

oh, how you wished to yell at him and say that yes, the book really was that engaging. how you wished to recreate the absolutely mouth-watering smut scenes in the book with him–

okay, you really needed to get a grip over yourself.

you cleared your throat. “fine, i'll keep the book down, but i don't know how to entertain you.” true to your word, you kept the book down, the uncomfortable heat that had been long since pooling into your lower stomach, not fading in the slightest. in fact, the more you looked at him, the more the heat intensified.

he rolled his eyes, speaking in an irritated voice. “it’s not like you aren't enjoying yourself right now, is it?”

you couldn't understand if it was because you were ovulating, or if he was doing it purposely — but something about the tone of his voice was so fucking hot — you could feel even more heat starting to pool into your lower stomach, your panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably. you spoke in a slightly shaky voice. “w-what is that supposed to mean?–”

sunghoon took the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud ‘pop’, before speaking with an accusatory tone. “don’t play dumb with me. you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

…there was absolutely no way you were growing wetter at his tone. since when did he sound so… hot while accusing you? and why were you enjoying it?

you didn’t even know what he was accusing you of. all you could concentrate on was his slight smirk and the cocky gleam in his eye. you couldn’t tell why he was looking at you the way he was, but you knew he was up to no good.

but even when you predicted that, his next few words still managed to make your blood run cold. “stop pretending like i can't see you rubbing your cute thighs together. i'm not blind, you know.”

your jaw dropped, staring at him with eyes that were wide open in horror. he noticed?! god, so now he thinks you're a pervert — which, given your behavior, wouldn't be wrong — but still–

you didn't know how you still had the audacity to play dumb, but you did. “i-i don't know what you're talking about–”

you were cut off with a loud scoff from him. he gave you an incredulous look, speaking in a condescending tone, paired with sheer disbelief, letting you know that he didn't buy your bullshit. “you don't know what i'm talking about?”

you gulped, your thighs unintentionally pressing together even harder to prevent a fresh wave of slick from trickling down your hole. “n-no?–”

he let out a disappointed sigh, which seemed to be more of a mocking gesture than a genuine reaction of disappointment. “so you aren't going to admit it on your own. that's okay, i can always make you admit it.”

without a warning, he wrapped a hand around your ankle, yanking you towards him. you screamed out loud from utter shock. before you could say anything, he pulled you up, wrapping a hand around your waist so that you were pressed flush to his chest. he spread his legs, settling you in between them, before turning you, pressing your back to his chest. sunghoon grabbed your chin, pulling it up, so that your eyes stared right into your own in the mirror on the far end of your room.

your eyes trailed to his own in the mirror, shocked to see his expression. his eyes had darkened, slightly hooded eyes staring straight into your soul. you had never seen your best friend like that, but today… safe to say your thighs clenched again, your panties surely drenched by now.

you gulped, noticing a slight smirk on his face. he brought his lips closer to your ear, whispering softly. “tell me princess, are you still not going to admit it?”

his tone sent chills down your spine. you wanted to admit it so badly, wanted to let him know exactly how you needed him to rail you within an inch of your life — but then again, you wanted to find out what he would do if you didn’t give into his demands. what you guys were doing had already crossed all lines of friendship, it didn’t matter now if you guys went all the way anyways.

so you proceeded to lie. again. “i- i seriously don’t know what you’re talking a-about–”

he let out a disappointed sigh, — which sounded really condescending instead — before speaking again. “so you really have no idea, hm? you’re telling me you aren’t wet right now? hm?”

your breath hitched. fuck, this was really happening. “i- i’m not–”

you were cut off with a loud gasp, when he suddenly pressed two fingers right over your clothed cunt, the nearly drenched fabric soaking up more of your wetness. you couldn’t help yourself, letting out a choked moan, when he pressed them in even harder, effectively pushing the fabric deeper inside your puffy lips, even more slick dripping down out of you.

your best friend — could you even call him that anymore? — bit down on the lobe of your ear, before speaking again. “nasty little slut, aren’t you? soaking up your panties right in front of me, and yet you have the gall to lie to my face? acting all innocent too… was this what you actually wanted? for me to force an answer out of you? fuck, look at the way you’re clenching around my fingers, and they aren’t even inside you yet — we’re gonna have so much fun together princess…”

his last few words turned you on even more, — if that was even possible — falling out of his lips like a dark promise, a promise that he intended to keep. you still needed to answer him, so you did — only this time, all hesitation, all the ‘acting dumb’ was gone, replaced by pure, unadulterated, lust. “i’m s-sorry please — please, fuck me hoon–”

you couldn’t even complete your sentence, before he pulled his hand off your pants, opting to push the waistband of your shorts down instead. you didn’t even realize that you were lifting up your hips for him to shove them down your legs, your underwear following suit — only, instead of throwing it far away randomly in the room, he brought them to his nose, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep inhale.

his action caused your jaw to hang open in pure shock, eyes as wide as saucers — you were so unbelievably horny, all you wanted was to push him down to lie down on your bed, and ride him till the two of you were spent beyond salvation — but you knew he wouldn’t let you do that. he always liked to be assertive, which you were fine with — although right now you were growing impatient. you needed him, did he not understand that? you needed him so fucking bad, you would let him take you raw, breed the fuck out of you, fuck a baby into you–

at this point you didn’t even know if these were your own thoughts, or your ovulation fucking with your head. either way, you were filled with the thought of him, your mind chanting ‘sunghoon, sunghoon, sunghoon’ like a mantra, imprinting his name into the walls of your brain — which was funny, because he hadn’t even done anything to you yet — properly, that is.

speaking of, you just noticed him stuffing your soaked panties into his pocket, his hand coming to grip your chin again. he raised it to make you look into the mirror. you made eye contact with him in it, gulping at the look in his eyes. it was purely predatory, lust swimming in his irises like an insatiable hunger.

if you had any doubts about him not wanting you as much as you wanted him, your doubts were certainly all cleared now.

his hand left your chin, coming down to your impossibly wet cunt instead. he slid a finger over your slit, rubbing it up and down, collecting your abundant amount of slick on it. he watched in the mirror, completely fucking mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little pussy fluttering around his finger. he decided to use another finger, using both of his digits to part your folds, watching even more slick dripping out of your needy cunt. it was truly a sight, causing his bulge to strain against your back, a loud moan escaping you at the feeling. your head fell back on his shoulder, your eyes screwed shut from the feeling of him playing with you so lewdly — it was like a scene straight out of your dirtiest fantasies, one that you never imagined would actually happen in reality — but fuck, you were definitely not complaining.

you suddenly gasped out loud, your head jerking up, staring directly into his eyes in the mirror. your eyes were wide open in shock, from the impact of his slap on your impossibly wet pussy. your breathing had fastened, staring at him in pure shock. he scoffed at your expression, glaring at you through the mirror. “what? surprised? if you want me to continue, you better not remove your gaze — you’re going to watch as i make you fall apart on my fingers. if you avoid eye contact even once, i’m going to edge you the entire day — yes, the entire day. i’m not kidding in the slightest, princess, so you better keep those pretty eyes of yours peeled open if you want to cum at all.”

you swallowed thickly. this, this was what you needed. he was what you needed, he was all you needed. his tone, his words, everything was so fucking hot — you craved everything he could offer, and more.

but, in order to get a little bit of literally anything he had to offer, you needed to obey him. so you decided to comply, not removing your gaze even once from the mirror.

he plunged his fingers inside you without a warning, fucking them into you at a rough pace, drawing out loud squelching noises from your pussy. you let out the loudest moans and whimpers known to mankind at his rough pace, whining slightly, clenching and unclenching around his fingers. you arched your back to the best of your ability, letting out a loud whimper, when the calloused pads of his fingers rubbed oh-so-deliciously against your walls. your breath hitched as he rubbed that spot on your walls, his other hand holding you down tightly to stop you from squirming. he had noticed immediately, making sure to hit that same spot over and over again, using his thumb to rub on your clit simultaneously. you let out a choked gasp, the band in your stomach tightening at alarming rate; a telltale sign of you being brought to your fastest — almost embarrassingly fast — orgasm yet.

sunghoon watched your expressions with his lip pulled between his teeth, his eyes hooded, as you fell apart on his fingers. the little shudders and loud whines were music to his ears.

god, you knew exactly how to drive him crazy.

he kept on thrusting his fingers shallowly, until you were squirming from the overstimulation. he then withdrew his fingers from your soaking cunt, giving your clit a last pinch, eliciting a whimper from you. he brought his fingers to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you in the mirror, as he licked them clean, a soft groan leaving him as your taste hit him.

he licked off every last drop from his fingers, before harshly grabbing your chin. he turned your face halfway towards him, smashing his lips on yours, for the very first time — which was a little funny to think about, given that he had already made you cum on his fingers; that too at such an embarrassingly fast pace.

the kiss was sloppy and messy, spit mixing and dribbling down your chins, tongues clashing with each other. but neither of you seemed to care, too engrossed in trying to memorize the feel of each other's mouth.

he gripped your waist without breaking the kiss, pulling you backwards, before shoving you down on the bed. you fell on your back with a light ‘oof–’, your head hitting the pillow. you barely had any time to gather yourself, before sunghoon was crashing his lips into yours again.

he kissed you at a feverish pace, one that you could barely keep up with. his hands roamed about your body frantically, desperately trying to memorize every inch of you. he started to fiddle with your clothes, trying to take them off you, almost tearing them off in the process.

you barely processed it when your shirt went flying in some corner of the room, your bra following suit. your nipples harden almost instantly as they come in contact with the cold air, causing him to immediately pinch them, drawing out a loud whine from you. he sucked on one of them harshly, using his hand to pinch and twirl the other nipple. he alternated between both, biting and sucking on the skin around your nipples too, until your entire chest was covered in red hickeys and bite marks.

you were starting to find it a little unfair because of how you were the only one unclothed between the two of you, causing you to take the matter into your own hands. you tugged at his shirt impatiently, causing him to give in and take it off. he tried to immediately kiss you again, but your hands that were tugging at his pants stopped him. he stared at you with a slightly impatient glare, before taking his belt out of the loop.

instead of taking his pants off like you hoped he would, he grabbed both of your hands, before tying them with the belt, attaching them to the headboard. you gasped loudly, trying to free your hands, in vain. he laughed at your state. “patience is key, darling. didn't you know that?”

he pressed another harsh kiss to your lips, swallowing your whines, as he slowly grinded on you. you could feel the outline of his rock hard dick through his boxers, pressing insistently against your clit. you let out sharp gasps and moans at the sensation, but it was quickly ripped away from you.

you were positively drooling when he shoved his boxers down, his cock standing proud and tall. it slapped against his stomach, leaving a trail of precum on it. he grabbed your thighs, shoving them apart, before aligning himself with your eagerly awaiting cunt.

he rubbed his angry red and leaking tip on your clit, before gliding it up and down your slit, collecting your wetness. you arched your back, your eyes rolling into your head, a loud moan practically ripping out of your lips. you looked up at him with teary eyes, silently begging him to hurry up.

he smirked down at you, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip, before finally pushing himself inside. you let out an even louder moan, feeling his bulbous tip stretch you out, before he thrust himself fully inside — earning a choked gasp from you. he groaned, barely giving you time to adjust, before pulling himself almost completely out, leaving only the tip in, before thrusting back in.

he set a brutally fast pace, the continuous ‘fap-fap-fap’ sounds ringing loudly in your ears. the squelching sounds from your pussy were almost equally as loud, as more and more of your wetness trickled down his length. your bottom lip was pulled in between your teeth, eyes screwed shut. you subtly bucked your hips up, trying to match his pace.

he noticed it quickly enough, grabbing your hips to still you, before stopping as well. he gave you a stern look, before changing his pace. instead of the brutally fast pace he had set earlier, he switched to a slower pace, focusing on hitting every single spot perfectly.

you clenched around him tightly, a breathy moan of his name leaving your lips. his pace stuttered, before he grabbed both of your legs, folding them to your chest. the new position helped him pound into you even deeper, reaching places you never could on your own. his mushroom tip collided with your cervix every time, making you see stars.

he was deep, so so deep. he felt so fucking good, like you were in cloud nine. by the looks of it, he thought the same.

he let out a deep groan, breathy whispers leaving his lips. “p-pussy feels s-so — fuck — s’fucking good — fits like a glove–” he cut himself off with a moan, feeling you clench around him harder. “keep s-squeezing me like that i'll cum.”

you could barely hear him, your brain completely fogged up. you could barely formulate a single coherent thought, the completely unadulterated pleasure leaving you dizzy. you let out a soft gasp as you felt him sucking on your neck, just above your jugular. it felt good, too good.

you could feel the band in your stomach start to tighten, signalling your impending climax. he could tell it was close too, by the change of pitch in your moans. he focused on hitting your g-spot with every thrust, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

the added stimulation was all it took for the band in your stomach to finally snap, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.your eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream. your orgasm washed over you, coating his dick in a layer of white.

your orgasm triggered his own, causing his hips to stutter. he tried to pull out, but your pussy was clenching so tightly around him, he simply couldn't. he grabbed your hips, pushing himself even deeper. his eyes rolled back, a groan escaping him, as he came in you.

spurts of cum erupted from him, shooting deep inside, your pretty cunt clenching around him even harder, milking him for all he was worth. he came and came, till he physically couldn't anymore. he pulled his softening length out of your spent hole.

your ruined pussy clenched around nothing, globs of cum dripping down your thighs. sunghoon scooped them up with his fingers, pushing them right back into your sensitive folds. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, pushing your hair out of your face. “you're still with me?”

you nodded tiredly, too spent to speak. you were still in disbelief of the entire situation, but it was as real as real could get. you felt him untie your hands, before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style, carrying you to what you could only hope was the bathroom — before you passed out in his arms.

#park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut

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with-my-calamitous-love · 1 month ago

Text

i’ll be in denial for at least a little while / what about the plans we made?

ya! k. bakugou x reader

after a month with radio silence and encouragement from concerned friends and family, you end up at katsuki’s doorstep. themes of depression/isolation, mentions of death (katsuki failed to protect a family on a mission), angst with some comfort at the end.

one of those ones i just needed to write. special tag for @crushmeeren <3

song: tv

11:03 pm.

"he doesn't normally do this." you have eijirou on speaker phone while you look for your keys. you can't see him, but you know already the worried look in his red eyes as he speaks. its the same worry he's had for katsuki back when they were still in UA. its the worry you'd expect from a best friend.

he can't see you, but he knows you're worried, too. because anyone who gets thoroughly ghosted by their boyfriend with no warning would also have shaky hands as they drive over to check on them. anyone who cares about someone else, worries.

"you said he's still coming to work, though?" you know the answer. yes, you've heard from shouto that he's still heading to the agency regularly, going on patrol and field missions as normal. but what you don't know, what you aren't able to confirm from what people are seeing, is what scares you: what if he's dragging himself out of bed, exhausted because he didn't sleep? what if he's skipping meals? what if he's going on missions, secretly hoping that something goes wrong?

"yeah, but he barely talks to anyone. i mean, i know he doesn't care for small talk, or whatever, but... somethings wrong. i can feel it."

your stomach churns, making the turn onto his street. for a while, you sit in the driveway, trying to see into the windows. maybe he's asleep. maybe he's perfectly fine. but most of that is just hope.

"what if he doesn't let me in?"

literally, because theres always a chance he's asleep and doesn't answer his door- though he's always been a light sleeper since going pro. but theres also the chance that he lets you inside his home but not into the walls he's built around him this past month.

"he will. he has to. he loves you." eijirou's voice feels like refuge, even over the phone.

you take a deep breath, hands clutching the sweater your wearing. its his, and you almost feel a little bad that you've taken it from him. does he have other things keeping warm? he has other sweaters, or blankets, hot showers and even his own explosions, but is he still feeling cold? alone?

eijirou drones on a little more. he's not the one sitting in his abesent best-friends driveway, but like you, he's stalling. "what happened was... it was terrible. but no ones blaming katsuki for that."

"yeah. except katsuki probably is."

he's silent over the phone. you both knew it, but didn't want to say it.

"i'm going in."

the redhead nods, though you can't see him. "i'm here if you need me."

"alright, by eiji."

"bye, [y/n.]"

your heart is pounding, bracing yourself for whatever may happen. but part of you knows that whatever you're feeling, your boyfriend is probably feeling tenfold and alone. its why you need to do this.

tentatively, you raise your knuckles to the door, knocking.

theres silence for a moment. you hear some footsteps that pause just before the door, like he knows its you.

on the inside? he feels pathetic for trying to hide, hoping you'll go away. he knows you won't, you both know it.

"katsuki?" your voice is quiet, afraid of disturbing any ghosts. "c'mon, i know you're in there."

he tenses. he wants to make up an excuse, tell himself that he's fine, that he doesn't have the time, that leaving everyone behind suddenly isn't a sign that something is wrong. but he's a liar and a bad one.

"go away."

he winces to himself, knowing he sounds like a child. but truthfully, its what he wishes he were, right now. a child who didn't have to feel the weight of failure pressing down on his ribs.

"i'm not going away until you let me inside." you say, firmly. "please."

its the first time you're hearing his voice in weeks, and its enough to bring you to your knees. he's been doing this for a month, but you wonder if he's felt lonely or scared or confused for longer than that.

"...i don't want you to see me like this."

you fight back tears. "maybe i do. maybe i wanna see you."

he's leaning his forehead against the door, knowing it's gone on too long. he knows he can't keep this up forever, and that at one point, you'd come to his front door. he expected more anger, anger for being a shitty neglectful boyfriend that never opens up about his feelings.

but he doesn't hear any anger in your voice, at all. and that makes him feel worse.

"please." you plead again, ringing the doorbell, hoping it'll annoy him enough to open the door. you'd rather have him pissed off, annoyed or angry than have none of him at all.

he shakes hid head, hand on the doorknob. its already unlocked.

"you're fucking stubborn, aren't you?" a sentence that comes out with something like a laugh. your chest tightens, worried he's about to tell you off. for a minute in the silence, it seems like it.

but then he opens the door, letting you see him.

you want to run towards him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into his home and back into his life. but the fear of him rejecting that holds you back as he lets you inside, closing the door behind you.

you first note how dark it is. obviously, because its near midnight. but he's never been one to go without at least a window open, to let some moonlight in. he can't stand artificial light, anyway. he's always bitched that it messes up his sleep.

"you mind if i open some curtains?" you ask him, softly gaging his reactions.

he scoffs quietly, but reels in his attitude- most of it, anyway. "i don't care, do whatever."

you ignore his spite, walking over to the living room window and drawing the fabric. it's a perfectly clear night, a sky so full of stars you could swim in it. its something so beautiful, something he hasn't let himself experience in weeks.

you presence in his home is felt like that of a ghost. you take more time to look at his surroundings. you can hear his voice before this: "i like shit clean. and you're bad at that."

but now, he doesn't seem to care. theres dirty mugs and unwashed laundry. you're not saying anything, but he's expecting it. he's expecting you to call out his hypocrisy, or just how shitty he's let his place become. the thought makes his anxiety skyrocket, and following that, shame.

but instead, he watches as you collect a few of the cups and rinse them off in the sink. somehow, that makes him feel worse. what the hell did he do to deserve that?

"what are you doing?" he asks. you notice one of the mugs he got as a gag gift for his 20th birthday, though he took it seriously. a world's greatest hero mug, now dusty and forgotten.

"don't worry about it." you say, turning back to face him.

neither of you know where to start. he's hoped that if he stayed alone, drowning in his own depression, he wouldn't have to watch when you inevitably leave him.

"you know it's been a month?" you gently approach him. he's not moving away from your presence, which should be a good sign.

"i know." he says fast, cold. you know his tell that he's angry- short replies, pissed off red eyes and distance. he's not even mad at you, though. just himself.

"eijirou called, said he was worried. we all were, i mean."

his eyes dart up to meet your for a brief moment. the mention of him makes his chest tighten up more, knowing you're not the only person he's disappointed. he feels like a true, honest coward. he's not getting along with anyone. maybe he's the problem.

his silence makes you panic, wondering if he's listening. "i wanted to give you space. you're my boyfriend, i care and i-i didn't wanna push you."

he nods, arms crossed, looking at the floor.

"i'm just sorry it took me so long to get here."

his eyes meet yours again, this time holding your gaze. he wants to cup your face and tell you that you have nothing to apologize for. that he's hard to approach and hard to love, even though he knows you'd disagree with that. but the words get caught in his throat, and filtered by unresolved anger.

"yeah, well... you're here now, aren't you?"

you just nod, grateful that you're both, at least, talking. thats more than anything else in the past month.

you think back to the articles of what happened. how two young parents with kids even younger were tragically injured during a bank robbery. how pro-hero dynamight successfully captured the criminals but couldn't prevent what happened to the innocent.

whats worse is how neatly packaged and sanitized it became. "a physical altercation." "an unforeseen criminal event." "and unfortunate and untimely demise." he hated the way they tried to save his name, to not pin any blame him or his failures. he was blaming himself. why wasn't anyone else?

"you know no one blames you for what happened, right?"

because no one does. but for katsuki, thats the worst part. he should have bee faster, better. if he had been seconds earlier, maybe they could have gotten to the hospital faster. maybe he could have prevented it, all of it. if he was just a few seconds faster.

but he wasn't, and it'll haunt him forever. "they should be blaming me." he says solemnly.

you shake your head, stepping closer to him, hands itching to reach out. you want to take his blame and guilt away, even just for a moment. you wanna be able to touch him again. you wanna feel your boyfriend and everything he is.

theres tears in his red eyes as he recounts everything, breaking down. he once swore to himself he'd never cry in front of you, or anyone. now, he's starting to see that you're the only person he could cry around.

"how many people are grieving because i fucked up?" his voice raises slightly, but you hear through it.

"they know you tried."

"yeah well, not hard enough!"

he takes a deep breath, the thing he always tells you to do when you sprial. he lets the air sit in his lungs before finally pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you. he's tired of being alone.

"has it really been a month?" he asks, quietly.

you just nod into his chest, speechless. he's letting you in again, letting you touch him, feel him. its the closest you've been in what feels like decades.

you pull away just a little, hands cupping his face, looking into his teary eyes. its the first time in a while he's let himself cry, feel. and it makes his chest ache. his bones are exhausted from pushing down his feelings, of saying that he's fine, that he deserves the exile he's placed upon himself the past month.

"i'm sorry i'm shitty a boyfriend." he sobs. "and a shitty person. you deseve so much fucking better, they all did."

you shake your head, hushing him compassionately, wiping his tears. "i don't want better. i want you." he pulls you in tighter, and for a moment, time stops, the way he's wanted it to for the past few hours.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

2 am.

you both sit on the living room floor, backs against the couch. you're pressed against him, holding his hand while he rests it against your thigh, his thumb gently stroking over your skin. he's been exhausted as of late, but he doesn't want to close his eyes and miss this moment with you.

but when he looks over at you, your head on his shoulder, he feels more and more that he's allowed to let his guard down. you're still very much awake, but it's the first night in a while you can sleep without aimlessly worrying about him.

"you know idiot, for what its worth, i haven't been completely alone." he says looking over at you.

your eyes perk up. if there was anyone else who made sure he wasn't suffering in silence, its someone you wanted to know. "really? who?"

he pauses for a moment, like he's recalling a conversation in his head. one thats been buried by guilt and anxiety for the past month. but with you, he's letting himself admit things.

"...i spoke with a member of the victims family. she was the sister to the mother of the family. she was at the hospital the day it happened."

his answer took you off guard. in your head, he boarded himself up in his house, isolated and alone. you're not completely wrong, but you do feel a pang of guilt for not thinking better of him.

"how did that go?" you push gently.

"i expected them to be angry. to blame me for it. hell, i blame me." he starts, reminiscing the event. "but she was kinder than i deserved. said she didn't blame me."

you can tell he doesn't believe her words, or anyone's. that he still replays it in his head, living the guilt, the guilt that he survived and others didn't, eating at him.

"she sounds really sweet." you squeeze his hand.

he nods. "yeah, she was."

"you know," you start, trying to give his mind a brief holiday from the turmoil. "if everyone is saying it, it kind of has to be true."

his lips twitch into a reluctant smile. "whatever, idiot."

you sit up, facing him as you piece together your next words. he pulls your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, wanting to hear your voice. right now, its the only thing keeping him afloat.

"the hardest part about this job is that you can't save everyone. you can't change that."

what you say isn't new, its a reminder. that no matter how many things he blows up, how many villains he handles and how many times he climbs to the top, he'll have to endure the pain of loss. he's seen it in every teacher and every hero who came before him, and all the up and coming heroes who still have lessons to learn. and deep down, he knows that its no reason give up. he's determined to be the best, to be everything he said he'd be.

he nods, hearing the truth in your words, knowing that he'll need to make peace with it. he has no witty remarks or curses to add. just a drive to do better.

"but knowing you? you'll probably still try."

he brings his face to yours and then your lips to his, kissing you. his hand comes up to your cheek as he lingers for a few moments before pulling away.

"of course i will."

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swtheartz · 1 month ago

Text

“ LIKE STRAWBERRIES. ” — M. Grayson

Part two

Info : Reader is a healer, canon typical violence, slow burn, one sided beef to lovers type beat W / C : 1.6k.

A / N : silas actually uploading an entire fic??? this is unheard of!! uncharted territory!!!!! jk though. i was burnt out for NO reason and suddenly got a surge of spite against my depression and wrote this. lol. it WILL in fact be a series, this is only part one i fear

The first time Mark meets you is after the fight with his dad.

Cecil had told him he’d be fixed right up—in the physical aspect, at the very least. “The kid hates sob stories. Try not to say too much.”

So, he took the old man’s advice, and hadn’t said much to you while you were healing him. He’d argue that the silence was awkward. Foreign and strange, and he didn’t know how to not sit there and manage to not look out of place. The room you primarily worked in wasn’t like a hospital room, no.

It didn’t have those weird posters of kittens with something that said ‘believe in yourself,’ or something dumb like that, it wasn’t just pristine white walls with blinding fluorescent lights that gave patients headaches, and it didn’t smell like pure bleach and chemicals. No. It smelled of something floral and sweet, almost like fruit; but not quite there. The walls were more a peach color than anything, easier on the eyes than the standard American hospital. Not to mention that the walls were decorated.

All in all, it was strange. Like someone as bruised and bloody as Mark didn’t belong in there. Somewhere sweet and almost gentle, and the wounds that had made him feel as though they’d stay forever—stay etched into his skin, down to the bone, alongside the blood that wasn’t just solely his—mended themselves back together. The bruises and aches faded away.

The smell of blood lingered.

“Well,” the sound of your voice nearly startled Mark off the bed you’d had him laid across. “Take a shower and do a rain check with Stedman, and you’re all good to go, Invincible.”

“. . . What? Just- that’s it? That’s all?”

You’d stared blankly at him, arms crossed in the chair you were seated in. Though you were a healer, you did look as though you belonged amongst the official medical staff that’d be seen literally anywhere else. The slightest tilt of your head had him shifting uncomfortably.

“Did you want there to be more?” The question comes across as somewhat annoyed. Mark could see why you’d probably be agitated—but it was a genuine question!

“It’s just, uh,” he starts, swallowing nervously. “I expected it to take longer or something. Like an actual healing process, precautions I’d have to take and stuff.”

The hum of acknowledgment you let out as you nod your head makes him look at you again, and you speak. “Not when I’m the one healing you. My power is called that for a reason, and it’s so heroes like you can get back out on the playing field. To skip the healing process. If I hadn’t been here, it would’ve taken you months.”

Right. A healer. Mark himself had never really thought someone like you could exist. He’s seen powers like that only in his comics, and there weren’t any other supers capable of doing whatever you just did. The way you move is skilled and practiced, years of experience and heroes in and out of your ward showing through it.

“Huh. Okay, wow. Thanks?”

“Go home, Invincible.”

“Invincible.”

Mark grimaces. “I am begging you—literally just call me by my government name.”

He doesn’t miss the way your nose scrunches ever so slightly as your eyes never leave the clipboard in your hands, clearly focused; but not too focused. “You and I are not on friendly terms. We’re associates by definition.”

“Okay, okay,” he puts his hands up slightly in mock surrender, contemplating his response. Over the past few months, he’s noticed that you don’t quite like him. At all. You’re annoyed by how thick his file has grown in such a short amount of time, annoyed by all the times you’ve documented the amount of injuries he’s had, how much energy it takes you, and whether or not you want to quit working for the GDA after making his acquaintance all those months ago.

“. . . But hear me out.” Mark adds on, noticing the way your hands clutch even more at the wood and paper. “We’re associates when we’re on duty. By definition.”

“And I am on duty,” you retort, setting your papers down and pressing a hand to the bridge of your nose. “Constantly. The same way I’m on duty while watching you get your ass beat on live television, all because you seem to love pulling your punches. Like a fucking idiot.”

He winces at that, unable to deny the blatant distaste in your tone as you remind him of all the times Cecil has sent him your way, all the times you’ve scolded him and downright berated him because you watched as he actively held back.

“Your strength went up over one hundred percent, and you don’t even use it properly. Every fight you have, your file gets ridiculously thicker, Markus.” The way you say his name—

“Don’t say it like it’s a slur.” Mark pleads, a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, “and it’s Mark. Just. . . Just Mark.”

“Get. Out.”

“Markus.”

“Mark.”

“Why are you here?” You sigh out the question with exhaustion, annoyance, and a dire need to rip your own hair out as Mark sits there on one of the patient beds, uninjured this time—shockingly. He’s sitting there like a lost puppy, just. . . Much larger, more awkward, and disgustingly pathetic.

He hesitates for a moment, choosing his response carefully. “I’m benched for a while. At least until Cecil figures out what to do with me.”

The sound you make is unsurprised. “Good. Sick of seeing you bleeding whenever you come here.”

“I know.”

“So stop doing it.”

Mark’s lips purse into a thin line. You’re so mean, and it’s not like he can’t see why. But you haven’t asked him to exactly stop talking to you (yes you have), and it’s not like you genuinely hate his guts. . . At least, in his eyes, you don’t. The Teen Team would beg to differ after seeing the way you speak to him.

“I’m just wondering,” he starts, unwilling to leave. “Are there like, any other heroes you’re sick of seeing? Besides me?”

You pause at that, and turn your head towards him. As always, your eyes are narrowed and tired, a little scrunch in your brow and a slight frown on your lips as you look at him. He’d really give anything just to see you smile—just once. He wonders if you have dimples. What your laugh sounds like, what you look like when you’re peaceful and calm for just a moment.

“Why?”

“Morbid curiosity,” Mark states simply. And to be fair, it is just that. Surely you don’t just dislike him and solely him, there has to be another hero you hate. Maybe even multiple. Mark likes hearing your voice, even if you’re just talking about the things you dislike.

He wonders what you do like. What you find solitude in.

“Hm.” For a moment, you exhale, and push away from your desk to think about your answer. “. . . Immortal,” you hum, thinking about it. “Can’t seem to keep his head on. Or stop charging into fights he can’t handle.”

“Like me?”

“No,” you shake your head and go back to focusing on your work. “You can handle your fights. It just seems to be a deliberate choice of yours not to handle them.”

“Ouch.”

“I hate it when Rex comes in here.” You ignore his little comment and continue, actually giving some thought to your responses. Usually, your conversations with Mark consisted of you insulting him endlessly before telling him to go home and sleep it off. Rinse and repeat.

“He can talk someone’s ear off. It’s sickening, really,” the last part is a mutter as you sort through a barrage of papers, clearly going back to focusing on what you were doing before he’d come and interrupted your rather quiet day. He’s been dropping by more often, and over time, you’ve began to hold actual conversations with him that didn’t involve you telling him how you should let him heal on his own, and him begging you to not leave him stranded in such a state—

“What’s your favorite kind of food?”

You pause for a second, pretending to not have heard, before ultimately you set your papers down again and turn your swivel chair to face Mark. “What?”

“Your favorite kind of food,” he repeats, staring right back at you. “Like, do you like spicy, or?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.” You grumble, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. Just for a moment, you glance back up at him, watching him pout ever so slightly at your answer.

“I’m serious. It’s just a genuine question, y’know?” The two of you enter a staring contest of sorts when you glare at him, looking genuinely offended at the fact he was asking about something so minuscule and stupid. As though the two of you were friendly. . . .

“Fruit.”

Mark blinks at your response, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again, gears turning in his head. “Okay. . . So, sweet stuff?”

“Sweet stuff,” you mutter, turning back around. “Not artificial sugar. Natural. It’s better for my energy, helps me heal better.”

He nods as though that makes sense. You seemed the type to prefer natural things over the overproduced, sickeningly and overly sweet candies that left a bitter aftertaste. It makes sense in Mark’s mind—as though he should’ve known, should’ve been able to tell. The room you work in smells soft and sweet, just like honey and strawberries.

You smell like strawberries. Ripe, sweet. Tinted a dark red and soft when bitten into.

“Okay.” Mark whispers, more to himself than anything. A confirmation. A new alignment in the stars, the very universe itself as a whole. “Yeah, that seems like you.”

“Don’t stereotype me, Invinci-Boy.”

“Oh my god.”

TAGLIST : @lxluvsmoney @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha @koilikesthefishy @tokoyamisstuff @pookiei-bookie

#ʚ — heartz : fic #ʚ — heartz : love letter #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible x reader #invincible #mark grayson x gn reader #mark grayson imagine #mark grayson x fem reader #mark grayson x male reader #invincible imagine #invincible fic #black reader #poc reader

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temiizpalace · 10 months ago

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☆┊DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND..

SUMMARY: little things he does that remind you you’re going to marry him someday.

CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

reader gender is not mentioned, reader is not mentioned to be yuu

MAKING YOU MEALS

he makes sure you eat RIGHT. no more skipping meals throughout the day on his watch. every lunch he’ll make you a cute little bento box so you don’t have to wait in line. and when i say cute, i mean cute. it doesn’t matter what gender you are your rice balls will have cat ears. dinner? come over to his dorm and he’ll make something for you. don’t feel like it? he’s going to your place and cooking there. breakfast? he makes something quick yet delicious for you. he’s like your own private chef, and you can only imagine what it’d be like to see a ring on his finger someday.

trey, ruggie, azul, jamil, lilia (good luck), silver

CLEANING YOUR ROOM (and everything else)

it doesn’t matter if your room is messy, tidy, or anything in between, every month he’ll make sure it is SPOTLESS. is there dust on your shelves? nuh uh. are there random stains on your floor that you thought were impossible to get out? he’s rushing to your rescue and somehow got the stain out. did you not want to go through your homework? everything is suddenly organized in its respective subject, going from A-Z. you’ve never seen your room so tidy before, it was like an epiphany. please just marry him on the spot, he’s begging.

riddle, deuce, jade, jamil, vil, sebek

LEAVING LITTLE POST-IT NOTES ON YOUR BELONGINGS

without fail, you’ll find a cute little sticky-note on your almost all of your belongings. sure, it gets annoying once in awhile, but reading the sweet message on it changes your mind almost instantly. “you’re going to do great today! stay strong. :)” “don’t forget to drink water! love you 🫶” “can we go out soon? my treat. text me when u see this!” it’s almost frightening to see how much yellow papers you keep inside your desk every time you opening it, but can anyone really blame you? you’re going to keep these til the day you die, and that grand total might be at the very least over 100,000.

ace, deuce, cater, jack, floyd, kalim, epel, rook

RANDOM GIFTS

expect to see a neatly wrapped gift on your doorstep almost every week. seriously. it’s like a delivery service except the company is literally your boyfriend. “dear, did you get me this?” you ask as you enter the room. he looks up from his phone as he looks at the expensive name brand sweatshirt in your hands. “yeah.” he answered so nonchalantly!! like sir!!! this sweater was 1000000 thaumarks!! what!! while you do appreciate the gesture, you feel bad he’s spending so much money on you. he doesn’t care though!! he’ll spoil you rotten til your very last breath.

leona, azul, floyd, kalim, vil, idia, malleus

PREPPING YOU SNACKS

depending on who this is, he may not be some gordon ramsay level chef, but he’s definitely more than happy to cut you a some apple slices while you study. sometimes he’ll come into your room with a backpack full of your favorite snacks just left at the side of your desk so you can reach down and grab the one you want to eat that day. sometimes all you need is an energy boost and he’s more than happy to make some coffee or tea for you if you’re busy. he’ll press a kiss or two on your forehead before placing the plate of beautifully cut fruit down and continuing on with his day and going back to his thoughts. now, what will the theme of your wedding be?

ace, deuce, trey, jade, jack, jamil, epel, malleus

A/N: notice how jamil and deuce are in almost every category. (sorry this one was kinda rushed 😭😭)

date published: 7/30/24

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tianshanb · 10 months ago

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Just got this really funny idea. What if damian suddenly refuse to sleep alone in his room in the manor cz of the "demon under his bed". Bothering diffrent members and refusing to go to bed when it's his bed time, or going to sleep with in someone's room everyday. Batman at first is like aww cute. But then super suspicious cz it's so unlike damain. Until one day no one else is in the manor drake is liek "umm demonbrat no way". And asks why he doing this, is it a plan to murder him or somehting. To which damian is like ummm "it's the demon under my bed" and maybe say soemhting that kids are scared of like "grabs ny leg when it's on the side" or "stands and stares from the foot of the bed" and then goes on a rnat about the need for good sleep and it affecting his health.

Drake be like ummm brat ur told old to believe in this. Big cat fight till damian is like just go take a look. Drake is like "fine". Goes in room opens the light, damian is like "it won't work wiht the light on. Drake turns it off. And crouches to look under the bed while rolling his eyes and making this whole big gesture.

Aahh there under the bed... greets him the sight of a literal demon...

Let's say he screamed so loud and so screatchy no one will ever let him live it down. That was blackmail material for life.

Safe to say that room got exorcism and damian got a new room lol. This time, bed demon free.

Extra:

No one believes drake when he brings it up, dick just think his baby brothers are being cute and scared (damian and tim) and proceeds to baby talk to them while crouching to look under- being cut half way as he meets the eye of what could only be slender man's short emo cousin... and promptly passes out.

Next comes jason making fun of everyone.. until he looks under the bed. The good catholic boy in him is suddenly awakened and he starts carrying a cross and holy water around "for emergencies". He also refuse to sleep alone in the manor ever again. He now attends church on Sundays.

Stephanie, Cass, and Duke all were excited to have a look cz they, quote, "never seen a demon before"

Alfred is like "under my roof? And rent free?"

Bruce thinks this is all a part of some elaborated prank by his kids. When even jason asks him.. he's so happy his kids are relying on him as a dependable adult to scare away the "monsters", lamenting hie fatherhood experience, like come on his old back and knees can barely handle this crouch but he'll do it for his kids.... unfortunately he did not have a contingency plan for this dam it.

Months later damian mentions something about the creature in the closet eating all his socks... that's when the btfamily decides that maybe the manor is too old and they need to move.

Another way it could go is instead of drake saying he's lying, he asks damian to befriend the thing under his since "you are both demons". Damian is like waittttttt I could train that.

He tried bribing it with alfreds cookies but that failed. 2 days later damian is back for advice from tim since the demon tried to eat his cat and that's absolutely unacceptable so the thing gotta go.

#batfam #baby damian wayne #damian wayne #batfamily #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson

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pyract0 · 3 months ago

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Random thoughts with MHA men!

☁︎Lowkey just a heap of stupid ideas I had for different characters I thought were funny/ cute. Might extend on a few of these into longer fics if I find the time :) ☁︎Going back to finishing some requests after this! Sometimes read and can't process what I just read so might take a while to finish them all! Feel free to request but might be a bit slow at the moment, but I'll get through them when I can! ☁︎Not really any warnings other than swearing (Tried to keep it to a minimum but habit when I can't think of a fitting word)! Gn/ unspecified reader :))

╰┈➤ Katsuki Bakugo who follows a strict routine he set for himself to get the most out of the day, in bed by exactly 8:30. Yet he coincidently always happens to be awake when you try to sneak in and cuddle under the covers with him. Gets annoyed at you for "interfering" with his schedule, but he never lets himself fall asleep if he knows your planning to visit, even if at ridiculous hours of the night. ╰┈➤ Shoto Todoroki who lacks certain aspects of understanding when it comes to social cues, specifically the idea of personal space after you start dating. Will stand behind you breathing down your neck just wanting to be near you, not realising how odd it appears to anyone passing by. Similarly, will practically sit ON you instead of beside you, squeezing between you and anyone/anything so he can sit right beside you.

╰┈➤ Izuku Midoriya who often forgets or simply doesn't realise when his habit of rambling starts, sometimes scaring the shit out of you when he suddenly breaks the silence. Will need you to sometimes cover his mouth when out in public before he says something that would accidently make any sane person uncomfortable. Talked about murder out of context at least a few times and got y'all kicked out of somewhere </3

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida who understands the concept of money and it's overall value, but frankly doesn't care when it comes to you. Buys you awfully expensive items that reminds him of you/ thinks you'll like, hiding just how much he actually spent so you don't reject it (you know, you just don't have the heart to tell him.) Will gift you like it's only something small and beat himself up for not getting you something better (It cost more than what you make in 3 months). Prides himself on responsibility but it all falls out the window when about his decisions around you.

╰┈➤ Eijiro Kirishima who shows you off like some sort of deity, constantly praising anything and everything you do. Accidently degrades himself while praising you, saying how he doesn't deserve you (he's literally an angel :(( ). Will do anything for you, if you ask him or not, choosing to show just how much he loves you through his actions not just words. Tells you he loves you at least 5 times a day <3

╰┈➤ Neito Monoma who respects you even if you're in class 1a, never speaking poorly of you even when shitting on your class. Stops whenever you're nearby and starts acting all sweet like he wasn't badmouthing each of your classmates to their faces minutes prior. Another one who worships your every movement and the ground you walk on, but instead of degrading himself puts everyone else but the both of you down. (My favourite little menace)

╰┈➤ Hitoshi Shinsou who without fail whenever you're alone hands you some random ass cat inspired thing that reminded him of you. First it was a small succulent pot, next some really doped out looking cat plushie, then a little keychain of a black cat with a witches hat.. it just kept going. Gets you wondering how he manages to keep finding these objects, and how he always manages to have one when you see each other unplanned (He has a little hidden pocket where he stores the little strange trinkets) ╰┈➤ Rody Soul who sometimes activates his quirk, summoning Pino, at the most random hours of night. Will get woken up by your sudden screams, thinking you had a nightmare only for it to have been Pino scaring the shit out of you by sitting on your chest in the middle of the night and scrutinizing your very being (lovingly). Has been forced as a result to spend the next day begging for forgiveness for Pino's actions (He had a dream of you and she was just admiring you with the same level of affection as him, just hers a bit more creepy..)

╰┈➤ Mirio togata who even after years of practice with his quirk, happens to forget what activating it in normal clothes does. Has tried to phase through the ground to surprise you with his sudden appearance just to end up flashing you, both of you now sitting in embarrassment while your struggling to breathe through your laughter. Apologises before joining you in going along with your everyday life (It will happen again)

╰┈➤ Tamaki Amajiki who uses you as a form of protection, not from physical danger but from people trying to communicate with you both. Will hold your hand in his and stand right against your back, head often against yours or on your shoulder while he lets you talk for him as well as yourself. As soon as you finish, will drag you away to a more secluded area and embrace you with more confidence as a way of showing his appreciation for never complaining about his shying away from socialising.

╰┈➤ Giulio Gandini who chooses to not wear his eyepatch when you're both alone, trusting you in his most vulnerable form. Who is able to use his robotic eye as a camera, recording your interactions to preserve the memory. Often pulls up these moments on the screen of his prosthetic arm when you're apart, watching through them when he misses you. Moves certain ones to a USB and prints out photos to give you (some in lockets, some just as a copy to frame) leaving you confused on how he managed to get them. (I love him so much :(( lowkey the main reason I liked the 4th movie sm)

╰┈➤ Touya Todoroki/ Dabi who will only let you help when it comes to dyeing his hair (aka forces you when the black is washing out to help fix it up). Will sit on a random chair he dragged in or the edge of the bathtub while you touch up his roots, probably moves constantly unless you hold his head in place. Gets you to join him in the shower to help wash through it, being a little shit about it and smudging the dye on you so it'll stain.

╰┈➤ Tomura Shigaraki who refuses to touch you with all 5 of his fingers, even after he's confident in his abilities to control his quirk. Will always have a finger lifted from your body while he holds you in his embrace, wearing artist gloves when sleeping beside you just to be safe. Holds your hand constantly when alone like the touch starved person he is but never has a proper grasp, loosely intertwining your fingers while he leaves his pinkie away from your hand.

╰┈➤ Shota Aizawa who similar to his son has a habit of handing you random stuff when he returns home, though his are more concerning. If you had a nickel for every time he came home to hand you a kitten he found in an alley, you would have two but it was very strange it happened twice. Came home after his long shift one night and handed you a cat like it was just another causal Wednesday. So anyways you guys have 2 cats now :))

╰┈➤ Keigo Takami who likes to use his feathers to tickle you at the least expected times, often resulting in a fresh bruise the next day. Will each and every time forget you like to swing when his feathers are tickling at your sides, with your first or leg accidently colliding with some part of his body. One time was his face, another his calf, or the time you accidently hit him where the sun don't shine. He learnt to move back after that one..

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princesssae · 6 months ago

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{But You Like Her Better}

[Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> It’s the 3rd of December, so why do you see Megumi handing his sweater over to Hana Kurusu?

Word Count -> 2.4k

Authors Note -> Ever since she said “that” to Megumi, I started disliking her. But today is the 3rd of December, and it’s the PERFECT time to write this. This fic is based on Heather, by Conan Gray so I suggest listening to this song before reading! This is not apart of the Kid!Megumi series!

Warnings -> THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE FINAL BATTLE AGAINST SUKUNA!!!! Spoilers if you haven’t read the chapters!!! ANGSTTT, fluff at the end.

It’s cold today. You shiver and walk down the empty hall. Maybe you should ask Maki to train with you today. After all, you need to get warm. Sitting in the building with no heat is killing you. Why hasn’t anyone changed the thermostat temperature yet?

You turn around the hallway to go to the exit and there you see Megumi. What’s he doing on this side of the building? He’s usually never here. Usually, he’s always in his dorm room or out with Itadori. That brings you to your next point. Where's Yuji at? They’re usually attached at the hip after the incident. But Yuji isn't there. It's someone else.

It's blonde hair. Short, shiny, blonde hair. And there you see it. You see Megumi handing his sweater over to Kurusu Hana. She’s pretty. Prettier than you. Her eyes are as bright as the blue sky. Maybe he’s mesmerized by them. Maybe that's why he’s holding eye contact with her for so long.

“Do I hear wedding bells?” she exclaims, with her hands over her mouth. She acts like a middle school girl squealing because her crush just confessed. Maybe that’s what just happened. From here, you can tell that her cheeks are pink.

Your heart stings. This is something you definitely did not need to witness. You turn away from the scene and walk away to go to your dorm room.

She’s an angel. Literally and figuratively. Maybe that's why he likes her. He likes girls that are pretty like her. Did he know that it was the third of December?

The scene in your head, no matter how many times you replay it again and again, he was gazing into her eyes. He’s in love, isn’t he? And it's not with you, it's with her.

The next morning, you sit in the dorm living room, eating breakfast. You realize you forgot to get a drink and while you were about to get up, Hana is suddenly next to you, handing you your favorite drink. She smiles once you accept the drink. She’s so shiny.

“Here,” she says.

“Thanks,” you respond with, still in shock that she knows your favorite drink.

“Yuji told me that it’s your favorite drink,” she explains. She’s already on a first name basis with him? It took you months to be able to get comfortable with saying his first name. Maybe he likes her better, too.

“Oh, well thank you anyways,” you say and take a sip of the drink. She’s so nice.

When she walks away, you notice the choice of clothing that she’s wearing today. It’s a sweater. Megumi’s sweater, to be exact. There’s a pang in your heart but that’s okay. He wants her. It’s his choice anyway. It’s not like you ever had a chance with him.

Later that night, the group is watching a movie in the living room but you turned in, telling the group that you didn’t feel good. Maki and Nobara tagged along with you anyways, saying that they didn't wanna see Hana all over Megumi.

Having a girls night was needed. Silly face masks being used, matching pajamas being worn, and even hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows were made from the kitchen.

They know about your tiny (not really tiny) crush on Megumi. You’ve had a crush on him for so, very long. You met Megumi when he was in middle school, roughing up the bullies that ever crossed his way. Being in the same class, he knew you were getting picked on.

But for what reason? You'll never find out. It's not like you were a loner. In fact, you had a nice friend group, good grades and a good social life. Maybe they were jealous of your friends. Who knows?

Sitting on your bed, you come back to your senses and realize that Nobara and Maki are still in your room. You wait for their arguing to end to start your own story about yesterday's incident. When you get enough courage to tell them what happened yesterday, Nobara gets furious.

“Are you serious? Why did he do this?!” she exclaims out of frustration. “And yesterday out of all days? Be serious,” Nobara scoffs and crosses her arms.

She knows that Megumi doesn’t have a crush on Hana. He just feels indebted to her for saving his life. But she knows that he shouldn't have taken it that far.

Maki nods in agreement. “Yeah, I just don't think that he has the hots for her, you know?” she states, stretching her arms.

Speak of the Devil. Your phone dings and it's a message from someone. Megumi, to be exact. You pick up the phone and show your friends the notification from your home screen. When you open the message, you hear Nobara groaning in the background saying something along the lines of “boys and their obliviousness”.

Megumi <3: Are you okay? Yuji told me that you said that you didn't feel well.

Sent at 8:30 pm

You: Yeah! I'm okay. Nobara and Maki are with me.

Sent at 8:31 pm

Megumi <3: Oh okay. Just wondering why you weren't here tonight.

Sent at 8:31 pm

And that's the end of the conversation. Not like you expected anything out of it anyways. Hana’s probably on the couch, cozying up next to him. He probably has his arm around her shoulder. They probably kiss when nobody's looking. Megumi would never kiss you. She’d probably get hurt if she found out that Megumi was talking to someone when she’s right next to him.

Maybe you should change his contact name. He’s taken already, isn’t he? It wouldn’t be proper to crush on someone while they're talking to someone else. You'll do it later.

You turn off your phone and join the conversation Nobara is wildly explaining, about somebody stealing some shopping bags? You don't know, but you know that you enjoy your time with them.

A week later, all the students are at a ramen booth eating their worries away. Shoko says that it's her treat, as long as you get her a pack of cigarettes while yall are out. You're not legal enough to do it, but maybe you'll pay someone to get it for you.

At the end of your meal, when you're about to go up and pay with Shoko’s card, you're tapped on the shoulder by someone. You turn around and you're faced by someone from your middle school.

“Hey, how are you? I feel like it's been so long since we've seen each other,” your guy friend says. He was introduced to your friend group a little later than when you joined, but nevertheless, you enjoyed each other's company.

“Good, I'm doing good. How are you?” you question back.

“Good, thanks. I see a lot of new faces from your new high school. Oh, and there's Megumi. Hey Megumi, how are you doing man?” he asks. Megumi, seated from across the table, nods his head in encouragement and responds with a short answer.

Your guy friend reverts his attention back to you and the rest of the conversation goes smoothly.

When he says goodbye to you, he gives you his phone number and tells you to let him know when you're free. He wants to hang out with you, and maybe get the gang back together.

On the way back home, Nobara gets all excited. “Did you see the way he was looking at her, Maki?! He’s soooo interested,” she tells you, with her arms waving in the air ecstatically.

“Yes, yes, I saw,” Maki responds. It's vague, but you can tell she’s excited by the twinkle in her eye.

The group of guys, which include Yuji, Inumaki, Panda, Yuta and Megumi walk behind yall by a couple of steps. They’re engrossed in their own conversation, but you see Megumi’s eyes flicker towards yours before he pulls away with a frown.

What's up with him? You wonder. Maybe it's because Hana isn't here. She said that she was busy and couldn't show up tonight. It's not like you cared. But oh well, it's not your problem anymore.

It’s 9:27 pm at night when you get another message. You sort of hope that it's your friend that you recently connected with. But all your hope diminishes when you realize who it is.

Megumi <3: Come to the kitchen.

Sent at 9:27 pm

It's all he sends and you wonder if it was for someone else instead. You contemplate on going, but it's just been so awkward between the two of yall lately. So no, you decide not to go and to sleep instead. Maybe you're finally getting over your silly crush. Maki and Nobara would be proud.

There's a knock at your door. You look over at your clock and it's 3:32 am. Who is up this late at night? Another knock. Are you serious? Sleep is needed right now. You get up and open the door, fully prepared to yell at the person who was disturbing your sleep. But, it's Yuji.

He sees the look of annoyance on your face and debates on whether he should continue his speech or not. He takes the risk anyway.

“I need you to go to the living room,” he states.

“And why is that?” you ask, still obviously annoyed.

“Because! I was watching this horror movie and something moved, I swear. I ran and everyone else would yell at me! Except for you, of course,” he explains hastily. “I just wanna turn off the TV because I don't wanna hear things in my sleep and it's actually the TV noise,” he continues.

You feel bad. He’s had a living curse live inside of him and he's scared of a movie. But not any curse, the King of Curses. Maybe he has PTSD. Why would he even be watching a horror movie this late at night anyways? He doesn't like movies like that.

You give in. You tell him to get to bed while you turn off the TV. He smiles and hugs you tight. He wishes you a good night and that he’s sorry for interrupting your sleep. You grin at him in return and walk towards the living room, where the movie is playing.

When you enter the room, you don’t see a movie playing. The lights are also on. Did Yuji just lie to you? Now, you're furious. Not only did he lie to you, he woke you up at the Devil's hour just for a stupid prank.

You turn around and are about to head back to Yuji's room to give him a piece of your mind, but then you see Megumi. He’s holding two cups of hot chocolate. Tiny marshmallows are floating on top of them.

“Can we talk, please?’ He asks. He sees your shocked face. Then he sees it turns into a contemplative face. Why are you avoiding him? That hurts so much.

After a few seconds, you reply with “Why not? It would be a waste of a hot chocolate,” deciding to talk. His shoulders relax, glad that you said yes.

When you both sit on the couch, he starts the conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he points out.

“Well yeah, it's awkward and I don't want anything to happen between you and Hana if she sees me together with you,” you state. You're being considerate. You wouldn't like it either if a girl kept on hanging around your boyfriend.

“Nothing happening with me and Hana,” he states.

“But you gave her your sweater,” you explain.

“I don't like her. I was just being nice. It's what Gojo would've wanted. He would've wanted me to treat everyone nicer, especially if they risked their life to save me,” he states again. What he says next is appalling.

“I don't like her, I like you,” and suddenly, Megumi can't look you in the eyes anymore. His cheeks are getting rosy and his face is turned away. You're in awe. When has he shown any interest in you? He’s always been distant and quiet around you.

“I'm not even half as pretty as she is,” you try again. Maybe this is a prank, or even better, a dream.

He looks at you again. And this is all you need to know to know that this is all real. One look in his eyes and you're enchanted. He’s also mesmerized. He likes looking into your eyes.

“You’re prettier than her. You care so much for everyone around you and I like that about you. Ever since we were in middle school, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have you as a friend. But now since I’ve felt that, I wanna know what it's like to be yours,” he finishes. His whole face is slightly pink now. Even the tips of his ears are pink.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay, let's do this, then,” you state again with more confidence in your answer.

Megumi finally exhales on that. His shoulders relax again and he's able to smile. He never smiled when Hana was around. That should’ve been a dead give away that he didn't like her.

For the next hour, you and Megumi chat. You finish the hot chocolate and laugh when he gets a milk mustache.

When you finally say good night to each other, he walks you to your dorm room and tells you that he can't wait to see you later.

Getting back in bed, you check your phone on your nightstand. It has two messages and it's from Nobara.

Nobaka: Tell Yuji to shut up, I can hear him

Sent at 3:32 am

Nobaka: DID I JUST HEAR MEGUMI’S VOICE!?!!? THIS LATE AT NIGHT?!?! YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Sent at 4:35 am

Then you get a message from Megumi.

Megumi <3: Sleep well. And please block that guy from the ramen shop.

Sent at 4:37 am

You smile and set your phone back down on the table. Maybe December 11th isn't so bad after all to start dating Megumi Fushiguro.

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi angst #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk

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elieenaliak · 8 days ago

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LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — AND THEIR HOBBIES IN FREE HOURS.

amongst the many hobbies of your beautiful hard working husband, one of them stood out the most: racing. zayne drives with such grace, he probably would have received 16 missed calls from whole cast of fast furious asking him to be part of the next movie. treating patients with such patience by day, racing by night… what a man! He can afford it after all, so why not? he is the type to make you fresh orange juice with pulp in the morning and then go outside drift so effortlessly, it makes professional racers question their entire careers. he doesn't even need a coach—he learns purely through vibes and sheer elegance. he steps into a car, smells the air, analyses, feels it, does a couple of stretches, and suddenly it's like watching poetry in motion. you have no idea how he does it, you're not about to question a racer who hugs the apex like it's his favourite granny-who can explode- and still flips the softest, fluffiest pancakes before the next shift in hospital.

xavier, on the other hand, has the raw power for basketball but none of the coordination. you made him join the basketball club, this man had to do something sportif after all! though he got very passionate about basketball he could not play. his idea of a "drabble" is launching the ball into another building, and if you ask him to do a serve, he’ll literally twerk- he is serving after all?

he gets the hang of it eventually—almost a full year later, when everyone else has already moved on to their next hobby. now he’s just waiting for the basketball season to come back so he can finally convince everyone to play with him again. poor thing. you can find him standing outside the court with his basketball, looking like a stray dog waiting to be let inside.

sylus is… passionate about tennis. let's just leave it at that. he swings the racket like he's trying to destroy all his enemies along with it, and any unfortunate soul who dares to play against him ends up fearing for their life. And no, zendaya would NOT call him to join the cast of next challengers movie- he will still arrange it- every ball he hits sounds like gunfire, and the courts have a dedicated "sylus damage fund" because he’s broken so many rackets, fences, and possibly the willpower of a few umpires. he can not play, but he doesn't believe in "low peasant" talk - the racket he accidently sended to the orbit made scientists go insane. news headlines for the next month were "A RACKET SPOTTED IN SPACE!! ALIENS ARE REAL?!"

there’s also rafayel. or "rafayel-the-fashion" as he calls himself. the man who buys everything-everything- that is trending, both for you and himself. "We gotta slay honey" he tells you while buying latest glamour lois luivitton purses-not that you complaining. The man, the artist, the diva- he feels the aesthetic whenever he walks to any room and he adjusts to it, he buys closes which match with room design, he slayes.

"Design is soo gnarly an-" and now as soon as his art editor who he asked politely-made-to come to his house at 3am to discuss his new art piece he straight away indulges in description of the piece, untill he spots something, he stops, he squints, he watches, he observes- he notices something even lucifer would have diarrhea out of from.

"IS THAT FAKE CHANEL ON YOU?!" he shrieked in utter horror, falling to the nearest sofa, clutching to his chest. He couldn't believe it, he couldn't! the shear audacity! To come into his house in....in....this!- it is 3 am -"oh, I think I am having have heart attack or heart dead whatever you people call it!" he wailed "this is,th- I HOPE SOMEOME FARTS INTO YOUR BREATHING MACHINE WHEN YOU GET OLDER, YOU FASHION TERRORIST!!"

someone actually did fart into editors breathing machine years later- rafayel made sure of it.....

and finally, there's caleb, apart from his many hundred jet models collection, he buys you underwear. now, when he met you in university he knew- knew that he needs to be in charge of your underwear department. Though he restricted himself in takeover of such honourable post until you two got married.

you lost him in the mall? no, you didn't, he is in lingerie section, nodding at some cheetah print lingerie's like it was some soldiers doing admirable job in serving their country. he doesn't even ask for help, he knows. he knows what he is buying, what size he is buying, he feels it and he is not embarrassed, no. this man watched so many documentaries on "art of lingerie" you are surprised he doesn't even open his own business. you kind of found it cute until he crossed- bended- the line like now with his: "Baby maybe we just need to take one cup bigger so i can put my hands through it, yeah?"- people turned around passing by, eyes wide, desperately trying to not make eye contact.

your eye twitched, hell you think even you whole brain twitched. with voice which could be mistakenly taken for sweet you smiled "Caleb?"

"Yes, pipsqueak?"

"I have a gun on me"

"Yes. pipsqueak." though his poker face didn't match the way he clutched the bra of your size from the section, size bigger magically disappearing in air - he threw it across the shop, if he doesn't see it nobody sees it..

@uzmacchiato dividers!

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kitkatkitzune · 28 days ago

Text

STEPPING UP

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your daughter attends a daddy daughter dance.

Warnings: Mention of young pregnancy?, An absentee father, A drunk man, A tiny bit of angst, inconsistencies in the tense it’s written in (whoopsie)

Notes: I’m obsessed with this concept and I’m not sorry… also your daughter is named after Rory from Gilmore Girls. Sorry not sorry.

I’m going to start trying to post more consistently, I promise!! I’ve been busy lately, I swear I haven’t disappeared!!

Word Count: 2.1k

———————

When you picked your daughter up from school, you instantly knew that something was wrong. Rory was usually very bubbly and outspoken, excited to tell you all about her day but today, she was silent, leaning her head on the window as you drove home.

You really knew something was wrong when she instantly dropped her bookbag and ran to her room the second you stepped inside your apartment.

Being a single mother was hard, you had Rory when you were relatively young with your now ex-boyfriend. He would pop up every once in a while to say hi but he was never a constant in your or your daughter's life. It had also made dating hard, most men would run the second you mentioned your child, it was hard to find one that wouldn’t.

Still, your daughter always comes first which is why you drop your phone on the couch, ignoring the message from Elijah (a man you had been talking to) so you can follow Rory to her room.

You stand in the doorway for a moment before moving to sit on the edge of her bed. Rory had her face buried in her pillow, shaking as she sobbed. She doesn’t react when the bed dips from your weight but she does react when you begin to rub her back. She tenses up before beginning to sob harder.

Suddenly she turns and sits up, throwing herself into your arms, “Mama…”

You shush her softly, still rubbing her back as she cries. Once she mostly calms down you pull back, brushing some of her hair from her face while she hiccups.

“What happened, baby?” you ask softly.

“Why don’t I have a daddy?” she asks, eyes glimmering with tears.

You frown, “Sweetie, you do, he’s just… he’s not… around… much… you know this… sometimes you get to go out to eat with him… remember?”

Rory sniffles, rubbing at her eyes, “Everybody else has a daddy around! Why don’t I get one?”

“Rory…” you say quietly but she interrupts you, “Why can’t Mr. Elijah be my daddy?”

So maybe Elijah was more than just ‘a man you had been talking to’. You had been seeing Elijah for a little over a year, he had never been bothered by Rory, in fact, he’s quite good with her. The seemingly stoic man would play dress up and attend tea parties every time your daughter asked. He always made an effort to accommodate for her as well, always willing to adapt plans at the last minute. He understood and accepted the fact that the two of you were a package deal.

Your face flushes at the mention of Elijah, because you really did like him and you really hoped that your relationship could continue to bloom.

Pulling Rory back into a tight hug, you sigh, “Baby, what brought this up?”

She doesn’t answer, only nuzzling further into neck. You decide not to push her, allowing her to cling onto you until she falls asleep. It was the weekend so you weren’t too worried about messing up her sleep schedule. Carefully, you pull her off of you and tuck her into bed before going back to the living room.

On your way, you pick up her backpack, opening it to check her homework folder when something catches your eye. It’s a flyer from the school, advertising the daddy daughter dance next month. You let out a sigh as you connect the dots, realizing why your daughter was so upset.

A week had passed since the initial incident and Rory had mostly moved on from it. Still, you could tell she was distraught about it so you decided you were going to make a tough call. Literally.

Rory was still at school while you stood in the kitchen next to Elijah, with your phone in your shaking hand. Reluctantly, you dial your ex's number. You had thought about asking Elijah to take Rory, it was her first thought after all, and even though he clearly loves the girl and cares for her, you didn’t want to risk burdening him.

After the third ring Jonathan answered, “Who is this?”

You let out a sigh, trying your best to not let your voice shake, “It’s Y/N.”

“What do you want?” he asks, his tone clearly annoyed.

You stand up straighter even though he can’t see you, clearing your throat, “Rory has a dance…”

“So?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh, “It’s a daddy daughter dance… I’m calling to ask if you’d take her… so she isn’t… excluded…”

There’s silence for a moment and you feel rage beginning to bubble up in you but just as you’re about to yell at him he answers, “When is it?”

“It’s on the 30th, three weeks away at 6pm.”

Jonathan hums, “Alright, I’ll be there- and I'll even take her out to eat before, that way I can get the court mandated, monthly dinner out of the way at the same time.”

You decide it best to bite your tongue, your daughter was the sweetest little girl you ever could have asked for, you never understood how Jonathan couldn’t love her- why he didn’t want to spend time with her. He hardly follows the custody agreement, never really wanting to see her but anything you needed to get his permission for- like a small trip to the beach, he would not grant, just to upset you and keep a sense of control over you and your daughter.

Instead, you thank him, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. When you hung up, Elijah began to rub your back, pulling you to his chest to kiss your forehead.

And when your daughter got home, she was ecstatic to hear that her father would be taking her to the dance, she immediately asked to go dress shopping.

Working as a server, you weren’t super wealthy and had no choice but to set a limit on the amount you could spend on a dress for her. Unfortunately, Rory fell in love with a gorgeous, flowery, blue dress that was way out of the budget. Fortunately, Elijah was there, and he insisted on paying, even before Rory had picked out a dress outside of what you could afford. You told him that you’d pay him back but he refused.

“Seeing Rory’s little face light up is more than enough payment.”

Everything was going great until the night of the dance came. The dance didn’t start until 6pm but Johnathan said that he’d be there at 4pm to take her out to eat but he never showed up and now he wasn’t answering his phone.

Rory was sitting at the table, watching the clock that she had just learned how to read in school with a sad expression on her face.

You turn away from her, walking down the hall with your phone pressed to your ear, practically growling into the phone as you leave another voicemail, “Jonathan. This is the seventh time I’ve called you. It’s 4:30, where the hell are you?!”

When you walk back into the room, Rory immediately looks up at you. “Dad’s not coming, is he?”

You sigh, setting your phone on the counter, crouching in front of her, “I’m so sorry, baby,” you hold her hands in yours and smile sadly.

Just as the first tear is about to fall from her eyes, the doorbell rings, making Rory perk up, assuming it was her father. You, on the other hand, had a feeling that it wasn’t.

And it wasn’t. Rory flung open the door just as you appeared behind her, revealing Elijah, dressed in a fancy suit as he always was.

Rory let out a little sigh, “Oh, it’s you.”

Elijah frowns, crouching down in front of her, “You, Rory, should be at your favorite diner, eating fried mozzarella sticks like the picky child you are.”

You had invited Elijah over for a date night, you didn’t often get time alone together and you thought the dance would be the perfect opportunity to have a few hours to yourself.

“He… he’s not coming, I don’t think…” Rory began to rock back and forth on her heels, looking at the floor.

“Well, I think, he just needs a little reminder,” Elijah responds, standing up and for a moment, just a moment, you could have sworn you saw the veins beneath his eyes, ripple.

“Really?” Rory grins.

You take a step forward and press a kiss to the corner of Elijah’s mouth, you whisper, “Elijah… I, he’s probably drunk… you’re not going to be able to convince him…”

He hums, “Trust me, Darling, I can be very persuasive… and if not, I have another plan,” he then turns to your daughter, “just be ready Rory, you will be going to that dance.”

Elijah knocked on the door and straightened out his cufflinks, moments later it swung open to reveal Jonathan, in only his boxers, clearly not ready to go anywhere.

Jonathan looks Elijah up and down, “Did you miss the- the no soliciting sign?” his speech was slurred, a clear sign that he had been drinking.

Elijah raises a brow, “I am not here to sell you anything, I am here to tell you that you made a previous commitment to your daughter, Rory.”

“Oh hell,” Jonathan scoffs, “Let me- let me guess, you’re… you’re the whores new guy? She sent you here to what? Scare me?”

Elijah’s jaw clenches before he lets out a breath. He wanted nothing more than to grab the drunk man and put the fear of God into him, maybe even kill him. But alas, he could not, Jonathan still stood safely in the doorway of his home that Elijah had not been invited into.

“The stupid little bitch is fine… no dance, she’ll cry for a day before she forgets and moves on… she’s just a dumb kid…”

It would only take one toe out the door, Elijah told himself, only one drunken move out the door and I could strangle him.

Which is exactly what would happen.

It seemed that Elijah’s lack of response angered Jonathan, the drunken man leaned forward, his hand curling around the door frame and that was all Elijah needed. In a second, he had the man pinned to the side of the house by his throat.

Jonathan’s legs dangle as he desperately tries to touch the ground, gasping for breath.

Elijah had come here to convince Jonathan to go to the dance but the way he spoke about you, about your daughter, gave him a new purpose.

“You’re going to relinquish custody of Rory, granting Y/N full custody. And afterwards, you’ll never bother either of them even again…” Elijah releases his grip a bit, allowing Johnathan to slide down the wall.

The drunken man is horrified, “I’ll… I’ll go to the cops!”

“You won’t,” Elijah grins, pupils dilating.

When Elijah returned back to your home, there were only thirty minutes left before the dance started. Rory was sitting on the counter when he walked through the door, carrying a little bouquet of blue and white flowers.

“M’lady,” he greets you, before approaching Rory, holding the flowers out for her to take, “These are for you, sweet pea.”

Rory smiles and throws herself into his arms, he picks her up with ease, holding her on his hip.

“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t make him come… but I can take you, if you’d like… and if that’s okay with your mother…”

You smile softly, “Of course that’s okay with me.”

Rory clutches the flowers to her chest, “I wanted you to take me in the first place…”

Elijah looks at you, raising a brow, “Is that so?”

You sigh, “I didn’t want you to feel obligated…”

He chuckles, walking over to press a kiss to your forehead, “I never feel obligated when it comes to my favorite girls,” he turns his head to look at Rory, who he’s still holding, “Now we must go. There’s a dance waiting for us.”

“Wait wait!” you call out just as they’re about to reach the door, “I need a picture.”

After the dance, Elijah would take Rory to her favorite restaurant where she would eat her fried mozzarella sticks.

And days later, you received a letter in the mail from Jonathan’s lawyer, declaring he wanted to relinquish his custody rights, granting you full custody.

Finally, you could begin your new life with your daughter and your lover.

#kit kat writes <3 #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson imagine #fluff #angst

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cvnntagious · 5 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ pornstar!chris films with someone new ‧₊˚

꒰part two ✩꒱ (coming soon)

creeping into chris' condo as quiet as possible with a wrapped gift in hand, a large smile took up most of your face at the thought of him opening it. though, the more you explored the area, the more discouraged you got before eventually giving up with a loud sigh at the realization that he wasn't home. but then, where was he? he always told you when he was going to be out, but today? he didn't even so much as leave you a text.

if not for chris updating you on his whereabouts becoming routine, you truthfully would've thought nothing of his sudden absence, but with a confused look on your face, you found yourself setting his christmas present on the coffee table in front of you to plop down onto his couch. you slipped your phone out of your back pocket, instantly typing away at it.

it was simple and straight to the point, leaving no room for confusion; you'd never been the type to beat around the bush. you weren't upset, really—more like confused, is all. and you waited. sitting idly on his couch as you waited for that little 'delivered' alert to turn into 'read'.

it didn't.

not for a while, at least. you ended up leaving his house only about half an hour after you sent the message, seeing no reason in just sitting there overthinking it. but you still did. going on about your day, trying to distract yourself from that nagging voice in the back of your brain that whispered 'where's chris at? what's he doing?' and 'you're not special. he got bored of you, silly,' at any moment you weren't occupying your mind with something else.

you knew you were probably overreacting; being dramatic in a way chris wouldn't like if he could hear your thoughts. i mean, it's not even like you'd be that upset if he had gotten tired of you. he was only some good dick and a person to keep you company... every single day for the past month. shit, you needed to know. picking up your phone in a swift motion as you now sat on your own couch, having tried to watch a show as means to keep your mind off chris, you checked your notifications in hopes that you'd missed his text.

but something new caught your eye.

a notification from chris' twitter, far different than anything you'd imagined throughout the day. of course you clicked it, a small breath of relief coming from you as you'd immediately told yourself he must've been busy with his executives. oh, he was busy alright.

your eyebrows raised at the sight before you: a short clip of chris plowing into some blonde with big tits, her moaning and whining in such a forced way. he was grabbing and squeezing at them. i mean, shit, he wasn’t even a boobs guy. it was so unlike him, completely disregarding his original intent for his content—keep it authentic. the caption only contained the hub link, telling his fans to watch the full video there.

dread sounds about right. a look of dread spread across your face, as if you'd just witnessed your worst fear. except it wasn't your worst fear. at least you didn't think it was, until now.

without thinking, you found yourself in chris' messages again, seeing the 'delivered' alert still there like a taunt. it was a slap in the face, really. not even the fact that he'd went and filmed with someone else, but the way he'd so clearly purposely failed to give you any type of warning.

once you'd sent the message, seeing the little text below your blue message change to 'read' instantly, it all suddenly felt pointless — all the worrying throughout the day, the dread you felt when you watched the short clip chris posted, the hurt when you saw he ignored your message, and now, even the message you literally just sent to him.

w/c : 645

a/n : i'm gonna try to bust these out the best i can, but y'all might have to bare w me cs i'm proly the worlds slowest writer... this may overlap with the au calendar as well, so to be clear, this isn't my priority. if i have to postpone parts of this to keep up with the prompts, i will. that being said, hope you guys enjoy my first multi-part tumblr fic <3.

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

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pucksandpower · 2 years ago

Text

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader - Social Media AU

formulagossip added to their story

f1wagupdates

Liked by lightsoutmax, verstappenupdates, and 152,836 others

f1wagupdates Max Verstappen spotted leaving his hotel with a mystery woman this morning after celebrating winning his third World Championship last night. According to sources, the two partied together with the team and friends at a club following his victory before heading back to the hotel. Her face is hidden but rumor has it this could be a new romance for the World Champ. Looks like Max is enjoying the spoils of another successful season!

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lightsoutmax probably just a random groupie, max isn’t the relationship type

dutchlioness no way that’s a groupie

f1wagupdates i’m inclined to agree, they look pretty serious!

formulanone am i crazy or does that look like y/n leclerc to anyone else?

redbulletin you’re crazy

gridgossip i mean i wouldn’t be surprised. i bet this has been going on for a while between them! it would explain how she got the CTO job out of nowhere

f1girlie or she got it because she’s qualified and was literally trained by adrian newey to take over for him? it’s 2024, leave the misogyny at the door

maddermax i don’t think max would get involved with someone from his team

circuitqueen she looks so familiar but i can’t place her! it’s driving me crazy

verstappenupdates whoever she is, i need more details! our world champion’s love life is suddenly looking very interesting 😍

survivetodrive you need to learn how to stay out of drivers’ business

rblover for real! let the man live

maxverstappen1

Liked by y/n_leclerc, redbullracing, and 2,094,617 others

maxverstappen1 Five World Championships!

This one feels extra special because I get to celebrate with the love of my life who has been by my side for over three incredible years now ❤️

So I want to dedicate this championship to Y/N

Seeing Y/N thrive as Red Bull’s Chief Technical Officer and pursue her passion for motorsport after everything she has been through has been so special. Her brilliance and determination inspire me daily, both on and off the track. And her contributions to the team have been invaluable to our success. I am so lucky to have such an incredible partner to share these championships with

Winning races and championships is great but sharing my life with someone as smart, driven and caring as Y/N is the greatest gift I could ever ask for. I truly am the luckiest guy in the world. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us both. Here’s to many more years of continuing to chase our dreams together!

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redbullracing our world champion found his perfect match! wishing you both continued success and happiness 🤩

christianhorner so proud of you two. the ultimate power couple!

danielricciardo i knew something was going on there. congrats you two!

maxverstappen1 you don’t have to pretend like you didn’t know about us

y/n_leclerc you literally third-wheeled our last date night … and the one last month … and the one over summer break

y/n_leclerc i love you with all my heart, champion! thank you for always being my biggest supporter. so blessed to have you in my life 🥰

charles_leclerc how could you do this, y/n? after everything our family did for you?

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*this user has been blocked*

verstappenupdates our guy is all grown up 🥹 you two are goals!

f1wagupdates omg! when did this happen??? why has it been a secret for so long?

lightsoutmax pretty sure they got together the year before y/n was hired by red bull

redbulletin and they probably kept it a secret because people would have found a way to twist it into something negative

officialorangearmy relationship goals to the max! you two are perfect together 🧡

y/n_leclerc

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and 473,825 others

y/n_leclerc What a season! Winning a double championship for the second time feels so surreal. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my incredible team at Red Bull Racing who made this possible through their tireless hard work. We did it 🏆

And most of all, I am grateful for my incredible partner. Max, you’ve supported me every step of the way, encouraging me to follow my dreams and become who I was meant to be. You showed me what true unconditional love feels like

I am where I am now because of you. Your spirit pushes me to achieve greatness. Your kindness lifted me up when I needed it most. Your smile keeps me going on tough days. I couldn’t ask for a better teammate in life ❤️

The future is so bright for us. I can’t wait to see what we create together next. I love you! Let’s keep aiming for the stars ✨

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maxverstappen1 you make me so proud every day! loving and winning with you feels incredible. can’t wait for the rest of our lives together ❤️

redbullracing the ultimate teammate on and off the track! you two are unstoppable 👊

christianhorner red bull is lucky to have such a power pair leading our team. more glory to come!

danielricciardo you guys are relationship goals! congrats champs

charles_leclerc how long until you throw away this “fairytale” like you did our family?

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y/n_leclercfanpage our inspiring queen found her king! you give us hope that dreams do come true

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basketball-lesbians · 6 months ago

Text

Freefall

summary: The thing about Paige and Azzi is they were never any good at staying away from each other. Even when they really should.

The fwb pazzi fic that quite literally nobody asked for but I’m providing anyway.

pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff occasionally if you squint, fwb, cheating

disclaimer:

As the story progresses, some of this will be out of character for Paige, especially with Azzi (she's lowkey an asshole at times in this storyline). There is cheating in this fic (NOT between Paige and Azzi), I don't condone it, but I did write it. I literally just wrote this because I could not get the prompt out of my head and bc I think it’s hot, lol. None of this has been beta’d, please do not repost/distribute anywhere else. Hope you enjoy these silly gay bitches being obsessed w each other :)

—

It was something they’d fought about a thousand times: the impending end of their time together at UCONN, whether Azzi would declare, how they would manage being thrust into being a long distance relationship again- if the cards fell that way.

Each time they’d fought about it, they would inevitably come to a resolution that it wasn’t worth stressing about before they had to- that they should treasure the moments they had left and live in the moment while it lasted. No matter how much that conclusion equally made Azzi’s stomach turn, ever the over-thinker, Paige would soothe her with that sweet, gentle voice she reserved for only her, and brush her loose curls behind her ear as she pressed sweet kisses to her face, and Azzi would let it go.

This time though, they hadn’t had such luck. They’d been arguing ahead of the season starting for an hour- loud enough that it echoed off the walls of the shared apartment, leading Ice and the other girls to take it as a sign and leave to give them privacy.

“No Paige, you’re not listening to me!” Azzi shouts, tears welling in her eyes as she flings her hands in a gesture of frustration that shows her desperation.

“How the fuck am I not listening to you?” Paige bites back defensively, her tone hot with anger. At that, Azzi scoffs, turning around to wipe the tears from her eyes harshly. The site of her back turned as she sniffles and wipes her face clearly melts away at Paige’s resolve, and it’s quiet for a ten count before her voice softens. “Baby, we’ve been at this for an hour.” She says, clearly exasperated.

“No. For months.” Azzi corrects pointedly, turning on her heel to meet Paige’s gaze. Her voice is unsteady, but the words are sharp and sure. There’s sincerity behind it, and they both know the implications of what she’s saying as it settles into the room.

It hangs heavy in the air between them, but neither of them manages to address it, just staring at each other. “And we’re no closer to resolving it.” It slips from her lips before she really thinks about it, and even though she means it, she feels bad as soon as she says it. She knows it was a low blow, speaking something aloud that so evidently assigned blame to Paige’s career.

Paige’s frame suddenly seems small in the low lighting of the room. She stares at the ground midway between them, not quite bold enough to look Azzi right in the face. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Azzi.” She mutters, defeated.

Azzi nods, wetting her lips. She would never ask Paige to choose her over her career, in any capacity. As teenagers, they’d conspired dreams about how they’d play together in college, spend every day together in practice and win championships before declaring for the draft and entering the league together. Azzi had finished college in 3 years just so they could stay in the same class.

But life hadn’t quite worked out that way. Yes, they’d both gotten to UCONN. They’d even gotten as close to a championship as the final four, more than once. But in three years, they’d only played 17 games together, injuries always getting in the way.

Now, almost a year after her second ACL tear, Azzi was close to coming back- this time, hopefully more permanently. But Paige was expected to declare after the end of her fifth year of playing at UCONN, her eligibility to stay in college gone, and nobody- including herself- was sure if the time was right for Azzi to declare, having missed so much play time throughout her collegiate career.

She knew the importance that getting to the league held to Paige. To both of them. She would never want to put herself before that. She did wish, though, that just for once, Paige would at least admit that the tensions that declaring brought with it were causing issues between them.

Really what she wishes is that she would hold her and apologize for the stress it caused, and promise that she would still be her priority, no matter where the draft took her. But Paige, ever so stubborn and never one to take blame if she didn’t have to, had yet to do so.

“You know what? Nevermind. I don’t know why I even brought it up.” Azzi grumbles, reaching for her sweatshirt that was slung over the back of Paige’s desk chair.

“Hey,” Paige says in protest, stepping toward her to grab her hand. “Paige, please.” Azzi sighs, glancing at their hands together before meeting the blonde’s eyes, glossy with tears. They share a pained look, but neither of them says anything. Paige drops her hand as Azzi reaches for her bedroom door. “I’ll see you at practice.” She says, closing the door behind her.

—

To make matters worse, when her alarm goes off the next morning, Azzi discovers that in her overly tired and emotional state after coming back from Paige’s, she’d set her alarm for 45 minutes after what she normally would to get ready for practice. She groans as she wakes up, rolling over to pick up her phone, turning off the alarm.

When she sees the time, she throws the blankets off, scrambling to her feet. She pulls her bonnet off and tosses it to her bedside table, grabbing a hair-tie left behind by Paige and pulling her curls back as fast as she can. Nearly falling over as she pulls on a pair of sweats and a hoodie she's pretty sure is her girlfriends', she rushes into the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth, splashing cold water on her face in a desperate effort to wake herself up, not bothering to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Of course this would happen to her the day of the first official practice back.

She grabs her practice set and court shoes and tosses them into her duffel along with another change of clothes, quickly grabbing a few hair care products and hygiene items to get ready with after practice before zipping it closed and slinking out the door. She gets down one out of three flights before realizing her keys aren’t in her hand. She groans in frustration, hanging her head in exasperation for a moment before turning around and running back up the flight of stairs she’d just come down, swiping her card to get back into her apartment to grab her keys.

Once she finds them, she rushes back down the stairs a second time, jogging across the walkway into the lot to her jeep as she checks her watch for the time. Shit. There was no way she was making it on time. She tosses her bag into the backseat before climbing into the drivers seat, and when she does, she’s instantly met with the realization that Paige was the last person to drive her car- she’d taken it for an oil change over the weekend because Azzi had studying she’d needed to do.

It’s evident in the way that her seat is slightly further back to account for Paige’s long legs, the smell of her cologne still barely in the air, and finally, when the engine turns over, the way that the speakers are turned to full volume once her phone resyncs to the audio system.

She flinches, partially at how bad she feels for picking a fight with Paige last night and partially at how loud the music comes through the speakers. She cranks the dial down after nearly jumping out of her skin, reversing out of her parking spot and out of the lot, probably a little bit faster than she should.

—

She pulls into the practice facility and manages a parking job she’s sure she’ll hear about in the team group chat later before speed walking inside, her bag hitting her knee awkwardly every other step. She swipes herself into the facility and immediately rushes to the team room and then to the changing rooms, throwing on her practice set and pulling out her shoes to walk to the courts. She tries to slink into the gym without being noticed, but the girls are already running drills across the court, so there’s nothing to distract CD from clocking her as soon as she rounds the corner.

Azzi offers an apologetic smile, and for a second she actually thinks that the pathetic look on her face might have spared her from a lecture when CD’s expression softens as she looks at her, but then she hears it. Geno’s loud voice booms across the gym- calling her out in front of the entire team and staff.

“Azzi Fudd! How nice of you to make an appearance.” He chides, hands wide as he makes a big gesture at her in disbelief, walking towards her. She nods, dropping her court shoes to the floor, slipping her slides off to change into them. “I know- I’m so sorry,” She acknowledges, not bothering to provide an excuse, because she knows by now how their coaching staff feels about them.

“Mmm. Just decided since you aren’t fully cleared you don’t need to be here?” He asks sharply, and even though she knows he doesn’t actually think that about her, and that he’s just annoyed and trying to prove a point, it still stings. “No, I-“

She stops herself, knowing she’s getting emotional and about to launch into a defensive explanation for no reason. It was a shitty feeling right now, but he’ll forget about it before the week’s out. “No excuse, Coach. It won’t happen again.”

Even though he’s barely taller than her, she feels small as he looks at her intently. “Better not. Get your mind right, kid.” She nods, kneeling down to tie her shoe. He turns away from her, spurring the girls on the court into switching to another drill.

CD takes his place next to her, leaning over slightly so she can hear her without her having to raise her voice. “Brush it off. Lynn’s waiting for you in the team room,” She says, patting Azzi on the back as she stands up.

She nods, smoothing a hand over her hair as she offers a small smile in response. Subconsciously, her eyes scan the group of girls on the court for Paige as she walks back out of the gym, although she hears her before her eyes actually find her.

“Box out, box out! You can’t leave him open like that!” She yells to the underclassmen as she runs under the basket to rebound a shot thrown up by one of the practice players, dribbling it back outside the key and retaking the possession. Azzi smiles to herself slightly at that, walking under the banner that hangs over the doors on her way out.

Paige’s gaze finds Azzi’s figure walking out as she resets, closing in on the three point line. She pump fakes the practice player thats guarding her and pivots hard to the left, losing him fully, before coming up for a wide open jumpshot three.

Azzi’s already turned the corner and walked out of the gym by the time the ball leaves her shooting hand, but her eyes still come back to the doorway to look for her. When she doesn’t find her there, her gaze snaps back to the hoop. The shot bounces off the shooting square of the backboard, rolling around the lip of the rim tantalizingly before tipping out of the basket. Miss.

—

Paige wrings her hair out with her towel, the material of the dri-fit shirt she’d pulled on sticking to her back with her movements. The chatter from the other girls that would usually fill the locker room is non-existent this morning, Paige having stayed significantly late after practice to get extra shots up and talk to Geno.

The stress of this season was already weighing on her, but she was determined to rise to the occasion and use this season, her last, to get the Huskies to championship number 12. She’d always had a chip on her shoulder, but this year, with all the media speculation and attention, she was committed to showing up and showing out- to do what she came here to do.

No matter what the cost was. It was something she needed to prove to herself.

She sighs, hanging up the towel into her locker, and drops her hygiene bag into the open drawer of her locker, nudging it shut with her hip.

She barely hears when Azzi enters the locker room from the team room, shower kit in hand to head to where Paige had just emerged from.

“Hey,” Azzi says, a quiet start to a conversation they both know is going to feel like ripping off a bandaid. Paige nods at her, lifting a hand under her shirt to apply deodorant. Azzi’s eyes briefly skim the exposed section of taut midriff that flashes before her shirt falls back to cover it again. “Hey. Didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, um. Stayed back for some cupping.” She shifts her clothes and shower kit between her hands awkwardly, lingering in place solely to talk to the other girl, who’s nodding along as she combs through her drawer, evidently looking for something specific.

“Talked with Lynn a little bit about the conversations I’ve been having with Carl,” She says, a touch of hopefulness in her voice evident at the mention of her recovery timeline.

Paige offers a slight smile at that, running lotion over her hands and face. “That’s good,” She says, pulling a hoodie on over her t-shirt. “You wanna get breakfast after you shower, talk about last night?” She asks, finally turning to look at Azzi fully.

Azzi doesn’t miss the way her tone is just a little short, her expression tense, like she’s holding back from her. She hates when she gets like this after they fight- understands it, but hates it, nonetheless.

“I have class after this,” She reminds her gently- a byproduct of the fact that Azzi had chosen in person classes while Paige had adamantly tried to keep the both of their schedules as fully online as possible.

Paige purses her lips slightly and nods, reaching for her bag. “Right. Okay,” She says, putting her shoes in the top of her locker and tidying up her space. “Well, I guess lemme know when you have time to talk, then.”

“Paige, hey.” Paige looks up, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. “What’s up?” She asks, her voice almost impatient, like she's waiting for Azzi to finish her thought so she can leave.

“I-“ Her voice falters, not sure of what to say. After not interacting at all since their fight last night, Azzi wasn’t sure what to say.

She thought they’d both soften by the time they talked about it, and maybe they had- but an immediate rejection the second that Paige offered to talk definitely hadn’t helped. Now she was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out a way to walk that back before Paige walked out of the room.

“I finish with classes at 4. Do you wanna meet at my apartment?” Paige frowns. “We were gonna go to the women’s soccer game tonight, we talked about it in practice.” She says flatly.

Azzi nods, pretending it didn’t sting that the season had literally barely started and she’d already been left out of team conversations due to being benched. “Okay. After that?”

Paige sighs, pulling her phone out of her pocket when it starts ringing. “Shit. It’s Brittany, I gotta take this.”

Azzi draws her bottom lip between her teeth and raises her eyebrows, nodding. “Okay.” She says as Paige walks past her and towards the door.

She turns to acknowledge Azzi as she passes at least, which softens the blow.

“Sorry for not telling you about the soccer thing, it was an impromptu idea that got brought up this morning. You’re obviously invited,” She says, before drawing her thumb across the screen and pulling her phone to her ear.

“Yeah. I’ll text you,” Azzi calls after her, and Paige throws a pointer finger up in acknowledgment as she walks out.

So much for talking about it.

—

She gets ready quickly after her shower, not liking how quiet the facility was when the whole team wasn’t there, filling it with buzzing energy and a love for the game.

She pulls her hair back and makes faces at herself in the mirror for a minute before heading to her locker and putting away the gear she kept at the facility, packing up the rest in her duffel.

She pulls her phone and keys out of her bag, looking at her phone for the first time since she’d gotten to the facility. Really, for the first time since she’d been awake, what with the way she’d woken up.

She unlocks her phone and navigates to messages, where she sees 5 unread messages from Paige. Furrowing her brows, she opens their pinned conversation.

Paige Madison 💗:

12:07am: Hey, I’m sorry about tonight. Can I come up?

12:22am: I love you, Az

1:12am: U still tryna ride w me to practice?

4:45am: Should I wait for you or nah?

5:20am: Yo, you good? Getting worried now.

Azzi sighs, running her free hand over her face, frustrated. No wonder she was short with her this morning.

She probably thought she had ignored her all night, and as soon as she’d asked her to go with her to get breakfast and talk this morning, Azzi had turned her down. If Azzi knew anything about Paige from the last 7 years, it was that she hated feeling rejected.

Feeling guilty, she types out a response.

9:11am: I’m so sorry, I just saw this. I went straight to sleep and then overslept this morning

9:11am: I’m okay. I’m sorry if I worried you

Then, after a beat:

9:13am: I love you too

—

Collegiate soccer games are 90 minutes, divided into two 45 minute halves. Azzi knows this because she googled it. Twice.

The soccer game had started at 5:30, and Azzi had too much homework to go, which she’d texted to the team chat. Ice had tried to drag her with her on her way out the door, but Azzi held her ground, knowing she needed to stay on top of her coursework as the season ramped up, or she’d regret it later.

The girls complained in the groupchat at her absence, which made her feel a little less bad, but Paige had largely not acknowledged her since their tense conversation in the locker room- aside from a response to the messages Azzi had sent when she finally looked at her phone this morning.

Paige Madison 💗

9:43am: All g. Lmk if you still wanna talk after the game

So she’d texted back after her class-

11:12am: Ofc. I just have some hw I’ll be working on but I’ll be at home after my class ends at 4

And although Paige had heart reacted to it, Azzi was still feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing.

Now it was 8:24, and Azzi’s done the math- even accounting for timeouts, substitutions, and a break at half, and even if they went into overtime, it’s getting late.

There’s nothing in the chat about the game going long or traffic being bad or something coming up- so even though she tries to assure herself it’s nothing, she’s slowly becoming convinced that it’s definitely something.

—

When the group finally comes barreling through the door, Azzi’s moved to her bed to be more comfortable, giving up on trying to stay up. She isn’t sure what time it is, but she knows it’s late enough for her to be justified in being bothered.

She goes to check her phone. 1:41am, and still no texts from Paige. Nice.

The girls erupt in laughter in the living room, and she hears Paige’s voice amongst them. “Yo, yo. Shut up, f’real. You’re acting dumb as fu-“ Her words are cut off by very obviously running her shin into something- Azzi would assume the ottoman she left sticking out.

For a second, she almost feels bad. Almost.

“Ohhhh, fuck me.” Paige groans out loudly, and then there's what sounds like her jumping on one foot to hold her leg.

The other girls cackle at her obnoxiously, and Azzi huffs, resolving to get out of bed so all the girls make it to theirs safely. She switches on the light in her room, pulling her robe on, and the way she can hear the girls scatter at the sound makes her feel like she’s somebody’s mother.

She pulls her door open, and Ice is laying on the floor clutching at her stomach in laughter while she watches Paige nurse her leg leaning against the wall. She hears Morgan giggling somewhere on the couch, and the smell of liquor coming off of the trio does not impress her at all.

She stands with her hands on her hips just outside the living room, staring at Ice. Ice giggles anxiously when she sees her, scooting across the floor and away from her.

“Isuneh,” Azzi warns, walking toward her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” She laughs out, clearly picking up on Azzi’s agitation, despite being inebriated to the extent that she is.

“We should have texted- the girls won, like totally kicked Boston’s ass, and they wanted to go to Ted’s with us, so…” She trails off, and Azzi sighs, turning to find the other two in the dimly lit room.

Morgan, to her credit, seems the least drunk out of the three of them, but she’s entirely too bubbly considering that it’s nearly midnight on a monday.

Azzi gestures towards Morgan, not acknowledging Paige yet. The tension it adds to the room is palpable. “Do you need help getting to bed?” Azzi asks, a gentle lilt in her voice despite being annoyed.

She wasn’t trying to ruin the freshman’s fun just because she was having a bad day. Morgan shakes her head, standing slightly unsteadily.

Azzi sighs, leaning down to grab Ice’s hands and pull her up and lean her against the couch. “Get some sleep,” She says to Morgan. “Pain meds are in the cabinet above the coffee maker, I’ll make sure there’s food in the morning.”

Morgan smiles nervously at her, her posture small. “Thanks, Az,” She whispers, and Azzi nods at her, offering a small smile back.

Ice slumps into Azzi’s shoulder, giggling again. Azzi hits her shoulder, only slightly playfully. “You should know better, Isuneh,”

She scolds, pushing her back against the couch again so she can swing an arm beneath hers and get her to her bedroom.

“It’s a frikin' Monday night.” She says incredulously, mostly to herself.

Ice laughs at that before groaning, reaching for her stomach. “No, no, no,” She rushes to get out. Azzi cranes her neck to look at her.

“What?” She asks, and Ice gags. Azzi winces, saying a silent prayer that nothing comes up, and that if it does, it somehow manages to avoid her.

Ice drops her weight back towards the couch and out of Azzi’s reach. “Don’t move me, just let me die here.” She says dramatically, and Azzi makes a face, staring at her for a moment, calculating.

She sighs, picking up her feet and putting her fully on the couch. She walks to the closet just outside the living room and pulls out a blanket, fanning it out over Ice so she can at least hopefully get comfortable and sleep this off.

She feels Paige’s gaze on her, but she makes no effort to acknowledge it. She walks to the kitchen and gets a glass of water, bringing it back to the drunken girl sprawled out on the couch. “Here,” She says, holding out the glass in one hand and two aspirin in the other.

“You’re gonna wanna get ahead of this before the morning,” She says when Ice stares at her blankly. “I don’t know if I can even swallow that,” Ice slurs, trying to sit up and missing when she tries to plant her arm, nearly dropping off the side of the couch and into Azzi’s leg.

She grimaces, leaning out of the contact, and resettles Ice onto the cushions. “Come on. Take this and I’ll let you sleep.” Ice sighs loudly, reaching for the pills and taking them from Azzi’s hand.

The glass, however, she simply presses her lips to, rather than taking it from Azzi’s hand.

“Oh my god,” Azzi mutters, tilting the glass slowly so the water flows into Ice’s mouth. She swallows loudly, opening her mouth wide after the fact to show off that the pills were gone.

Azzi chuckles to herself. “Very nice,” She credits, pulling the blanket over the taller girl once she settles back on the couch.

Ice sighs, bringing the blanket to her chin. “Thanks, crazy Azzi. Don’t have too much fun with Paigey-Waigey. I’ll be able to hear it from here.” She giggles, wagging her finger at Azzi suggestively. Azzi rolls her eyes, taking the glass back to the kitchen. As if.

She walks back through the living room and Paige is already looking at her, her hand still over her shin. Azzi sighs. “Are you okay?” She asks, gesturing loosely at her leg.

Paige nods, her eyes obviously tired, and moves to try and stand, using the wall for aid. Azzi comes slightly closer, so if she falls she’d be able to catch her, and watches her carefully. “‘M fine, Az. I’m not even that drunk.” She defends, and Azzi rolls her eyes yet again.

“Right.” She says. Paige clears her throat, awkward, using the opportunity of being braced against the wall to catch her breath. “Do you need the couch or can you make it downstairs?” Azzi asks, and Paige furrows her eyebrows.

“Oh. Uh,” She pauses, looking around. Azzi swallows. She’d obviously planned to stay with her tonight.

The assumption that she would stay with Azzi would be sweet if she hadn’t left her hanging for hours, not texted, and then shown up drunk at midnight on a weeknight- if she hadn’t said they could talk tonight, and then completely stood her up. But she did.

“Come on. You probably wouldn’t make it down those stairs in once piece anyway.” She grumbles, grabbing Paige’s arm and guiding her to her bedroom. Paige starts to protest, but quickly drops it.

The younger girl makes sure Paige gets to the bed, and then turns to close the bedroom door. She pulls her robe off and drapes it back over her desk chair, Paige’s eyes tracking her movements intently.

“You look good, mama,” Paige draws, and Azzi scoffs. “Absolutely not, Paige Madison.” She clears, walking towards the bed, deliberate in staying out of Paige’s reach.

Paige’s eyebrows draw up in surprise, and Azzi stares at her incredulously, her clueless reaction making frustration flash in her chest.

“What? Did you drink so much you forgot we were supposed to talk?” Azzi asks, unable to help herself, and as soon as she says it, she regrets it.

She knows better than that, she should have waited until tomorrow to do this. It’s only going to cost them both sleep, and Paige probably won’t even remember it in a few hours.

Paige breathes heavily, leaning forward so her forearms are braced against her quads as she leans over, feet square on the ground. “Fuck, Az. ‘M sorry,”

Azzi bites at the inside of her cheek, weighing whether or not to engage further. “Seriously, Paige? What, you just spaced it?” Paige winces when she raises her voice. “No, I-“ She stops, holding her head.

She looks up at Azzi, squinting, even just from the normal lighting in her room. “We went out for dinner and a couple of drinks. I meant to text you, honest. We got caught up and…” She trails off, and Azzi’s mouth goes dry.

“And what, Paige?” She asks. The blonde groans next to her. “I’on even know,” She complains, hanging her head, and in any other situation, Azzi would sympathize more and pull her under the blankets, play with her hair and let her fall asleep on her chest.

But right now, tears are brimming her eyes and she can’t even bring herself to touch her hand. “You couldn’t even muster the presence of mind to have somebody else text? Or, god forbid, you couldn’t have just made it a priority to get back to me so we could have this stupid conversation?”

Paige's eyebrows furrow, looking up at her. “Wh’d’you mean, stupid conversation? If it’s about us and it’s important, how is it stupid?”

Azzi purses her lips, beyond frustrated that she can pick a fight over minced words but won’t actually address the problem that’s been hanging over them for months. “You tell me, Paige. You’re the one who couldn’t make it a priority.”

“I’m sorry, Az. You gotta understand, dude, I got a lot going on, and I was already upset-" Azzi laughs at that, throwing her hands up.

“You were upset? Paige, you barely even talked to me today. And then you stood me up when we were finally supposed to actually talk.”

“Whoa, you started the “barely talking” thing. You didn’t even answer my texts til practice was over the next morning.” Paige says, scooting back in the bed to lean against the wall and get further from Azzi. “Yeah, because I fell asleep. I told you that.” Azzi argues.

“Okay, well I tried to talk with you earlier, and you were too busy.” Paige stabs back. “No, Paige, I wasn’t “too busy”. I had classes. Classes I am trying to stay on top of so that you and I can have time together outside of the season and actually enjoy the last year we have together before who fucking knows what happens!”

Paige laughs. “Dude, you think I don’t understand that? That’s why I tried to get as many online classes as possible. You’re making me out to be this villain who like, doesn’t wanna be around you or something, and that’s not fuckin’ true. I’m trying so hard to be on top of classes and be a good leader for the team and keep myself in a good position to get to the league-“ Azzi cuts her off cold.

“Exactly, Paige! It’s always about the league. Your priority is always the league. And I get that that’s your dream- it’s my dream too. But fuck, Paige. It’s gonna fucking happen either way. You’ve been projected as first pick for over a year. We could bomb all season long and it wouldn’t matter- you’re getting to the W. I wish you could admit that it’s such a fucking given and focus on literally anything else for one goddamn minute.”

Paige scoffs, standing up, her blue eyes wide in disbelief. "Yes, Azzi, the league is my priority." She stares at the other girl dubiously, like she's trying to figure out why the hell that's coming as a shock. "If you don't understand that, maybe we're not doing what I thought we were doing here," She rushes out, gesturing loosely between them.

Her words send Azzi's head spinning, so much that she barely hears the next words out of her mouth.

"Going pro is everything we ever talked about. Getting drafted is foundational to the fucking life we always planned on. You being injured and not knowing when you’re declaring is fucking complicated and it weighs on you, I know. I’m sorry if you feel like I don’t focus on that enough." Anger rises in Azzi's throat at that, but Paige is quick to resume her point, not giving her a chance to verbalize it.

"It's not that I don’t care- but that only adds to the importance of me getting my foot in the door to ensure we have a good fucking life set up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Azzi mutters, looking at the blonde in disbelief. "What, you think because I’m too fucking fragile you need to get into the league so we can ensure a paycheck?"

Her eyes sting as tears begin to well, threatening to fall. "You think I’m that incapable? That weak?" She asks, looking up at Paige from where she sits on the bed, her voice breaking.

Paige sighs, working her jaw, resolve clearly fractured by Azzi’s reaction. “No, Azzi, that’s not what I-“

“You have that little faith in my future?” Azzi asks, drawing into herself as she leans against her headboard, her arms crossing over her chest. Tears run over and fall down her face now, bottom lip quivering in a way that makes Paige’s stomach churn.

Paige moves to get closer to her, her movements still a little bit sluggish, despite how much the argument had sobered her up. “No, baby, hey-“ She reaches for her hand, and Azzi quickly pulls away, shoving at her to put distance between them.

Paige is taken aback, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Whoa, hey,” She says, trying to soothe the other girl, but Azzi is inconsolable. She hasn’t felt this betrayed, this misconstrued since she was a child. She had definitely not ever felt this way by Paige’s hand, and she didn’t think she ever would.

The self doubt and concern about coming back from this injury was something that weighed on her constantly- and she’d gotten good at hiding it, sure. Sometimes she was so good she even almost fooled herself.

But it was there. It lived deep in her chest, a voice that spoke to her every time she missed a shot in the gym she knew she should have made.

It kept her awake at night, even with Paige’s body pressed against hers, sound asleep. It was the reason she spent so much time wondering if she was even good enough to make it to the league at all- if she’d even deserved to come to UCONN, if she’d pulled her weight since being there.

Although the comment the other girl had made about their relationship maybe “not doing what she’d thought” had hurt, the mere thought of Paige questioning her abilities made her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“Azzi, that is not what I was trying to say,” Paige promises, leaning closer to try and get Azzi to focus on her rather than whatever thoughts she was quite evidently spinning in her head.

“Hey, look at me, Az,” Paige tries again, reaching to touch her face. Azzi flinches away from the contact, wiping at her face furiously. “Just go.” She says, sniffling as she leans away from the blonde.

Paige watches her with her mouth just barely open, unable to come up with a response. “Wh- don’t you think we need to talk about this?” She tries, but the other girls’ mind is made up, withdrawn from the conversation.

“I don’t wanna argue with you anymore, Paige. Just go, I’m serious.” She says, her voice small. Paige sighs, running her hands over her face.

She can’t just leave when Azzi looks so sad like this. "Come on, Az." She pleads. “That’s not what I meant, can we just-“

“Paige, I want to be left alone. Can we please just not?” Azzi croaks, pulling a pillow over her chest and furthering the barriers between the two girls. The blonde wets her lips, starting to reply and then stopping, not sure where to pivot from here.

“It’s not like it matters, anyway.” Azzi mutters, wiping at her nose. Paige’s expression drops, eyebrows knitting together as she looks at the other girl.

“Doesn’t matter? To who? What is that even supposed to mean?” She asks, hurt rising in her chest.

Azzi looks up at her, her eyes puffy from crying, her expression exhausted. “Come on, Paige. We’ve been arguing over this for months, we’re not going to magically stumble upon a solution tonight.” She says, her voice scratchy- and Paige can’t tell if its from being tired or from crying. “You’re not even sober.”

Paige stares at her, indignant at the suggestion that she wasn’t sober enough to defend her career and fight for their relationship. If Azzi was going to take dirty hits, she wasn’t going to let what she’d said go.

“Who does it not matter to, Azzi?” She repeats. Azzi narrows her eyes, scoffing at the blonde in disbelief. “I’m not doing this with you right now.” She states, getting off the bed and walking across the room to put distance between them.

Paige follows suit, getting to her feet and standing behind her, refusing to let her walk away. "I asked you a question.” She states, insistent, and Azzi turns around, adamant brown eyes meeting stubborn blue.

“No, Paige.” She says firmly. Her inflexible tone only ramps the blonde up further. “What do you mean, “no”? We’re having a conversation.”

“Not anymore, we’re not." She shuts her down simply. "Azzi." Paige prompts.

"You know I don’t like when you get like this.” Azzi says, staring daggers at her before pushing past to get around her. “Azzi.”

Paige turns her body with the movement and grabs for her wrist. Azzi pulls away hard, like her flesh is burning in the blonde’s grip. “No, Paige. I’m done. Go home.”

Frustrated tears fall silently down her pale cheeks, and she wipes at them with the back of her hand, only irritated further by their presence.

“You’re ‘done’?” She asks, incredulous, a scoff ripping its way up from the back of her throat. Loose strands of blonde hair that came undone from her bun throughout the drunken activities of the night frame the desperate look on her face.

Azzi crosses her arms, keeping distance between them. “I’m serious, Paige. Go.” She repeats, and Paige wants to scream. Her mind is moving too fast and too slow at the same time- she doesn’t know if she should storm out, raise her voice, or drop to her knees and beg Azzi to let her stay and try and make up.

As soon as that mental image crosses her mind, anger flashes in her chest at the fact she’d thought it in the first place. She hadn’t even done anything wrong aside from getting drunk when she shouldn't have. Why was she being crucified for trying to make a life for them?

Was she the only one who’d meant it all the times they’d talked about getting to the league, building a family, and living on the coast?

The anger in her chest bubbles over, and she can’t even see straight. “You know what, Azzi? Fine. Maybe its better off that way, anyway. We both could stand to lock in this year, without any distractions.” She spits.

Before Azzi can get her mouth to open, she's closing the door behind herself- and then she's gone.

Hey y’all! Here's a little something I've been working on. This is part 1 of multiple, idk how many yet. This chapter is really just to set up the rest of the story- the rest from here on out will be a lot more fun, I promise. This was not beta’d at all, so be warned! Any comments/shares/love is sooo appreciated. Thank you and I really hope you guys enjoy!

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #uconn wbb #paige x azzi #az35 #uconn cwbb #uconnwbb #wbb

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