#sarcastic when she needs to be but always there for you

[lovinpelova]

unknowns | n. mühl

summary; you turn her entire world upside down.

🎵 dunno - mac miller

uconn was known for the student-athlete parties they threw and there was no doubt about that, so as your friend aubrey invited you to celebrate the women's basketball team winning the big east tournament you'd immediately agreed. you hadn't been to many parties before due to being too busy studying or simply being too tired, but you'd dropped aubrey off to multiple and they always looked insane.

your best friend had barged into your dorm earlier that afternoon and slammed your revision books shut, silencing your protests with a statement confirming the huskies had booked their ticket to the ncaa championship and were going to be celebrating that night at a local frat house.

"oh fuck yeah! i love those girls."

"that's what i'm talking about girl! now lets get dressed, it starts in five hours and you know how i like my makeup done."

you stood up and led her to your bedroom, opening the section of your wardrobe that had some clothes from her previous party outfits when she had slept over.

"i'll never understand why you spend so much time doing your makeup if you're just gonna ruin it within a couple minutes."

aubrey scoffed as she dug through her clothes, finding a few candidates and finally deciding on a slim black dress that you gave her a thumbs up to when she sent you a questioning look.

"don't wear your heels, you can never walk in them."

"thanks babe! and i do my makeup so i can attract hot boys to ruin it within a couple minutes."

"oh, gross."

you rolled your eyes at her antics as she playfully blew you a kiss and you flipped her off, lying back comfortably on your bed whilst contemplating outfit choices. aubrey had left a couple minutes later after realising she needed to get makeup from her dorm, practically sprinting down the hallway as you watched her almost run into someone out of excitement, heading back into your room to decide on what to wear.

four and a half hours later, aubrey was finally ready. you'd waited until the last hour and a half to start getting ready, knowing it wouldn't take you as long as her, before putting on a simple pair of straight-legged jeans and expensive top alongside your favourite pair of shoes. you wanted to wear a jacket over it but remembered there'd be nowhere to put it and aubrey was never a good person to look after your belongings when she was drunk too.

"aubs come on we're gonna be late!"

"shut the fuck up i'm coming!"

the shorter woman pushed past you and flicked your forehead as you looked down with a raised eyebrow, your height intimidating her whilst you locked up your room and headed towards the parking lot.

"what the fuck did you get fed to be so damn tall?"

"nothing you ate that's for sure."

aubrey let out a sarcastic laugh and got in the passenger seat of your car, informing you of the usual party place it was supposed to be at and gladly realising she was right when you arrived ten minutes later. it was still early but there were definitely people present, music could be heard from multiple blocks away and cars were parked stupidly all over as students ran across the roads in front of your car.

"damn, all this just for qualifying? imagine what it'll be like when they win."

you commented whilst locking your car, making sure aubrey had shut the door properly as you both headed towards the open front door. people were drunkenly dancing and talking on the front lawn with red solo party cups and beer bottles strewn all over, the music growing louder as you walked closer and finally made your way inside to be met with a sea of students.

"i think they'll need two houses when they win!"

aubrey shouted over the music as you guided her through the crowd by holding her hand, heading towards the kitchen and wearing matching grins at the sight of what there was on offer. not many people were around the alcohol as they'd already had their pick, so you were blessed with the time to choose what you liked and witness aubrey mixing all the alcohol she could find.

"you're gonna give yourself alcohol poisoning if you add any more."

"hm, good way to go."

you shoved her shoulder lightly with a chuckle whilst choosing your favourite drink that the frat house had finally decided to put on offer, turning to the shorter woman as she nudged you with her elbow and pointed in front of you, your eyes following what she was referring to. a small group of tall women stood talking with drinks in their hands, people passing them and sharing a couple words before setting off again, the women continuing their conversation.

"those are from the team- that one on the left is kk, the one to her right is paige, the one with her back faced towards us is nika i think and the one on the right is ashlynn."

"damn, you weren't lying when you said i should try out for the team based on my height. some of them are taller than me!"

"girl, i'm never wrong."

you rolled your eyes at her cocky statement before being dragged away by her, recognising the new environment as the dancefloor you'd previously walked through and beginning to let loose. it wasn't long before you'd lost aubrey to a random guy she'd found, sending her a playful wink as she danced and eventually dragged him away to talk by the drinks in the kitchen, obviously intending on leaving with him or going upstairs at some point.

after a couple moments of enjoying yourself on the dancefloor it had became too crowded for your liking, driving you to push through the sea of bodies towards the kitchen and breathe out a heavy sigh with your chest heaving for a breath. you leaned against the counter for a moment and stood upright again, feeling eyes on you as you turned to the left and saw the group of women aubrey claimed were the whole reason of this party staring at you. the one who had her back turned to you previously kept her eyes on you for a moment longer than the others, excusing herself and making her way over as you internally panicked whilst standing upright.

you normally found confidence in your height that provided you a mask to hide your stress, but with nika being the same height as you it was no use.

"hey, you okay? you looked really stressed just then, we thought you were about to pass out."

she asked with a laugh, making you smile in response whilst shaking your head.

"no, i'm good. just a bit too crowded in there."

"yeah, that's why we stay in here. i'm nika by the way."

she stuck her hand out to greet you formally, a soft smile playing on her lips to match your own as you took note of her accent.

"i'm y/n, i'm not hearing an american accent there. you international?"

"croatia, came here for basketball- obviously."

she rolled her eyes at herself as you laughed lightly together, waving off her self judgement to comfort her.

"would it be rude to ask you to say something in croatian for me?"

"not at all, what you wanting me to say?"

you leaned against the counter and thought for a moment whilst smoothing out your shirt, trying to think of anything.

"how about; this party is shit?"

nika laughed loudly and quickly covered her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes in embarassment as you laughed at the snort she'd attempted to cover up. both of you calmed down quickly as she apologised and you waved her off once more, taking a deep breath to calm herself down from the laughing fit she'd just had.

"how about this instead, želiš li otići odavde?"

"i would love to be able to speak croatian right now."

you replied with your heart hammering, the woman was absolutely stunning and speaking in her home language was turning you on to no end. the words rolled off her tongue effortlessly and her accent returned to give her another attractive factor, hazel eyes boring into yours making your chest feel like it was about to explode as she maintained eye contact with ease. you noticed the way she'd move her head and keep her eyes on yours whenever you shifted slightly, noting it down as a thing athletes must be taught by their coaches- but god was it hot.

"i asked if you wanna get outta here."

she repested with a smile, soft tone matching her inviting features whilst she placed her hand to rest on the kitchen counter next to yours, fingers brushing.

"isn't this party supposed to be about you?"

"they won't notice i'm gone. and i'm not the only player on the team y'know?"

nika took a step closer and moved her hand to be resting on top of yours, fingers tracing patterns down your wrist and along your digits in a teasing manner.

"where you thinkin' of goin' then?"

it wasn't long before nika was pushing you against the front door and connecting your lips hungrily, both of you battling for dominance as you guided her further into your dorm whilst tearing each others clothes off. aubrey crossed your mind for a moment and you made a mental note to text her in the morning asking if she got home safe, but right now your only concern was the woman tangling her fingers into your hair to pull you closer.

you'd woken up the next morning to find no trace of nika whatsoever, it was as if she hadn't even came home with you and the whole night was just a dream. she hadn't left a note explaining why she left, offering you her number, if she enjoyed her time with you- nothing.

you thanked god you didn't drink much the night before as you got dressed and freshened yourself up, looking in the mirror to spot a couple hickeys trailed down your neck and scratch marks along your biceps or shoulderblades, nika had definitely came home with you and there was no doubt about it. your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of banging on your door, immediately heading to open it as you knew it would be aubrey.

"did you get any sleep last night? where did you stay?"

the blonde groaned in relief as she resided comfortably on your couch, amusement overtaking your features once you realised she was still in the dress she wore to the party.

"i stayed at that dude's dorm- can't remember his name. you get lucky last night?"

aubrey sat up with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, eyes trailing to your neck as she shot up to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen counter before taking a seat on one of the highchairs.

"that's a hickey! you can't deny it- who was it?!"

"aubrey i don't ask about your-"

"i know but i also know for a fact that the only gay girls at that party were the basketballers! which one?"

you sighed and shut your eyes, thinking about last night for a moment before giving in once you realised your best friend wouldn't give up.

"uh, nika."

you expected a round of applause or yelling about how proud she was as usual but were instead met with silence, opening an eye to see aubrey sat there in shock with her jaw dropped slightly. she looked like she'd just seen a ghost as she stared at you in disbelief.

"what?"

"y/n..."

you stood up straight as an indicator for her to continue, watching her try to gather her thoughts before she shut her eyes tightly and opened them again. it looked like she was trying to keep a secret and you'd just blackmailed her into giving it up as she finally began to tell you what was wrong.

"nika has a boyfriend, i'm pretty sure he plays for the men's basketball team. name's nahiem or something."

"oh, well that explains why she was gone this morning."

everything made a lot more sense thanks to aubreys confession, but why would nika sleep with you if she was dating a man?

"and as much as i hate to be awkward i went on my phone today and found this."

aubrey tapped on her screen for a few moments and turned her phone towards you, revealing a text chain with someone called azzi talking about a game against duke in four days time in the sweet sixteen of the ncaa tournament, and aubrey promising azzi she'd be coming with a plus one.

"you're gonna have to watch her play in four days."

"aubrey!'

"i'm sorry! you know what i get like when i'm drunk."

you groaned in annoyance as she smiled sheepishly at you, taking her phone back whilst you stood there thinking about all the possibilities of what could happen when you see nika again.

--------

"you want me to go over there with you and say hi to them?"

"yeah! it will give you and nika a lil' ice breaker, plus they're really nice. if she makes it awkward they'll fill in for you or something."

aubrey practically dragged you out of your seat towards azzi as she waved you over, sending you a smile that you returned. some of her teammates walked over and a few stayed to keep making shots in their warmup drills, nika turning around to see where everyone was going and practically lighting up at the sight of you, jogging over to the small group you were making your way towards.

"looks like she won't be making it awkward."

aubrey commented with her elbow nudging yours, greeting azzi with a hug as you stood and watched rather awkwardly.

"this is y/n, the one i was telling you about!"

the blonde introduced you cheerfully as you waved, noticing the way nikas eyes were glued to you whilst she watched the girls introduce themselves.

"i'm sorry, how on earth did you get talking to drunk aubrey and manage to convince her to come to your basketball game? this woman hates sports."

the girls laughed at your joke as aubrey sarcastically joined in, azzi being quick to explain how she met your best friend at the party and managed to get her number before she left with the random guy she was dancing with last time you saw her. you couldn't get into conversation for too long as the game was about to start, so the girls bid goodbye and made their way onto the other side of the court. with aubrey making comments here and there about how she didn't understand a single thing about basketball, you filled her in with your limited knowledge on how the game worked, informing the smaller woman on when nika made an assist or rebound and ignoring the way she'd stare at you with a knowing look.

the game was soon over and uconn were once again headed to the elite eight, aubrey being quick to head down to the bench and hug azzi even thought she wasn't played. you wondered what on earth they'd spoken about in the past couple of days to get so close as you made your way down, congratulating the girls on their win and promising to be at all their games. you spotted nika on the other side of the court hugging a man not too much taller than her, smiling up at him as he kissed her on the forehead and turned her around to go celebrate with her team, her eyes connecting with yours before she jogged over with her arms wide open and a massive grin on her face.

"i'm so glad you're here! you're coming to our next game right?"

her hands stayed on your shoulders as she stared at you hopefully, watching you take a moment to process her question before nodding your head.

"uh, yeah! i'm sure aubrey was gonna drag me to it anyways."

"gives me an excuse to see you again, it's on monday!"

you couldn't help but not be mad at nika. her aura was so inviting and she didn't pretend to not know you, it's like the second she wrapped her arms around your waist you'd forgotten about her boyfriend completely and were at her mercy again. just like the night of the party, you found yourself willing to be anything she wanted as long as it meant you'd get a second longer with her, so as she pulled you over to speak to her teammates by the wrist you made no move to pull it away.

the same thing had happened on monday, you'd spoken to the girls before the game thanks to aubrey and witnessed her blossoming friendship with azzi form into one with paige too, meaning the girls were inviting you to their apartment for some opportunities to know them better after the game regardless of if they won or not. obviously, they beat southern carolina by seven points and were now headed to the final four, meaning they were fired up and had been blasting music on the way back to their home with you and aubrey squashed into the car where space was available.

you'd walked into their shared home and found not nearly as many of the girls as you thought would be present had even came, majority either spending time with family or wanting to go home due to how tired they were. it was obvious paige was on the bluetooth for their speakers in the living room as her and kk argued over what songs to put on, all the girls gathering around in their designated seats and leaving you to find your own. aubrey immediately gravitated towards aaliyah on the double couch in the corner, striking up conversation as you made your way towards the only seat left next to nika.

the croatian smiled brightly when she saw you coming over to sit down with her, welcoming your company and going to say something before paige interrupted.

"alright, truth or dare girls let's go!"

the women cheered in agreement to her idea and began deciding on who was first, landing on kk as paige dictated herself as the one asking the first question since it was her idea. the first couple of dares and truths were fairly tame, ranging from azzi singing a solo for you all to aaliyah telling her parents a picture of a stupid tattoo she knew they'd hate and claiming it was hers.

it was now nikas turn to be asking whoever she pleased the golden question, yourself preparing as she let her eyes linger on you before eventually asking.

"y/n, truth or dare?"

"oooh goin' after the newbie i see!"

paige commented as none of the girls had gone for you and aubrey yet, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible without forcing you into the game.

"truth."

some of them teasingly groaned in annoyance, claiming you were boring as you flipped them off and waited for nika to ask her question.

"who's your favourite player on the team?"

your eyes widened for a moment as the basketballers looked at you intently, even aubrey was trying to hold her laugh back slightly as she saw the panic flash across your face when she realised you barely knew any of them well enough to have a favourite - apart from nika, so you went with that.

"erm, i don't really know any of you more than i know nika, so i'mma have to go with her. sorry guys!"

the athletes gave each other knowing looks as nika wore a proud expression, sticking her tongue out at paige and wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

"this my twin!"

"how dare you?!"

paige mocked offense as she put a hand to her chest, gasping dramatically before laughing with you all and sending nika a heart with her hands as she returned it. you turned to nika and smiled at her, glad to see she was already looking at you with a soft grin with her eyes flickering between your lips and eyes, making you turn away before you lost your self control. it didn't take long before the girls were up dancing and blasting music, yourself and nika the only ones on the couch as she'd put in a shift during the game and you just weren't in the mood to dance, so she'd put her legs up over yours and rested her head on your shoulder whilst your arms rested across her thighs.

"did you tell the girls about us?"

you asked quietly, nika pulling her head out of your neck with confrontation written across her expression.

"i saw the looks they gave each other earlier on. why didn't you tell me you have a boyfriend?"

"i think this is a conversation we need to have somewhere else, y/n."

the point guard stood up and made her way over to aaliyah, speaking for a minute before taking a key she'd handed her and walking over to you, putting her hand out for you to take and lacing your fingers together when you did as she asked. you walked towards the apartment complex elevator and went up a few floors, nika leading the way to aaliyah's apartment and letting you in first, shutting the door behind her.

"no one else is gonna be here tonight, it's aaliyah's place."

"nika."

you turned to her with a stern voice whilst taking a seat at aaliyah's kitchen island, watching as she stood across from you and took a deep breath. you expected her to have a lengthy explanation on how what happened was a mistake or how she was broken up with him at the time- anything along those lines, but only silence came your way. you made the next move, sighing heavily and sitting up to stretch your back out.

"you literally spoke to him seconds before coming to me at the duke game, i know it didn't just slip your mind. why didn't you tell me?"

"because i wanted to break up with him! but when it came to it i met you and i just couldn't bring myself to-"

"oh so you're a coward then? how would you feel if you found out he'd cheated on you and then told you he'd been wanting to break up with you for ages beforehand but let it go on anyways!"

the croatian looked down in shame at her feet, refusing to meet your eyes as you calmed down from your tangent of rage. you'd been put into an impossible situation and were most likely going to be blamed for it when it got out, but you couldn't not feel bad for nika as she spoke up with a wavering voice.

"i think i might be gay- and i don't know what to do. when i saw you i knew that i wasn't just confused and then one thing led to another..."

"nika,"

you sighed deeply and rubbed your forehead to calm down the furrow in your brow, noticing the hopeful glint behind her eyes as you looked up to her.

"as much as i like you and wanna see where this goes, i'm not involving myself any further until you break up with him."

the croatian nodded her head in understanding as she looked down at her feet again, not moving when she heard your chair scrape against the floor in assumption that you'd be moving to leave, shocked to find your arms around her waist as you hugged her from behind instead. you rested your head on her shoulder and discreetly breathed in her scent, smiling when her hands fell on top of yours and body relaxed into your embrace.

"i'll see you later niks, yeah?"

"hopefully sooner rather than later y/n/n."

she mumbled in response and looked at you with a soft smile, eyes trailing down to your lips but knowing not to do anything that would make her predicament more difficult. you regretfully let go of her and made your way out of aaliyah's apartment, texting aubrey that you were going to get an uber back to your dorm and assuring her to get home safe or stay over with the girls, the only other thing on your mind being nika.

--------

as far as uconn wanted to go, iowa stood in their way. your university was one game away from being potential ncaa champions and it just seemed the pressure had gotten to them in the last seconds against iowa, connecticut fans devastated at the sight of their opposers walking away victoriously. you and aubrey watched in despair as your girls walked up to their opponents and shook their hands, congratulating them before some waved you down and smiled at how you shot out of your seats to comfort them.

you made your way around the group with soft hugs and praising words, not realising nika was missing until you caught paiges eyes wandering in the group huddle you'd made. your eyes followed hers and you saw her speaking to nahiem, obviously it wasn't a pleasant conversation judging by their body language and the way he wasn't hugging her out of comfort, the croatian held her hand up to his face to stop him from talking after a moment and walked away.

paige looked to find your eyes on hers and smiled comfortingly, happy when you returned it as nika joined the group and rested her head on the blondes shoulder.

"hey, we're gonna leave you guys be for some time yeah?"

"maybe we can come visit later if you want us to?"

you and aubrey compromised as the girls all nodded their heads in agreement, hugging you one by one and heading to the locker rooms. when you got to nika you let aubrey hug her first - thinking she wouldn't want to hug you after your conversation from the other day - but were shocked to feel her collapse into your arms with a tight hold. you immediately hugged her back and rested your chin on her head as she buried hers into your neck, pulling away after a moment with tears in her eyes to smile softly and watch you return it before heading off to the locker rooms with paige.

"they were so close."

aubrey mumbled as you hummed in agreement, slinging an arm over her shoulder to keep her close whilst setting off towards your own dorm. after an hour or so of sulking for the girls and being concerned about nika in specific, aubrey got a text from paige saying they wanted to see you both, happy to be greeted with your arrival half an hour later.

you made your way around the room greeting them with soft smiles, sitting next to qadence and wrapping an arm around her as she rested her head on your shoulder, smiling at the way she pushed herself deeper into you out of comfort. a soft conversation ran throughout the room with aubrey and paige taking the lead, successfully distracting the girls from the loss they'd just suffered and gaining a laugh every so often when a joke was made or playful insult was thrown about. it didn't take you long to notice that nika was the only one who wasn't there, otherwise she would've either been lying on your other shoulder or replacing qadence.

"hey, y/n,"

aaliyah spoke quietly from next to you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to gain your attention and not interrupt the others.

"nika's in my room. i think she'd really love to see you."

"oh, i don't wanna-"

"she'd really love to see you."

aaliyah repeated firmly as you went to deny her offer, not wanting to intrude and leave the others when you had a freshman falling asleep on you.

"it's okay, i'll use aaliyah as my pillow."

she spoke from your shoulder, placing her hand on yours gently with a reassuring smile and practically pushing you out of your seat, the rest of the girls smiling and waving you goodbye as they immediately knew where you were headed. you took the elevator to the floor you'd remembered nika pressing on, standing nervously as it just came to mind that you'd be alone with her for the first time since denying her advances.

your mind ran wild with awkward scenarios that could occur when nika saw you at the door, thinking she'd simply slam it in your face or give you a tight-lipped smile that wouldn't cover up her tear-stained face. then you remembered the way she collapsed into you after the game, how she didn't want to let go and said she was so happy to see you watching her play after what happened. your thoughts were clouded with nika as you walked towards the apartment you guessed was aaliyah's, knocking on the door hopefully and smiling once the point guard answered it.

a massive grin grew on her face as soon as she saw you and she pulled you into another tight hug, clutching onto your shirt. nika pulled you closer before you forcefully pushed her away, holding her hand to make up for it as you walked her backwards and shut the door behind you with your foot whilst holding eye contact. you guided her towards the couch and sat next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders as she sank into you the same way qadence was earlier on, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"how you doin' niks, hm?"

you asked softly with your hand rubbing over her arm, feeling her smile into your neck at the nickname.

"m'good, you?"

"m'okay, thanks for asking."

the croatian pulled away to smile softly up at you, a comforting environment present as you held each other gently. she licked her lips and looked down at yours, smile slowly fading as her eyes visibly darkened and your heart rate picked up with her gaze locked on yours, her arms moving to wrap around your neck as she carefully straddled you. the croatian guided your hands to rest on her waist, biting her lip to keep in the grin when your hands mindlessly wandered across her thighs - then she started leaning in to kiss you; ever so slowly. giving you a chance to pull away, and you did.

you saw hurt flash across her expression to replace the smile she wore previously, prompting you to quickly explain.

"nahiem."

you stated bluntly and quietly, nika sighing softly as one of her hands came up to trace your jawline.

"i broke up with him."

your eyes met hers to check if she was being sincere, and she was.

she had no reason to lie after she'd already done so beforehand, she knew she'd lose you if she lied again.

"when?"

you asked breathily, watching her lean in slowly again and not moving to pull away. her lips were centimetres from brushing yours now and you could feel her fingers moving to hold the side of your neck.

"after the game, did you not see us arguing?"

"yeah but i thought..."

"but you thought what?"

the croatian asked quietly, smiling widely at how nervous she was making you just by speaking.

"maybe it was just the stress of losing the game or something."

"no. he said i was breaking up with him because i was upset about the game, so i just stopped him from saying anything else."

"yeah i saw that, the sassy hand and everything."

you joked as nika laughed with you, shaking her head and leaning in to brush her lips over yours.

"shut up."

she spoke softly, connecting your lips in the sweetest kiss you'd ever experienced. your hands gently pulled her hips closer to you as she pushed her chest against yours, sighing into your mouth whilst your lips moved in sync and her hands held onto your shoulders to stabilise herself- almost as if she would lose control if she didn't have a death grip on you. you'd been waiting so long to have nika as your own again and here she was, in your lap, kissing you like you were made of glass and somehow pouring all her emotion into it at the same time; it was heavenly.

the pair of you pulled away after a couple moments to catch your breath, resting your foreheads together as you panted into each others mouths with laughs and softly placed hands pawing at clothes, trying to get a feel for the others body after going so long without.

"god i've missed you."

nika breathed out before she pulled you into a passionate kiss, your hands trailing up her back and pushing in the curve of her spine to have her closer. you felt her smile into the kiss as she tilted her head to deepen it further, making you smile in response to her desperation for something as simple as a kiss before pulling away, pecking her lips a couple more times to apologise for the pout she wore.

"i take it you're not questioning your sexuality anymore then?"

nika threw her head back with a hearty laugh as you watched with a grin, chuckling with her as she looked back down at you and shook her head fondly, confirming there would be no more lies and she was finally yours.

[crazy4nika]

just enough

warnings: nightmares and paige being annoying but thats lowkey it this ones kinda cute

request: hi!!! i loved you nika headcannons. would you be open to writing about her? i rlly feel like you’re hc abt her match up so well

nika mühl x reader

the warmth of my blankets encompassed me in, the weight of the soft fabric holding me down. i don’t really know how i was still awake, considering it was almost 1 a.m.

its not like i was staying awake, i was actually trying to sleep.

my room was small, but comfy. the only light was a streetlight gleaming through the window. it had one bed, a nightstand and, a dresser. a uconn ncaa banner was pitched above the bed. my dorm-room was surprisingly quiet, the only sound being a small floor fans whirring.

the silence was interrupted was a quiet jingle from the door handle. the metal clicked and the door creaked open, and a tall brunette girl poked her head in. “hey niks. couldn’t sleep again?”

“how’d you know?” she spoke sarcastically, shrugging while she walked in. the door closed quietly behind her. sometimes when nika can’t sleep, she finds her way into my room. after what was probably the 20th time this happened, i gave her an extra key so i didn’t have to get up to let her in.

i scooted closer to the wall to make space as she stumbled her way over. nika lifted the covers up and slipped under them, instantly moving closer to me. she gave me a quick smile before rolling over, facing away. “thanks. for you know. this?”

“yeah… i don’t mind,” i traced little shapes on her back while we talked. i drew a dog and a house and two girl standing outside of it before she moved. nika sunk further into the bed, “i was kind of worried you would.”

“why would it bother me? its really nice when you’re here.” she giggled before turning back towards me, making eye contact in the dark. “do you really think i would give you a key if it bothered me?”

she had really nice eyes, and they were looking right in mine. and the way she talked was so perfect, “i guess i never thought about it that way.” she blinked and it broke me out if my trance, but i was pulled back in the second i could see them again. the chocolate brown swirled around, darker on the inside and lighter on the outside. it had such a sweet look to it and the colour highlighted her face.

nika sighed and then we just layed there in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. nothing needed to be said. the presence of each other being there was just enough.

but i had to break it. i don’t really know why. “are you sure your doing okay?”

she seemed taken aback, her eyes loosing the happiness they had seconds prior to my words. “i- why wouldn’t i be?” she was laying so close to me that i could feel her breath shaking while she spoke, a nervousness coating her expressions.

“niks, i’m just worried about your sleep and stuff. you come in here saying that you cant sleep more often then not,” she pulled the covers slightly closer, twisting the edge lightly with her fingers. “and theres nothing wrong with you coming in here, but is something keeping you up at night?”

“its not like its important or anything.”

“yes it is.”

even though she was laying down she still crossed her arms and gave me a you should be quiet look. “why?”

“because your important. and i care.” a strand of hair fell in front of her face and she blew at it to try and get rid of it, but it kept ended up right back in her face. frustration grew over her face. after she started mumbling swears at it, i tucked it behind her ear.

“why do you care?” she spat, calmness buried underneath her mean tone.

“i don’t know, why are you interrogating me now?”

“you know i didn’t come here for a heart to heart. i came here to sleep.”

“i guess we don’t always get what we want.”

she took in a deep breath, “i’ve been have these nightmares, where i cant do anything right. and coach gets mad at me, then the rest of the team follows,”

“and nobody will talk to me, because i keep messing the plays up. not even you will talk to me.”

“and it gets to the point where nobody will look at me, because they’re ashamed for me. or at me, i’m not really sure. and in the end, i just stop loving basketball.” her voice cracks with those last words and it breaks my heart. and as the tears she was holding back slowly make their way over her waterline and onto her face, i pull her into a hug.

her voice was all squeaky and wobbly, “i just don’t want to be a failure.” nikas face was pressed against my chest, a wet spot appearing on my t-shirt.

“no. look at me,”

nika peered up at me, eyes still glossy with tears. “you are not a failure. you never will be, okay? we all love you so much. i love you so much.”

“yeah.” she sniffled out. my hand held her head close the myself, playing with her hair. my other hand scratched her back, trailing under her shirt slightly.

she wiped her tears with her sleeve before cuddling back in, “your a good friend.” she mumbled into the crook of my neck, her lips brushing lightly over my skin as she spoke.

she was still there when i woke up, snoring lightly. her leg was thrown over me and her arms were still wrapped around my waist. nika was practically a koala, but i didn’t mind.

i was just glad she was there.

most if the time when she came in the night, we wouldn’t talk at all and she would be gone by the time i was awake. usually i was asleep when she got there too. sometimes i didn’t even know she was in my room until she mentions it sometime during the day.

i trusted her, entirely.

it didn’t matter to me if she came in and out throughout the night and the morning.

after awhile, we just stopped talking about it. if she was there, then cool. we didn’t need to have a conversation about why.

im not sure what was different about last night and this morning. but i liked it. i liked talking to her, and i liked having her with me.

she was a cute sleeper too. her messy hair still looked perfect. i could just lay there forever, it was peaceful. but we weren’t going to, because nika woke up. she yawned and stretched her arms up, nudging me in the face with one. “g’morning.”

she peeled herself off of me, smiling up. “good morning. whats the time?”

i shrugged, “i dunno.”

nika got out of the bed, grabbing my hands and pulling me up with her. she didn’t let go when she started to talk, “hey, I’m sorry about last night.”

i smiled at her, it was more of a sad smile though. my thumb traced over her hand, “don’t be. everybody needs somebody.”

she squeezed both of my hands before pulling me into a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head. “no, i- you said you loved me, and i didn’t say it back. so i’m sorry about that.”

“its fine.”

she spoke quietly, almost like a whisper, “i do love you too, by the way.” she smiled.

i held her face in my hands, “good.” i pressed a light kiss to her chin. “you better love me.”

god, her smile was perfect too. she giggled and smiled again. “ill see you at practice?”

“three hours mühl. trust me, ill be there.” she pulled me into a hug, patting my back.

she pulled away, heading towards the door. “bye bye!”

i walked into practice with my bag slung over my shoulder, barely awake.

i had fallen asleep again after nika had left, only waking up because paige barged into my room, woke me up by scaring me, then still made fun of my scream.

then she forced me to make her waffles, then complained that i had no butter. like…?

i held my head in my hands, rubbing my temples. “p be quiet, for one second please?”

“but-”

“paige. shh.” i took a sip of water and began walking towards the court, not realizing she was multiple steps behind me. at that point, it was too late.

she ran at me and jumped onto my back which sent up both onto the floor, laughing hysterically. i was curled into a ball holding my stomach because it was so funny it hurt. “paige, why?” i laughed out, hitting her over the head for payback.

“oh you did not”

she shot onto her feet and grabbed me, hoisting me onto my feet. i wiggled out of her grip and started to run away, laughing at her as she chased after.

i ran into a brunette girl, grabbing her shoulders in putting her between me and paige. “help! nika, help me please.”

“what did you do?”

i wheezed as i spoke because i was out if breath. “i-”

the blonde girl cut me off, “she hit me.”

“you practically tackled me!”

paige smirked before running around nika towards me, hitting me over the head. she laughed as she ran away, “paige! i’m done.” i spoke as i lied on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

nika leaned above me, shaking her head while smiling, “get up,” she spoke, dragging out her words.

i groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, ignoring her.

her hands wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me onto my feet. “put me down. its colder on the floor.”

“no.”

once my feet were on the ground, i turned around to face her. i didn’t realize how close she was, because our faces were an inch apart. “not so bad up here, huh?”

“its horrible. i’m getting water.”

she snickered as i walked away, finding paige again. i walked over to the benches, grabbing my water from my bag.

“hm. look what the cat dragged in”

i turned to face the girl, “paige. what?” i sighed, “what are you talking about?”

“nevermind. i have a question.” the blonde sat down next to me, leaning to whisper into my ear, “what up with you and niks?”

“nothing! what?”

“you know what i mean,” she wiggled her eyebrows at me, “i mean she totally likes you.”

“first of all, shes just my friend and my teammate. second of all, this is very random.”

she stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “it would be cute.”

“i guess.”

paige made an explosion sound and motion with her hands. “so you admit to it?”

“fine, yes. shes cute.” the blonde pulled me into a hug and swayed back and forth. “ill make it happen.”

im shutting this idea down. “no, p. your doing nothing.”

“but-” i held a single finger to her lips, silencing her, “shhh.”

“please just let me! trust me it will go perfect.”

i closed my water bottle, placing it down next to me. i went to answer her but coach walked in, the rest of the ream following behind. “alright. lets get started! running laps! go!”

i was so sore. my legs felt like jello and everything hurt. i was laying on my bed on my stomach, scrolling on my phone. it was quiet, until nika came to my dorm again. she normally never came twice in a row, but i didn’t mind. “hey. whats up?”

“i need to talk to you.”

she was fiddling with her fingers and sweatshirts sleeves, a nervous expression pasted over her face. “i was talking to paige after practice today, and i-, uhm.”

“oh god.” i pulled my knees to my chest while sitting up in bed. breaking my eye contact with nika.

she closed the door and sat down in the beanbag chair in the corner of my room. “is it true?”

“yes,” i think i might kill paige. “niks, i don’t want things to to be weird.”

she stood up from the beanbag chair on the floor and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to me. “it wont be.”

“why, i thi-” i never got to finish my sentence.

nika grabbed the side of my face and placed her lips on mine, smiling into it. my hands made their way to her neck before she pulled away. “thats why.”

[kika-writes]

wingman - l.n

Warnings: funny funny haha I’m deunk

Pairing: Lando Norris x piastri!fem!reader

Summary: Oscar helps Y/N hook up with someone after she’s been single for ages

A/N - I see a lot of fics about like Oscar/Lando being, like, ‘I don’t want you to date him’ but this is kinda around my brother, he’d get protective but he’d, like, support me ig? Just an idea lmao

“Hi Oscar,” you said, jumping from one foot to the other as he raised an eyebrow. “Who’d you kill?” he said sarcastically as you scoffed. “No one! You’re always so mean,” you crossed your arms. “Sorry, force of habit, what’s up?” he asked, still scrolling through his phone. “Need to tell you something,” you muttered. “Ah, so you did kill someone?” he said, stifling a laugh. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself!” your brother snorted as he saw your face. “I, uh, I may like someone?” you said, cheeks flushed red as Oscar hummed. 

“Oh yeah? Do I know him?” he asked, putting his phone down. “You could say that, yeah,” you shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the massage board as he looked up from his be. “How long?” he asked, the usual questions he asked when you liked someone new. “Like, I dunno, a few weeks,” you replied, you didn’t measure how long your crush spanned. “Who is it?” he opened his phone, ready to check if he had them in his contacts. “I…uh, Lando,” you said quietly, voice high with unease as he dropped his phone. “Lando?!” he hissed, knowing that the other driver was in the room besides his. 

You nodded, confirming his hearing wasn’t malformed as his eyes widened. “Like, that Lando?” he gestured vaguely at the wall, as you gave the same confirmation. “Damn,” he acknowledged slowly, “this is gonna take a special type of brother wing-manning,”. You could always rely on your brother to help you out with anything, even if it was getting with his teammate. You and Lando had a pretty strong relationship - you had each other’s numbers, you spoke every time you saw each other, you hung out with each other in your free time, you had hour long calls almost every night. Now you just needed to build on it. 

“Hi Lando,” Oscar said pointedly, walking towards the Brit as he looked up grinning at Oscar. “Me and some of the drivers are planning on getting lunch at this little place near the pier,” your brother said coolly, “you interested?”. Lando nodded, more than happy to go, but little did he know, the driver’s had a plan for the pair of you. George had asked you the same question and you’d all arranged to go to a restaurant on ghetto 16th floor of skyscraper hotel. Oscar’d plan was simple. Time each of your entrances to the elevator perfectly and then do a little snippy snippy on the wire. Easy. 

“Hey Y/N,” a voice said behind you as you waited for the elevator, nervously adjusting your short, black dress. “Lando, hi,” you stepped into the open empty box as Lando followed. “You going for the dinner?” you asked, trying to prompt conversation. “Yes, I’m -fuck!” Lando gasped, the lights of the elevator immediately flickering as the box shook violently.

“Lando!” you shrieked, almost like a normal reaction, your body fall into his as the box tilted to one side suddenly. “Hey, you alright?” he asked, struggling to find his phone. “Y-yeah, it’s dark,” you gulped, your hands scrunching into his shirt as held your body close to his. “You good?” he said, eyes roving your face for any signs of fright. “Yeah, just shocked,” you said, “Lando, I don’t like the dark,”.

“My phones dead,” he groaned, you’d forgotten yours. “Lando,” you shook his hand lightly as he pulled you closer. “Cold?” he asked, feeling your shivering body against him. “Yeah,” you hummed, hands on his as you struggled for balance. You heard him shuffle, sliding down so he was sitting, before taking your body into his. “Sit,” he said, as you rested your head onto his shoulder.

A/N - idk how to end it.

[hd-junglebook]

All I've Ever Known

Jack Hughes x F!Reader

Masterlist Link

a:n ive always wanted to write a social media manager fic so here it is, hope you enjoy.

Warnings: meanies, depression, men being mean,

Summary: the sarcastic and ambitious 22-year-old knows she needs a huge turnaround - or risk being cast aside like her previous miserable tenure with the New York Rangers.

Word Count - 4634

Part 1

The shrill beep of her alarm sliced through the early morning silence like nails on a chalkboard. Y/N groaned, slamming the palm of her hand onto the nightstand to shut off the incessant noise. Another day, another soul-crushing slog as social media manager for the New York Rangers.

She peeled herself out of bed, joints creaking with exhaustion already. After hurriedly throwing on wrinkled clothes from the hamper, Y/N shuffled into the kitchen and went through the motions of brewing a sad, tepid pot of coffee. The familiar bitter aroma did little to energize her this morning.

On her deadened commute into Manhattan, Y/N stared vacantly out the smudged train window at the graffiti-streaked concrete pillars blurring by.

How had she ended up here - 22 years old and already feeling like her spirit had been sapped dry? She'd had such soaring dreams when she was a fresh-faced college grad.

But those ambitions had quickly crashed and burned against the harsh realities of the work world. Especially at a prestigious hockey franchise like the Rangers, where the crusty old men running the show didn't have a singular clue about social media strategy. Or appreciating the vision and effort of their overworked millennial staff, for that matter.

The familiar dread settled into the pit of Y/N's stomach as she crossed the frosty threshold of Madison Square Garden later that morning.

She spent her days utterly toiling in obscurity, unappreciated by the oblivious hockey meatheads she yearned to promote and engage online. Her pitches for fresh, out-of-the-box digital activations were always stuffed back into the recesses of her brain without a second glance.

By the late afternoon, Y/N's office had become a prison of stale coffee fumes and resigned despair as emails piled up in her inbox with patently absurd content requests from upper management.

"Just do another photo shoot of the players' sticks, skates and gloves on the bench," one insipid message read. "Maybe the fans want to see the equipment up close, who knows?"

Who knows? She knew, damn it. Those kinds of mindless, low-effort posts would get swallowed whole by the endless social media vacuum with zero engagement, zapping any last morsels of strategy and creativity out of the process. It was enough to make her want to fling her laptop across the room some days.

As the endless summer afternoon bled into evening, Y/N dragged herself down to the Rangers' practice rink to capture video of the players skating drills and running through stretch routines, per the usual protocol.

Not a single one of the hulking millionaires acknowledged her presence as she wandered along the sideboards, snapping footage on her DSLR.

Henrik Lundqvist skated past, head down and focused on the ice with a Terminator-like intensity. The newly acquired Barclay Goodrow sped by without so much as a sidelong glance.

Not even a single flicker of awareness that she existed, let alone that she was the one tasked with promoting their very likenesses and careers online.

Her camera strained under the weight of professional ennui snapping each frame. Just another nameless, faceless, unappreciated cog in a machine designed to prioritize bloated egos, paychecks, and Stanley Cups over creativity or foresight.

The deafening slap of pucks and sticks against the ice drilled deeper into Y/N's skull with each passing minute. She couldn't wait to escape this dismal concrete bunker, slither back to the solace of her Bushwick walk-up, and let the existential dread wash over her in peace.

…

Y/N smoothed her hands over her pencil skirt, trying to wick away the nervous sweat as she approached the imposing oak doors of the executive offices. A tight knot twisted in her stomach, but she plastered on what she hoped was an agreeable smile regardless. Maybe this surprise meeting would finally bring some good news her way for once.

She knocked and entered at the muffled "Come in" from the other side. The cavernous space was dominated by an enormous mahogany table, the franchise's top brass arrayed around it like armored knights guarding a castle keep.

Rangers team president John Davidson sat at the head, his face drawn into its trademark humorless scowl. General manager Chris Drury drummed his fingers impatiently, while half a dozen other stone-faced staffers and advisors filled out the ranks.

Y/N's forced smile faltered slightly at the chilly reception, but she strode forward with as much poise as she could muster. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help today?"

Davidson cleared his throat, the sound reverberating like a judge's gavel in the tense silence. "Miss y/n, we've asked you here to discuss your...performance, and overall role with the organization thus far."

The knot in her gut twisted tighter as Davidson continued, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Frankly, we've been rather disappointed with the lack of meaningful impact your social media initiatives have generated over the past year.

The engagement numbers have been stagnant, our players' online profiles remain relatively dormant, and we're just not seeing the kind of strategic vision and implementation we were promised."

Y/N froze, paralyzed as each steely word bludgeoned her like a slap across the face. Her stomach bottomed out as she registered the gravity of what he was saying.

"Now, we're certainly open to any new, innovative proposals you may have to reinvigorate our digital presence," Davidson went on. "But if the current trajectory continues for much longer, we'll be forced to reevaluate whether this role is truly worth allocating resources toward."

The temperature seemed to plunge twenty degrees as Y/N realized with sickening certainty what he meant - if her performance didn't dramatically improve soon, she would be fired from her dream job before it had even really begun.

All the blood drained from her face as she stared down at her feet, struggling not to sway on the spot from the waves of dizzying panic crashing over her.

After what felt like an eternity, she managed to compose herself enough to mumble a tremulous "Understood. Thank you for the candid feedback, I'll be sure to bring a revamped strategy to the next meeting." She spun on her heel and hurried out of the room, willing her legs not to buckle beneath her.

Once out in the marble-tiled hallway, Y/N's legs turned to jelly and she crumpled against the wall, her back sliding down until she was seated on the plush carpet, knees pulled to her chest. Tears of frustration and shame burned at the corners of her eyes, but she angrily blinked them back. She would not cry, not here, not over this.

Somehow, she found her feet again and began wandering in a daze back toward the social media department's offices, her mind whirling. What was she going to do? How could she possibly overhaul her strategy and prove herself worthy of keeping this coveted position?

So lost in her panicked reverie, Y/N didn't notice the tall figure barreling down the hallway until they collided with a sickening thud. She went crashing to the ground, papers and personal effects exploding out of her bag in a cascading flurry.

"Whoa there, you okay?"

She looked up with a wince to see one of the Rangers' young star defensemen, Jake Bellman, towering over her with a lopsided grin. Of course, her day wouldn't be complete without some freshly-heaped humiliation. As if on instinct, Bellman crouched down, utterly ignoring her dazed look as he began gathering her scattered belongings.

"Sorry about that, gorgeous, I really should watch where I'm going," he purred in that rich, gravelly tone of his as he collected the last of her papers. His piercing green eyes roamed brazenly up and down her body as she blushed furiously, resisting the urge to shrink back against the wall. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you before, though. What's your name, beautiful?"

Y/N stared at him in disbelief as she slowly got to her feet, brushing off her ruffled skirt. "You...you know I work here, right?" She gestured vaguely at the Rangers logo on her shirt, then fished out her employee ID to dangle in front of his face. "You've seen me around the arena a million times, Bellman. Ringing any bells?"

The cocksure grin faltered slightly as he squinted at her badge, recognition finally flickering across the chiseled planes of his face. "Oh damn, yeah...the social media girl, right? Sorry 'bout that."

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though the boyish smirk seemed permanently etched onto his lips. "I'm shit with names, to be honest. You're just...a lot prettier close up than I realized, that's all."

Y/N rolled her eyes skyward, biting back the urge to let out an exasperated groan. Of course the arrogant jocks on this team would be oblivious to anything - or anyone - that didn't directly involve scoring goals or boosting their jock status. She suddenly felt bone-achingly, soul-crushingly tired.

"Save the flattery, please. I've got more important things to worry about than whether you find me attractive or not." She snatched her belongings back from his grip with as much dignity as she could muster, already turning her back to continue on her way.

But Bellman was undeterred, because of course he was. "Hey, hold up - at least let me make it up to you?" He crowded her personal space again, practically leaning over her smaller frame with an audacious glint in his eyes. "I get off the ice around seven...we could grab drinks, get to know each other better? Maybe I'll even start putting in a good word with the boys about your marketing skills."

Y/N fixed him with a withering stare. Unbelievable - did this Neanderthal actually think she would be tempted by trifling compliments and false promises? That she would eagerly leap at the chance to be his next notch on the bedpost in exchange for putting in the barest minimum effort to promote her at work? Her blood boiled with impotent rage and insult, swirling amid the cyclone of anxiety and devastation from her earlier brush with termination.

With a noise of disgust, she pushed past Bellman and stormed off down the corridor, head held high. She would figure out a way to salvage her career through hard work and determination, without needing to demean herself by stroking any arrogant dudebro's ego.

Because if she couldn't achieve success on her own merits, what was even the point?

…

Her boots scuffed against the winding gravel path as she made her way through the lush greenery of the Park. Her shoulders were hunched forward, jaw clenched tightly in a white-knuckled grip of frustration after another utterly miserable day at the office.

"Just post another boring picture of the players standing on the ice during warmups," she muttered under her breath, impersonating the disinterested tone of her bosses. "Like that generic, lifeless content is really going to move the needle at all with our fan engagement."

She reached into her oversized tote bag, searching for her phone to distract herself by mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Her fingers finally found the smooth rectangular device, but as she pulled it out, the bottom corner of the heavy bag caught the edge of a park bench with a jolt.

The phone went flying from her grasp, tumbling end over end until it landed with a sickening crunch on the hard pavement several feet away.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Y/n let out a strangled cry of disbelief as she hurried over and scooped up the device, her heart sinking at the shattered spider-web of cracks now distorting the screen into a kaleidoscope of fragmented colors. Perfectly on-brand for how her day was going so far.

With a weary sigh, she shoved the useless phone back into the depths of her bag. Needing something, anything, to calm her rapidly fraying nerves and provide a momentary distraction from this slow motion trainwreck, y/n reached for the BerryButtkicker smoothie she had picked up from a street cart earlier.

But as her fingers gripped the condensation-drenched paper cup, it slipped through her grasp like a lubricated hockey puck. The bright pink, yogurt-based beverage went splashing down her front, drenching her crisp white button-down blouse with its sticky sweet residue.

"Oh come on, you can NOT be serious right now!" Y/n sputtered in disbelief, frantically trying to blot the stain with a wad of flimsy napkins from her bag. But it was already too late - the pale purple blotch had set in with a vengeance, leaving her shirt hopelessly ruined.

She clamped her eyes shut, taking a series of deep, steadying breaths to compose herself. A delicate shiver ran down her spine as a cool spring breeze kicked up, rippling through the trees and causing a cascade of pale pink petals to float down around her.

All she wanted now was to get back to her cozy apartment, peel off these ruined clothes, draw herself a piping hot bath, and leave this monumentally terrible day behind her.

Y/n gathered her things and set off once more at a quickened pace, mentally plotting out all the carefully worded reasons she would use to finally break up with her neglectful, emotionally-vacant boyfriend.

She was so preoccupied with her mantra of pent-up grievances that she didn't notice the zipper of her bag had come undone until her shiny new DSLR camera went bouncing out onto the pavement.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she watched in horror, powerless to do anything as the expensive piece of equipment hit the ground with a sickening clang, the glass lens immediately spidering with a crooked crack straight through the middle.

A strangled sound of dismay caught in y/n's throat as she dropped to her knees, cradling the damaged camera with trembling hands. Angry tears of frustration stung at the corners of her eyes as she carefully laid it back in her bag, handling it like delicate porcelain.

She couldn't afford to replace that right now, not after how much it had set her back...could this nightmarish day somehow get any worse?

The shrill ringtone of her phone suddenly cut through the silence, echoing off the trees around her. She rifled through the bag once more, pulling out the device with its cracked screen and prepared to swipe away the call without looking - only to pause when she saw the caller ID. It was her ex calling...again.

Without a second thought, she swiped to accept the call, ready to tell him off and get the closure she needed once and for all. But instead of her voice coming through the speaker, it was his unmistakable raspy tone.

"Hey babe, how's it going?"

The saccharine-sweet greeting was like a slap across the face. A guttural scream of rage ripped from y/n's throat as she hurled the phone away from her with everything she had. She watched with grim satisfaction as it sailed through the air, shattering into a million glittering pieces against the rough bark of a nearby tree trunk.

All around her, a cluster of joggers and pedestrians froze in their tracks, giving her alarmed looks. But she couldn't find it in her to care as the last dregs of composure finally snapped. Y/n snatched up her bag and stormed off down the path, batting away her angry tears as she muttered a mantra under her shuddering breaths.

"I...hate...the stupid...Rangers. Stupid...team...stupid job..."

That thankless, idiotic social media team could all go straight to hell for all she cared at this point.

…

Two days later…

Y/n wandered into the buzzing Apple store at the mall, still feeling frazzled and out-of-sorts after the series of unfortunate events that had unfolded in the past week.

She definitely needed to replace her shattered phone, but she kept getting sidetracked, craning her neck to gaze distractedly into every storefront they passed.

As she approached the front counter to speak to one of the blue-shirted employees, a glimpse of movement through the glass facade caught her eye. Y/n did a double-take as none other than Jack Hughes, the young star center for the Devils hockey team, came strolling by outside.

And he wasn't alone - a gorgeous blonde bombshell in tight jeans and sky-high stilettos clung to his arm like plastic-wrap, gazing up at him adoringly.

Y/n's jaw went slack as she blatantly ogled the pair, a pang of surprised attraction flaring up inside her. She had always thought Hughes was cute in that boyish, approachable way, but up close he was practically smoldering. No wonder he had every girl in the tri-state area fawning over him.

The salesguy cleared his throat loudly, giving Y/n a pointed look. She startled, embarrassed at being so obvious, and spun back around to face him.

"Uh, hi! Yes, I need a new phone please. My old one is, uh, extremely broken," she said quickly, hoping her blush wasn't too noticeable.

"Not a problem at all. We've got some great options for you to look at..." the salesguy began, efficiently getting her set up to browse the latest iPhone models.

…

A little while later, Y/n emerged from the store, the strap of her sleek new smartphone cutting into the palm of her hand where she gripped the heavy bag a little too tightly.

At least that errand was dealt with, even if it put another dent in her rapidly dwindling savings after the camera debacle. She quickened her pace towards the exit, keeping her head on a swivel to avoid anyone else who might shake her focus.

Once she was back in the quiet sanctuary of her apartment, Y/n fired up her laptop and began searching for electronic repair shops that could hopefully salvage her busted camera.

She spent over an hour meticulously compiling a list of options and jotting down estimates, her tongue poking out between her lips in concentration.

Just as she was about to close the browser, a new email popped up in her inbox from an unlisted sender. Curious, she clicked it open - and felt her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull at the contents.

"Dear Y/N, We were recently made aware that your contract with the New York Rangers organization will be ending soon. The New Jersey Devils are impressed by your portfolio..."

The words began to blur together as she frantically skimmed the rest of the email, her heart pounding louder with every sentence. This was the Devils...they were offering her an interview for their head of social media position!

A disbelieving shriek of giddy excitement exploded from Y/n's lungs as she leapt off the couch, practically trampolining on the cushions in a frenzy.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" she chanted at the top of her lungs as she danced around the living room, punctuating each repetition with a wild fist pump.

This was her chance to get out from under those miserable Rangers Neanderthals once and for all! To escape to a fresh start with an organization that might actually appreciate her vision and skills.

Still screeching incoherently, Y/n launched herself over the back of the couch and scrambled to respond to the email, typing faster than she ever had before in her life.

…

The trendy restaurant buzzed with the energetic chatter of the Saturday evening crowd, but Y/n barely registered the din around them as she fixed her best friend Lexi with an exasperated glare.

"Lexi! Keep your voice down," she hissed, cheeks flushing as she shrank down in the plush booth they occupied.

Lexi merely arched an immaculately groomed eyebrow, her glossed lips curving into a sly smile as she prodded further. "Oh come on, you can't tell me you haven't thought about it. Which one of those hockey hunks are you gonna make a move on first now that you've got an in?"

Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but Lexi stubbornly barreled on. "Is it gonna be Jack Hughes? That boy has a face that could melt ovaries. Or maybe Nico Hischier is more your style - strong, silent, and packing the real...heat, if you know what I mean." She accompanied the lewd insinuation with an exaggerated wink.

"Jesus, Lexi! You're such a heathen," Y/n sputtered, swatting her friend's arm as her blush deepened. "I'm not working there just to ogle boys, you perv. I actually really enjoy this job and the Devils are one of my favorite teams."

Lexi nodded slowly, making a show of scrunching her face up in an expression of utter disbelief. "Yeeeeah, sure thing, honey. Keep telling yourself that."

Y/n opened her mouth, ready to let loose a blistering retort, when the waitress materialized at their tableside. "Sorry about the wait, ladies. Here are your crab cakes to start!" She slid the sizzling hot plates in front of them with a friendly smile before turning on her heel.

Shooting Lexi one more narrowed look, Y/n grabbed her fork and dug in hungrily. She'd been so wrapped up in the whirlwind of her job over the past couple of weeks that she hadn't had a chance to properly celebrate with her best friend.

Lexi took a dainty bite of the crab cake, her eyes still dancing with mirth. "Mmm, this is amazing."

"Earth to Y/N? Hello, girl, you're, like, a million miles away right now."

Y/N blinked, refocusing on her best friend's concerned expression. "Sorry, Lex. It's just been...an incredibly shit week at work, to put it lightly."

Lexi's sculpted brows hiked up in surprise. "Come on, this was and I quote, 'the most exciting thing that's ever happened to you'?" She made air quotes with perfectly manicured pink nails.

Letting out a shaky exhale, Y/N recounted the horror show of a meeting where management had essentially put her on notice - shape up and revive the team's digital presence, or risk being fired before her job even really started.

"Oh em gee, that's seriously messed up," Lexi gasped, delicate hand flying to cover her mouth. "Those crusty old jerks can't be that dense about social media strategy in this day and age, can they?"

Y/N snorted derisively, swirling the dregs of her cocktail. "Clearly they are, if they think posting another photo of a player's glove is going to boost engagement. It's like they're actively trying to be as bland and uninteresting as humanly possible online." She took a morose sip. "God, this is just like my nightmare with the Rangers all over again."

Lexi reached across the table to pat Y/N's hand consolingly. "Don't you dare go back to being that sad, mopey lump I had to deal with for months, missy. You're in the big leagues now!"

A tiny smile finally quirked at the corner of Y/N's lips. "I don't know, Lex...what if I really can't hack it with the Devils after all? What if I'm just not cut out for this?"

Lexi fixed her with a stern look, popping a truffle fry into her mouth as she chewed thoughtfully. "Okay, no, I'm shutting that shit down right now before you even start with the self-doubting pity party."

She pointed an accusatory bite at Y/N's face. "Did you just conveniently forget about the rude hottie hockey player you already had to deal with?"

Y/N's brows furrowed in confusion. "What? Bellman? What does that arrogant asshole have to do with anything?"

"Um, hello? He basically threw himself at you after nearly bowling you over in the hallway!" Lexi cried in a tone that implied the obvious.

Flushing slightly at the memory, Y/N waved a dismissive hand. "It was nothing, Lex. Just an egotistical jock being a pig, as per usual for that type."

But her friend was already leaning across the table with the spark of mischief twinkling in her eyes, the way she did whenever whipping up a deliciously tempting scheme.

"Think about it, babe - all you need is to get the inside scoop from a couple of players, find out what really lights their fire on social media. Work that Y/N charm to learn what they want to see from their own team's accounts."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but Lexi's persuasive momentum was already rolling full force. "You get the players on board, maybe even a little...incentive nudge here and there, if you know what I mean..." She waggled her perfected eyebrows shamelessly.

"Next thing you know, the Devils' engagement will be soaring and you'll be the fan-favorite queen of digital content! It's a brilliant plan!"

As ridiculous as the concept seemed on its surface, Y/N had to admit her cunning best friend made a fair point, as per usual. There was no better way to ace this critical assignment than by going straight to the source of what really resonated with hockey's biggest stars.

Their waitress arrived just then with a fresh round of cocktails, temporarily sparing Y/N from having to formulate a witty retort. Lexi immediately reached for her glass and raised it with a wicked grin. "I'll toast to that - may the thirstiest players be forever shooting their shots. And I don't just mean on the ice, if you catch my drift..."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but still clinked Lexi's glass with a grudging smile.

…

A few weeks later, Y/N found herself pacing the plush carpeting of a sleek conference room, her heart jackhammering against her ribcage. This was it - her make-or-break moment to prove herself worthy of keeping her coveted role as the Devils' social media manager.

The team's front office staff began filing in one by one. First the surly PR director, Stan Holcomb, followed by the team's social media coordinators and marketing deputies. Finally, General Manager Tom Fitzgerald entered, looking impeccable in a tailored navy suit as he took a seat at the head of the long glass table.

"Ah, Miss Ellison, thank you for joining us today," he greeted her with a curt nod before getting right down to business. "As we discussed previously, we've been rather underwhelmed by the team's online presence and fan engagement metrics this season. That's why we've called this briefing - to hear your updated strategy for reinvigorating our digital channels and driving more meaningful interactions with our fanbase."

Y/N's throat went dry as cotton as all eyes turned toward her. She gave a shaky nod, smoothing her clammy palms over the document portfolio cradled in front of her like a security blanket.

"Of course, Mr. Fitzgerald. I've been hard at work over the past few weeks, researching the latest trends and social media best practices, while also soliciting...personalized input from our team's top players." She cleared her throat, praying her voice wouldn't betray her nerves too terribly. "If I may..."

Fitzgerald quirked one brow but gestured for her to proceed. Y/N glanced around the room once more before diving in headfirst.

"From my extensive conversations with key players like Jack Hughes, Nico Hischier, and Vitek Vanecek, it's become abundantly clear that the old model of recycling dry, impersonal team graphics, stats, and promotional content is no longer cutting it in today's social media landscape. Users are seeking out authenticity and giving their attention to more intimate glimpses into their favorite players' real personalities and lives off the ice."

Y/N clicked over to her PowerPoint deck, revealing mock-up posts of humorous chirp videos between teammates giving fans an inside look into the Devils' locker room camaraderie. Short and snappy Q&A interviews highlighted the players' interests and obsessions away from the rink. Even a "Hockey Husband" TikTok skit sketch featuring Hischier and his longtime partner Lauren played out across the screenshare.

"Studies have shown that millennial and Gen-Z fans are exponentially more likely to engage with this sort of laid-back, relatable player content on social feeds," she asserted, swiping through data charts and focus group findings backing up her claims. "It builds a much stronger sense of community and lasting brand loyalty compared to traditional promotional tactics."

Pausing to take a fortifying breath, Y/N turned back to face the room directly. "Obviously, this sort of genuine personality integration will require full buy-in and participation from our players and coaching staff. I already have a few reliable personalities eager to embrace this vision...but it would need to become an organizationally-mandated philosophy woven into our overall team identity for maximum impact."

She let that hang in the air for a heavy pause, sweat prickling at the back of her neck as the executives around the table whispered amongst themselves. Stan the PR director scribbled furiously in his notepad, mouth twisted skeptically. Y/N's heart thundered so loudly in her ears it nearly drowned out the furnace blast of blood rushing through her veins in waves of nausea.

After what felt like an eternity, Fitzgerald cleared his throat once more, fingers steepled as he appraised Y/N with an inscrutable expression. All humor and lightness had drained from his tone when he finally spoke again.

"An intriguing proposal, Miss Ellison, I'll give you that. Though I can't help but question the potential...distractions such an emphasis on off-ice antics may invite. This is a team of elite professional athletes, not a troupe of entertainers or social media celebrities." His steely gaze bored into her as his frown deepened. "Are you quite certain this progressive approach wouldn't ultimately undermine the team's credibility or on-ice performance?"

Y/N opened her mouth, floundering for an answer as her mind spun in a panic...

...

Tag List <3

@rebelatbay

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[haikyu-mp4]

The sun and his flower

word count; 2133 – f!reader

Hinata never really got into driving. He took his driver's licence, but never got around to buying a car after returning to Japan. So when the snow fell overnight and he overslept for practice with the Black Jackals, he had no other choice but to leave his bike and hop on a bus.

And he would forever be thankful that he did. Because that morning was the first time he saw you. You sat closer to the front of the bus, in one of those unfortunate seats turned the other way, so Hinata could watch as you bopped your head carefully to whatever music you listened to and stared out the window. Your movements didn’t quite match up with his own music, which he found annoying so he turned his off. Who still uses earbuds with a cord? he thought as he watched how the cord was tangled in with your scarf.

Even though he didn’t know the names of any particular flowers, he started comparing you to them.

So he kept catching the bus, often running briskly to the bus stop just to make sure he could get on the right one, even if it was a bit early or a bit late.

Sometimes he got a seat where he could see your face, sometimes he had to pretend to adjust something to turn and catch glances at you, and sometimes he could only pout at the top of your head over the seat. Nonetheless, he started imagining what you did after stepping off the bus. Were you a student? A florist? A musician? Or maybe you worked in some office, like Kuroo.

You always got off before him, the same stop every time, and his eyes would follow you until you were blurry because the bus moved and then you were out of sight. He would then slump back in his seat, putting his headphones on for two more stops until he could get off, jogging to make up for the warm-up time he missed.

“You ever considered getting a car?” Sakusa asked him one day as Hinata shuffled into place beside them where they were finishing warm-ups while he started them, beginning with his thighs while Sakusa rolled his shoulders back into place.

“No,” Hinata answered sharply before chuckling, struggling a bit to keep his balance in the pose he used. “I mean, the bus is cheaper.”

Atsumu scoffed. “As if money for a car should be a problem, ya can get a little golf or something if yer so worried,” he said, jumping in place to loosen up his muscles.

“I could get a car, but I don’t really need it. Think of the environment, Tsumu.” Hinata teased back, switching legs as Bokuto came from the bathroom.

“Sho!” he cheered, not minding any conversation they might have had before. Hinata kept on with his warmup beside the net while they started with Atsumu setting for their spikes. Sakusa made little comments and quickly, everyone forgot about the previous conversation. Finally, Hinata was ready to spike. Atsumu set up a few for him before they were told to get ready for team practice, everyone taking a break to fill up on water.

As Hinata dried off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, he sighed. “Actually, there’s this girl,” he said, stopping when he heard someone gasp dramatically, not sure which of his team members it was as he continued. “On the bus, she’s really pretty.”

“Don’t be shy, tell us about ‘er,” Atsumu encouraged, leaning his arm uncomfortably on Sakusa’s shoulder, a motion that was quickly denied.

So Hinata did, he got up from the bench and with unnecessary gestures, he told them about which stop you get off at and detailed the colour of your hair. He had a small discussion with himself about what word to use for the colour of your eyes, and then when he finished he looked at his friends with the sweetest smile.

Bokuto, ever the optimist, nodded encouragingly. “And?”

Hinata’s nose scrunched. “That’s it. We haven’t talked yet.”

“You take the bus every day just to stare at her? That’s not creepy at all,” Sakusa said sarcastically, ending the conversation on that note as they were called back to the court.

You didn’t mean to. Your eyes usually stayed on the scenery passing by, making up scenes in your head based on whatever music your shuffled playlist handed you, so you didn’t mean to make eye contact with the orange-haired guy when you were on your way off the bus. He sat in the seat closest to the door, and when your eyes met his, he smiled. You could have sworn it was cloudy outside, so why was the sun sitting on the bus with you this whole time? And why didn’t you notice it before?

The moment was cut short as more people were getting off, some burly man bumping your shoulder to get off and naturally pushing you along as you realised it was indeed drizzling outside. By the time you turned around to seek his warmth again, the bus doors were closing and the bus carried your sunshine away.

The day after, the volume on your earbuds was a bit lower as you stepped on the bus, looking around uncharacteristically and deflating when you realised there was no orange hair in sight. So you sat down in the seat behind where he sat yesterday and got back to looking out the window.

It wasn’t until four stops later that someone sat down beside you, and you frowned when you looked forward and saw that the bus wasn’t that full, so then you turned to whoever sat beside you. And there he was, warm just like the last time you saw him.

“Sorry, is it okay if I sit here?��� he asked, loudly enough to disturb other commuters, but you couldn’t hear while your earbuds were still in. Your eyes zeroed in on his cheeks where there were tiny freckles kissed by a soft red flush, probably from running to the bus stop or something. Then you looked down, noticing how his lips were moving before his tongue ran between them, oh.

You picked your earbud out before tucking some hair behind your ear so you could see him properly, taking in a quick breath. “Sorry! What did you say?” you asked, corners of your lips tilted up.

Hinata chuckled, skipping the question of whether or not he could sit there. “What are you listening to?” he asked instead, pointing to the earbud you were rolling between your fingers.

You hesitated for a second before simply handing the earbud over, an inviting glint in your eyes as you silently let him indulge in your privacy. He smiled even brighter, making you squint slightly before he took the earbud and put it in his ear, subconsciously leaning a bit closer so he wouldn’t pull yours out.

And as he started slightly moving his head, you wondered what he was so happy about so early in the morning. If the sun’s brightest time is midday, why does it feel like it’s right here at 06.47? You chuckled silently under your breath, wondering if everyone else on the bus felt his warmth too. “I like your smile,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Hinata really liked your music, it suited you and at the same time, it was nothing like what he imagined. He didn’t listen to music that often, preferring to listen to his breathing and nature while jogging, but he could get used to this if he could share it with someone. With you.

When you took the initiative to talk more, he almost felt shy about it, lifting a hand to the back of his neck. “Thank you. I like your music,” he said, wanting to compliment you back but feeling like he couldn’t just say I like you. Because he did, he knew so little about you that it wasn’t easy to pinpoint anything, but he just liked you.

Eventually, you had to get off, so Hinata scrambled out of his seat, making your earbud fall out. Now he stood beside the seat, the two of you still connected as you held your phone and he had the earbud in. Quickly, he took it out and apologised, to which you told him not to worry before walking past him and in the heat of your fluster, you didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even catch his name.

The next time you sat down on the bus, you were determined to do better, exactly how Hinata was yesterday as he braced himself to talk to you. When Hinata once again stepped on the bus at his usual stop, you lifted your hand and waved at him, making him smile and come over to sit beside you. “Hey!” he greeted cheerfully.

“Hi,” you responded, very aware of your upper arm pressed against his even if there was space enough not to. You handed over one earbud for him, taking in a deep breath of courage. “You never told me your name.”

Hinata took the earbud but didn’t put it in his ear. “Shoyo. Hinata Shoyo.” He mentally cursed at how he sounded like James Bond, but every other thought dissipated when you responded with your name. He liked it. He looked at you, noticing how prettily your eyelashes swung out at the edge and how he could finally decide on your eye colour now that he saw you up close. “Pretty,” he whispered, not sure if he was talking about your name or just you.

You blushed, turning away for a moment and then looking back at him, wondering the same thing as he did. “What do you do, Shoyo?” you asked, letting his name roll off your tongue like a sour candy you weren’t sure you could handle but still felt tempted to eat up.

“I’m a professional volleyball player,” he answered, looking proud. Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise.

“Really? That’s so cool!” you said, making sure you didn’t talk too loudly and disturb others on the bus. You were amazed and naturally let your eyes browse down to get a glimpse of his physique. Professional athlete. “I don’t know why I thought professional athletes didn’t use public transport.”

If you asked his teammates, they don't, he thought. Hinata nodded, mindlessly twirling the earbud in his hand, which made you take yours out and tug on the cord to put it away. “And you? What do you do?” He bit his lip lightly in anticipation, every one of his theories flashing by in his mind. He checked the screen to find it wasn’t that long until you had to get off.

“It’s boring, I work in a cafe,” you said, nose scrunching at how lame your job was compared to his.

“You don’t like it?” he asked curiously. You hummed a short tone, thinking about it.

“I kinda love it. It’s just not as cool as being a volleyball player,” you said, emphasis on the last words, which made Hinata huff out a short laugh. “I’m not sure what I want to do yet.”

“If you like it, it’s cool,” he said like there was no use arguing. And you suppose it wasn’t, because you should in fact enjoy these years of your life where you’re still figuring things out. “Can I come with you?”

You blinked at him, looking from the front of the bus and back to him. “Yes? But weren’t you going somewhere?”

“I don’t even have work today, I just got on the bus to see you,” he admitted, and you hoped your gleeful laughter covered the sound of your heartbeat.

Now you’re together all the time, but you’re not always on the bus. You’re at the cafe, taking a break and sharing a piece of cake, you’re in the park either talking and laughing or having him show you how to play volleyball and laughing even more, you’re at his place and kissing on his couch after not seeing each other all day while your music plays softly on the speakers, you’re at his game to cheer for him and then meet all his friends and perhaps even family, and you’re in a restaurant when he gives you a little silver ring to promise you two stick together even while figuring things out. Things like how to open a brand new cafe in Brazil after he airs the idea of moving back there.

Because the two of you just wanted to be together, like how flowers always seem to reach for the sun and the sun does its best to keep them warm in the limited time it has.

masterlist

/tags @hotvinimon @makkir0ll

[hiraethwrote]

your only competition - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: constantly trying to one up each other, youre always at each others throat. swearing you hate the other, neither want to admit that you might enjoy your time spent together. until... ✧ cw: academic rivals, some swearing, poorly written combat scenes (sorry), injuries, mentions of blood, bickering, some angst, slight comfort, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 5.0k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Satoru Gojo was the best, in every sense of the word. Being the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes definitely counted for something. And so he began to excel well beyond his classmates, fairly enjoying the spotlight that went with his rare abilities. Wasn’t it always nice to get recognition for your achievements? Satoru thought so at least.

Sitting alone at the top, he was sent on solo missions for curses his peers couldn’t face. That was, of course, until the day you showed up. He didn’t know it at the time, but that warm September day you walked into the classroom would be burned into his memory for as long as he’d live.

Everyone’s heads had perked up when an unfamiliar individual had paraded into the classroom, following close behind Yaga. You'd held your head high, hands tucked neatly behind your back while Yaga introduced you as the new student. It had to be a joke, Satoru had thought, a snicker playing on his lips at the sight of you. Gathering as much information as he could just by letting his eyes travel you, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of cursed energy, so why were placed in their class?

Your eyes shined with a childlike innocence, like you were totally unaware of the world you were all living in. One could feel you radiate a sense of hope that only came from being inexperienced. Oh, how hard the harsh reality would hit you once you were faced with what was out there.

After class, Shoko had yanked Satoru back into the classroom by his uniform, her eyebrows furrowed in a strict scowl. “I know what you’re thinking, Satoru.” He stared back at her with big eyes, pretending he didn’t know what she was getting at. “She’s been sheltered, we all saw it. So it’s important you behave!”

“I always behave.” He slumped over as he spoke, appearing more weakly to enforce his dumb act.

“I mean it, Satoru. She’s going to need our help.”

He took his index finger and drew an X over his heart. “You have my word.” His infamous smirk still danced on his lips, which made Shoko not believe him for a second. She knew there wasn’t much she could do if he’d already decided to tease you. With a disappointed shake of the head, she left him standing with his hands in his pockets.

Satoru kept his eye on her until she had turned a corner. The second she was out of sight, he darted in the opposite direction with a clear mission in mind, managing to catch up with you as you were walking down the hall to your dormitory.

“Hey, wait up.” With a curious look, you turned to the source of the voice that called your name. Pacing towards you, was a tall, lanky fellow with locks white as snow, the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in a long time, wearing a pair of characteristic sunglasses.

“You must be the one and only Satoru Gojo,” you said, mirroring his expression as you defensively crossed your arms over your chest.

“I see Yaga already told you about me.”

“No, not really,” you shrugged, your tone taking him by surprise. “But it’s not like your name is unknown in our world.”

“So what have you heard about me then?” He bent forward to be on your level, fishing for compliments, making you feel patronised.

“Don’t feel like inflating your ego more. It’s already dangerous walking around with a head big as yours.” Satoru instantly jerked back into a straight position, retrieving his hands from his pockets to regain a more dominant position.

“Well, aren’t you cute,” he said sarcastically.

“Was there something you wanted?”

Looking down on you, he began to wonder if you were putting on a face, intentionally giving off the impression of being reckless and empty headed. Therefore he had started to theorise the bounce in your step didn’t come from being inexperienced; it came from a film belief that you were better than what people gave you credit for.

“It not every day a new sorcerer joins us, so I’m just curious about what makes you special?” The self satisfied smirk was back on his face in order to seem unbothered by your snarky remarks.

“What’s it to you?” Fuck you, was the first thought that crossed his mind when you’d once again, shut him down. You weren’t giving him anything to go on, not verbally or on any level his Six Eyes could detect.

“We’re classmates now. A team — think I could benefit from knowing,” he said gallantly.

“You’ll know soon enough,” you smirked at him as you began to back away towards your room.

His smile slowly faltered, his eyebrows narrowing in frustration. “Good luck.”

“Sure, thanks,” you waved nonchalantly over your shoulder as you entered your room without another word.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he still couldn’t pin point anything about you. The only logical explanation to having an ignorant demeanour whilst having a sharp tongue would be you were able to fend for yourself. Then why couldn’t he sense any power on you?

But as you’d said, he would find out soon enough. Even as soon as the next day, when you’d all met for sparring. It was like the higher ups had heard his prayers, because he had been paired up against you. His excitement didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who kicked him weakly in the shin to try and smother it.

“You go easy on her, mister,” she’d said so only he was able to hear.

“Don’t worry, Shoko. I’m not cruel. I’ll end it quickly so she won’t humiliate herself too much,.”

Once you were both firmly placed on your respective positions, both with a staff in your hands, he made sure to capture your gaze. “Are you ready for this, sweetheart?” His tone was as sweet as sugar, never breaking the eye contact as you both leaned forward in a bow.

“Are you, sweetheart?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. He hummed softly at your comment, entertained by the attitude he knew he’d wipe off you the second the sparring started.

After being underestimated for years and years, you'd eventually had no choice but to learn how to use it to your advantage. You leaned into the role of an unintelligent girl who went into every situation without thinking. People became sloppy when they faced you, confident they’d easily take you out.

Satoru was no different. What was worse, was how he didn’t even try to hide how sure he was that you were weak. His smile said it all.

Yaga signalled for you to start, instantly tightening your grip on your staff before striking it directly at him. He was a little startled at how you immediately went for the offensive, but he swiftly dodged the attack just as you had expected. You exploited his dodge, by having the staff spin around before smacking him in the back of the head, stumbling over the foot you had strategically placed in front of him.

Tumbling forward, he finally managed to steady himself only to be faced by Suguru and Shoko standing on the sidelines, both choking back the laughter about to spill out of them. None of the three students had expected you to be so aggressive from the get go, let alone succeed at it.

He shook off the shock, not to mention the pain, from the hit before turning back to look at you. The playfulness had seized to exist and now there was determination written all over him. The corner of your lips perked up in a content smirk.

His staff came piercing through the air, you spun away in the last second before flipping the staff and deflecting his next move, trapping his weapon under yours. You turned to look at him and he didn’t like the mischievous expression plastered on your face.

“What are you playing at?” He asked with a small pant. Your smile only grew at the sight of his frustrated demeanour.

This was the part you loved, the moment you could see it in your opponent’s eyes that they had severely misjudged you. And in their epiphany, you knew they still wouldn’t be able to read you clearly. That being said, you were fighting no other than Satoru Gojo, who even if he couldn’t predict your next move, could be able to take you out regardless.

Suddenly, you felt your staff slip and glide against his. He quickly took advantage of how you’d put your weight on the staff. Before you knew it, you felt the impact of his staff slam against your back.

You found your footing before you reactively threw your elbow at his face. A scoff of surprise slipped out of you when it stopped an inch from his face without him doing anything.

“Asshole,” you breathed. This was the oh-so-famous infinity you had been told about, but you didn’t quite understand it or how it worked. It was no secret that Satoru was well on his way to become the strongest, but he wasn’t there just yet. So maybe you could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he wasn’t a hundred percent in control of his infinity, that it had been an instinctive reaction.

Nevertheless, it was what you had waited for. You’d wanted him to be the one to resort to his powers first so you could shamelessly use yours.

His breath hitched in his throat when an overwhelming wave of unfamiliar power crashed over him. “What the-“ he didn’t understand what was happening. Was this your power, and why hadn’t he been able to sense it earlier? Had you really been able to block him out from getting insight in your technique?

He didn’t even realise what was happening until he was jerked into the air before slamming against the floor with immense force, landing on his shoulder. The room were quiet for a solid ten seconds before he staggered back on his feet before slow claps in your honour was heard from his friends.

“What the hell was that?” He panted, approaching you with quick steps as his hand rubbed circles on his shoulder.

“That was how you win,” you said in between heavy breaths, leaning your hands on your knees.

“That’s not what I mean,” he nearly growled. Before he was able to interrogate you further, a friendly slap was placed on his back.

“Just admit it, Satoru. She beat you,” Suguru said with a low chuckle. Satoru didn’t even flinch, he kept his gaze pinned on you.

“But you cheated,” he said with a displeased chuckle. You didn’t even entrain his comment, only turning away from him and starting to walk out of the gymnasium. “Hey, I’m talking to you. That last move was dirty.” You heard his footsteps hurry over to you again.

“How’s that?” Snapping around to face him, folding your arms over your chest. “By using my technique? If that’s the case, you’re nose should be bleeding right now.”

With worried eyes, Shoko and Suguru watched your bickering from afar, knowing exactly how this relation was going to play out. The loud argument in the gymnasium was only the beginning of your rivalry. Every person unfortunate enough to witness your public displays of hatred, quickly learned that both you and Satoru were extremely headstrong — maybe stubborn was a better word.

Both of you brought your petty arguing with you into the classroom the first chance you got. It became a never ending competition of who could answer the questions faster. And if the chance offered itself, you would instantly argue with the other person to the best of your ability. No one could tell if you did it to show off who knew the most, or if it was simply to humiliate the other. Either way, it got annoying fast.

Yaga had on several occasions tried to shut down the fighting, but had little success. You would both find one way or another to go at each other anyways. On one occasion, you’d gotten into a fight so bad that Yaga had ordered for the rest of them to leave the room and just let you two hash it out. He’d come back an hour later, only to see through the door crack that you were still going at it. He also saw how Satoru was fighting to let his smugness show, clearly getting a kick out of provoking you until you were red as a tomato.

“Are you really that stupid, Satoru?”

“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, shut up!”

The only place Shoko and Suguru managed to catch a break was during sparring, when they would sneak out for cigarettes the second you and Satoru said the first word to each other.

In every session, neither of you accepted going against anyone but each other. After your first sparring match, Satoru was determined to win the next one, which he did. And how he had won would probably haunt you forever.

You were just about to win yet another match, but it troubled you that Satoru didn’t seem worried about losing. You had the staff pressed against his, sweat dripping down your brow. He was heaving as much as you, but a small smirk was lurking at the corner of his lips.

That’s when he cocked his head forward, revealing the pair of most hypnotising blue eyes you’d ever seen. You had no control of how your muscles relaxed and expression softened. As a soft sigh slipped out of you, he instantly saw his opportunity to down you, knocking the wind out of your lungs when you’d hit the floor.

You'd gone to bed fuming that night, the image of Satoru laughing and teasing you flashing behind your eyelids as you so desperately tried to fall asleep. You were absolutely mortified by the fact that he’d won simply by his appearance; no combat skill, no infinity, no technique, no nothing!

The next morning you got up at the crack of dawn in order to work out and prepare yourself for the next time you’d face him. Never again would you give him the opportunity to embarrass you like that.

Neither is you would probably admit it, but as the training went on, you both learned a lot from each other. Especially when you began to make use of your powers.

Finally you were starting to understand how the most powerful sorcerer functioned, absolutely astonished by the sheer possibility of it. But as you got to know him more, you also so that his powers wouldn’t have been nearly as special if it hadn’t been for Satoru himself. The extraordinary way he so casually carried himself despite of it all, you couldn’t help but admire it. Though you wouldn’t let him know that.

Satoru too, was intrigued by you because it was only during sparring sessions he was able to see what your cursed technique could be capable of. Outside the gymnasium, you kept the cards close to your chest, revealing absolutely nothing about yourself. But in here, you let that shield down. The power you held was so intense, to the point he knew you were definitely holding back on him — just as he was with you.

As the matches got more intense, Suguru and Shoko kept betting the same 1000 yen on who would win. Not only that, they both seemed to notice the growing tension between you, despite the fact that you said you couldn’t stand each other.

And tension there was, as right now. Satoru had his arm around your neck, pressing against your chest. You had your hands tugging on his forearm as your back was pushed up against him. Cursing his name under your breath, you fought the small smile that was sneaking its way onto your face.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you felt him lean in forward, his hot breath agains your ear before he spoke, “think I like you in this position better.” If you weren’t so focused on trying to beat him, you would probably have paid more attention to the flirtation in his voice.

In a matter of seconds, you benefitted from his playfulness and reversed the roles where you had him pinned against the ground in defeat. “Don’t go soft on me now, Satoru. Ain’t going to be any fun here anymore if you make it too easy.”

“I’m just trying to get in your head.”

“Hmm, funny. Doesn’t seem like it’s working,” you teased before you stood up without offering him a helping hand.

Satoru had his eyes follow you the entire way out of the gymnasium, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. He quickly snapped back to reality when he heard Suguru’s voice.

“Satoru!”

Turning to look at his friends, there was no signs of the smile that was present just a second ago. “What?”

“We called your name like four times!” Neither of them looked pleased, Shoko with her arms crossed over her chest and high shoulders, and Suguru with his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, was just lost in thought.”

“We can tell,” Shoko sighed as they both began to follow him close behind as he walked for the exit of the gymnasium.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Suguru teased, instantly earning him a tired scoff from Satoru. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Give it a rest.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s a menace. You know I think so.”

“Yeah? Could have fooled us,” he shrugged in response.

“What do you mean?” Shoko and Suguru shared a quick glance in question if he was playing dumb or if he actually didn’t know what they were getting at.

“When you’re not seeking her out to argue, then you do not shut up about her.”

He tried to shrug them off. “Because she gets on my last nerve.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t get it,” Shoko interrupted him, clearly annoyed. “If you disliked her as much as you say you do, you’d think you would want as little to do with her as possible.”

“Everyone complains about people they don’t like.”

“Every once in a while, sure. But it’s all the god damn time!”

Satoru just shook his head, trying to shake off their accusations. “Whatever it is you’re getting at, you can drop it. You’ve never been more off.”

With a deep sigh, Shoko turned to Suguru with a stern look in hopes he could get him to realise how absolutely insufferable he had been since you'd arrived. The second they managed to peer him away from throwing insults in your direction, he went on to complain about anything you’d done. Your answers in class were stupid, your technique when training was sloppy, you had immense power but didn’t know how to use it.

But the absolute worst was when you and Satoru had been on missions. Seeing as the two of you were significantly stronger than the rest of them, you were often sent on more demanding missions just the two of you, on several occasions facing special grade curses.

When both Suguru and Shoko were present, there was only so much new information Satoru could provide them with. But if you were gone for a day or two, there was no shutting him up. He went on and on about whatever curse you met and went into detail about what you’d done to exorcise them. To anyone listening, it sounded like he admired every move you made, throwing in random, cruel remarks just to keep up the image of hatred.

“Look, if you can tell yourself you talk so much about her because you hate her, fine. But how do you explain the looks,” Suguru continued the discussion.

“Looks?” Shoko swore she could punch him.

“You can’t be serious?” He huffed.

Truth was, Satoru was fully aware of how his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. He knew he couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw you thrive in battle, whether in practice with him or on missions. And whenever your skin got in contact with his, he became idiotically aware of himself.

But he could never in a million years admit that. Not after being so adamant in his disdain for you. “You guys are reaching,” he said with his characteristic, cocky chuckle as he began to walk away. “She’s my only real competition. It’s only fair I stay on top of it so she doesn’t surpass me.”

His friends only scowled at him as he exited the gymnasium. “1000 yen they’re sleeping together in a month.”

“Nah, you’re winning that bet,” Shoko said with a defeated chuckle.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Satoru couldn’t understand what had happened. He was only staring empty at Yaga, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out his words, feeling his mouth run dry.

The last thing he remembered was Shoko’s frantic voice on the phone, telling him to hurry back to Jujutsu High. He’d only ever heard her voice that panicked a handful of times before; she was usually so calm and collected.

He’d wasted no time getting back, being rushed by both Suguru and Yaga the second he had set foot within the premises. The first thing he’d noticed was Suguru limping and clutching his stomach while his lip was bloodied.

Oh no.

“You alright?” He’d asked weakly, as he has begun to place the pieces together.

Suguru simply nodded with a wince in pain. “I’m fine, but Satoru-“

“You both made it back, right?” He tried to smother the desperation in his voice.

“Yes, but-“

Satoru had already begun to zone out, realising what they were about to tell him. He knew you and Suguru had gone on a mission— a mission which was originally meant for you and him.

However, last minute the higher ups had decided Satoru had to go on a solo mission. Though he had tried to argue, they had been very adamant. The only deal he had managed to make with them was for Suguru to go with you so you didn’t find yourself alone on a mission intended for the two of you.

“Satoru.” Though somewhat muffled, he managed to make out Suguru calling his name again.

“What happened?”

Suguru struggled to form the words, only stuttering a few sounds before Yaga jumped in to explain. “The curse that met them was special grade, not first grade like we first thought.”

“Okay, but she should be able to-“

“Satoru, you didn’t see it. It was unlike anything we’ve faced before,” Suguru finally managed to form a sentence as he could hear the stress start to appear in the voice of his best friend.

“No, but you’re both strong. Next to me, you’re the strongest!” He was starting to get severely anxious, his heart beating faster and faster. It was only made worse by how they didn’t seem to give him all the information straight forward.

“She got me out first.”

“Wait, got you out first? Is she not here?”

“Satoru?” Shoko’s shallow voice drew their attention to her, as her head perked out the door. Slowly, she made her way over to them, genuine concern on her face.

“Can someone please tell me what happened?” He pleaded, turning restless by the way they were all looking at each other while he was still left in the dark.

“She managed to hold the curse at bay long enough for me to go in again and get her.”

“She’s stable for now, but I… I’m not sure when she’ll wake up.”

This couldn’t happen. You always knew what you were doing when you were out on missions. Never reckless, despite what one might think. You took every precaution imaginable, avoiding every risk that you might face.

So how come they were telling him that you’d taken one hell of a beating? He felt the only reasonable explanation was that this was a sick joke.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, before hesitatingly asking what he’d wanted since he arrived. “Can I see her?” Shoko simply nodded before leading him to the door, carefully opening it up for him. Slowly stepping into the dimly lit room, his eyes immediately landed on you.

The first thing to hit him was how he couldn’t sense your cursed energy, and not because you were blocking him out like you usually did. But you just felt weak, and he couldn’t ever recall seeing you so peaceful.

Laying completely still on your back, your covers only covering your legs revealing your bandaged torso, a tiny bloodstain seeping through. Your face was different shades of blue, evidence of the battle.

As much as both of you had faced strong curses before, you’d never been this beaten up before. He became a little nauseous at the sight, beginning to picture how every thing had gone down wherever it was you had been sent on mission.

He cautiously approached your bedside, scared that if he made any sudden moves or sounds that he would somehow make it worse, before sitting down on the chair beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely a whisper. The guilt had hit him like a truck, taking responsibility for not being there.

If he had wanted to, he knew he could have convinced the higher ups not to send him on that solo mission. And if so, he could have been there and helped— saved you.

Against all odds, through all the fighting and bickering, you had become a strong team. Neither of you would say it out loud, but somewhere along the line, you had both grown to care for each other. Satoru, however, hadn’t realised it until his breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of you so fragile.

As the days past, your wound healed and your bruises faded from your face, but you showed no signs of waking up. Satoru grew more impatient for each day that went by, especially when no one had any more answers to give.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ve done all that I can,” Shoko explained desperately almost on a daily basis, but he kept asking everyday.

Day in and day out, he sat in that damn uncomfortable chair, only occasionally pacing around the room for two minutes to stretch his legs before settling down in the chair again. He barely slept, so adamant on meeting your gaze when your eyes finally fluttered open.

“You gotta wake up soon,” he pleaded to deaf ears. Three weeks of waiting had been pure torture. “I need you to come back.” A somber chuckle left his lips.

Reluctantly, he dared to carefully grab your delicate hand in his. It was a weird sensation, as the only time he had felt your skin was when you were in combat training. Now it was soft and tender, letting his thumb glide graciously over the back of your hand.

“Do I have to beg you?” His voice was so careful, like he wasn’t able to let it out in its entirety. “If that’s what you’re trying to make me do, that’s not funny.”

Still nothing. Not a twitch in your eyelids, not your lips opening to speak, not your nose flaring as you took the first deep breath waking up.

“Wouldn't put it past you,” a faint smile reactively found its way onto his face. “Just please. Wake up.”

Dead silence filled the room, his eyes locked on your small hand resting in his. He didn’t realise his eyes had actually shed a tear until it hit your hand, his own intense emotions surprising him.

“You are going soft on me, sweetheart.” Satoru attention shot towards you, barely making out what you had groaned out. Muttering your name in shock, a self satisfied smirk grew on your lip. “Water, please,” you squealed before breaking out in coughs. Scrambling out of the chair, he clumsily filled you a glass of water.

“You’re awake.” His voice was so light, unlike how you were used to hearing it. Usually there was always a smirk to sense in his voice, constantly smug. But now he was so gentle, as he carefully placed his hand on your back to help you up before handing you the glass. You were so used to having his hands throw punches at you, it was a delightful change when he tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head as you drank.

“How long have I been out?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before sitting back down in the chair. “A little over three weeks.”

Your eyes widened, another small cough escaping you. “Three weeks—“ a low whistle. “Bet you’ve surpassed me by far now.” You were only half joking, genuinely upset that you might have fallen behind. But, to your surprise, he gave you a nervous chuckle.

“Uhm, n-no,” he said before clearing his throat, shaking away his uneasiness. “Not really.”

“Okay? What have you been up to this whole time then?” The weak smile on your lips gradually faded when it dawned on you. With adoration glistening in your eyes, his gaze met yours. “Oh,” you spoke hoarsely. “You haven’t really sat here all the time, have you?”

“No, I’ve walked around the room a few times.” Blinking rapidly at him, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. This only confirmed the suspicions you’d been too scared to even think, that there might have been stolen glances and smiles with intentions shared between the two of you.

Without mentioning it, he had intuitively taken your hand in his again. Your cheeks heating from the feeling of his compassionate touch, pleasantly surprised by how natural it felt to have him hold it.

“I should probably get Shoko-“ he was about to stand up, but tightened the grip on his hand to prevent him.

“Just-“ anxiously clearing your throat. “I feel fine, we can wait a little longer.” His eyes captured your glare and he had never looked at you with so much passion before, making your heart skip a beat. “Thank you for sitting with me.”

“Wanted to be there when you woke up,” a tired smile on his lips.

“I’m glad you were.”

“Me too.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n alright guys... "ill take a break from writing this week" im full of crap. so when I was 2k words deep, I rewrote the entire thing. then i just kept writing and writing, it never ended. i thought it was gonna be much shorter. had to perfrom some killing of darlings. when i finished it first it was like 5.3k words so.

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[hearts4chriss]

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐁𝐒𝐅! 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐛𝐬𝐟

prompt by this request: "chris getting jealous bc his bsf seems flirty with matt so he confesses his feelings and it ends with smuttttt”

contains: HELLA SMUTTT, Chris confessing his feelings, mad jealous Chris, dom!chris, suggestive, “flirting” w Matt??, Chris and yours first kiss, choking, spanking, degrading names (slut, whore yktv), MUCH dumification, use of pet names (mama, baby, sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl ), stomach bulge!, flashbacks of Chris fantasizing about you, overstimulation, cream pie, squirting, Chris having a massive cock obviously, missionary, slight m!oral, aftercare as always!! Heavy ( bath tg, praising, concerned!chris reassurance

a/n- this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so here it is

For years, since we were kids. I’ve always had a huge crush on my bestfriend.

I couldn’t get over her no matter how hard I tried and it grew more and more especially since she lives in LA now and we see her almost everyday.

It got worse. So bad. I needed her

I remember seeing her in an orange bikini complimenting her gorgeous features. The way the bottoms hugged her curves making her ass pop out was enough to make me finish in my pants.

She was gorgeous, I wanted to have her badly but it was Nearly impossible fo get her alone.

Especially with Matt around. It pissed me off when I’d see them laughing together or making tiktoks.

That’s my girl

I remember sitting in my room scrolling on instagram when I got the notification she posted on her story

Fuck she looked so good.

the way the grey shorts hugged her ass just how I liked, she looked so gorgeous too.

I, unintentionally started palming myself through my sweats.

I couldn’t help it she had such an affect on me.

I pulled my sweats down revealing my boxers with a wet spot where my tip was.

“Shit”. I groan pulling them down fully as my dick slapped against my stomach begging to be touched, wishing it was her hand and not mine.

I began to stroke myself with shaky hands imagining it was her lips wrapped around me and I throw my head back against the pillows as my mind wandered

She was irresistible, I had to have her.

We always had a flirty thing going on and I didn’t think it would get this far.

Until…

Today was on of those days where I was in the kitchen leaning on the counter drinking a Pepsi pretending to watch TV as I listen to her faint giggles as her and my fucking brother watched TV.

I felt my hand tighten around the can as I saw how close they were, knowing he didn’t like her but I didn’t care. I wanted her all too myself.

I sighed throwing my can out coming up with an idea to figure out a way to get her for me.

Matt and nick going to get food.

“hey Matt, wanna go get some food? Y/n likes this Chinese place it’s about an hour away, nick prob wants to go”. I say smiling with a cocky grin and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay fine I’ll be back in like 4 fucking hours nick let’s go!”. Matt tells and Nick comes downstairs.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky we love you”. Nick says sarcastically and they walk out the house but fuck something about the way Matt looked at her before he left just made me more pissed off.

“Chris?”. I stand up adjusting my shorts as the grey material rolled up my ass and my tank top hugged around my tits the watching Chris’s eyes wander.

“What the fuck are you trying to do to me”. Chris mutters into my ear, his hand wrapping around my neck and my breath hitches.

“W-what are you talking about?”. I shudder as his blue eyes pour into mine with an unhappy expression giving me a pity laugh.

“Flirting with my brother in front of me? Seriously?! Is it not obvious how much I want you?”. Chris confessed his nose touching mine making me gulp, my thighs closing together accidentally.

There was no doubt Chris was attractive but hell if I knew he liked me shit I’d probably let him fuck me or something.

“You? Want me?” I said slightly confused and utterly shocked and he takes a deep breath.

“you have no fucking idea how much I want you, and I have no problem showing him that your my girl”. Chris gave me a sly smile picking me up by my ass carrying me downstairs to his room.

“C-Chris wait-“. I was cut off by him kissing me and I melt into his touch. His hands grip my ass tighter making me gasp, his tongue massaging mine as I moan into the kiss.

“Strip”. He demands standing me up and I tilt my head. And he gives me those eyes and immediately comply beginning to peal of my clothes leaving me in a matching set of orange. Chris’s favourite colour.

“Fuck ma you look so pretty..all for me right?” He asks his hands playing with my bra strap making my panties dampen.

“Yes Chris- all for you”. I match his gaze and he smirked pushing me on the bed as I scooted back leaving him room to climb above me.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you”. Chris leaves a soft kiss to my cheek practically ripping my panties off me and I squirm.

“Chris! I liked those!”. I whine and he rolls his eyes pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one movement and his thick, and painfully hard cock springs out hitting his stomach and my heart beat picks up

how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside me?

Chris took in my nervous expression and let out a soft laugh placing his hands on my thighs

“Spread ur legs for me”. He taps my legs and I spread them apart revealing my wet pussy, the arousal glistening on my inner thighs.

he runs a finger along my slit and I jolt slightly at the sudden sensation.

“shit- ur so wet, did i make you like this? Or was it my brother”. Chris asked tilting his head, his jawn clenched ans my breath hitched as he continued moving his finger.

“No answer? Guess I’ll fuck the answer out of you”. Chris pressed my legs against my chest before slamming his cock deep inside me, stretching me out painfully I almost couldn’t take it.

“f-fuck Chris! T-too much!”. I stutter trying to push his hand away but he quickly slaps it away, using my legs as leverage to begin pounding my inside me.

Chris didn’t give me time to adjust to his large size, tears already forming on my eyes from the pleasure.

“shit- your pussy feels so good, better than I’ve imagined”. He let out a deep groan watching how my pussy sucked him in, Chris’s hips driving into mine as I squint my eyes shut.

“Already becoming a mess on my cock? Should’ve kept matt here so he could see how much of slut you are for me”. Chris grips my neck angling his hips to thrust deeper and I squeal, my eyes meeting with his blues, an electric feeling shooting through me.

He wouldn’t let up his pace, his cock plunging into my tight hole as the pain turned to pleasure thankfully as my cunt morphed to fit his dick.

And Chris was fucking right, I was a slut for him and I has tried to hide it this whole time by being innocent and flirtatious with his brother but the second I was underneath him, I was begging for him to touch me

“Oh shitt- d-don’t stop- fuck”. I throw my head back on the soft pillows, moaning curses breathlessly, my tits bouncing with his quick and hard movements, bound to leave bruises between my thighs burning with sensation.

“mmph fuck- wasn’t planning on it pretty girl”. He moaned, completely infatuated with how I wrapped around him perfectly, like I was made for him. And shit- was he made for me.

She felt so good, almost as if her pussy and every thing about her was made for me.

I couldn’t get enough of her, the Moans and squeaks of my name leaving her swollen lips could’ve made me cum on the spot.

the way she could barley form a sentence as I fucked her, and I wasn’t even close to being done with her yet.

I was going to make sure she knew that she was mine, my fucking girl.

“Chris-you feel so good”. She moaned my name again, turning me on much more than it should’ve, the way her eyes barely opened, and how she’d bite her and stare at me grasping her breasts.

“yeah? you like when I fuck you dumb like this? Can’t even get a word out?”. I taunt, I gripped her neck tighter, her legs finding their way up on my shoulders crying out my name like it’s the only one she knew.

I couldn’t even answer, the things he were asking me required my full attention and shit- I was so far gone.

“I suggest you answer me ma because your about to to cum”. Chris presses his chest on mine, our noses touching as he breathed heavily into my mouth while I reciprocated the same action.

“mm-m I-fuck I-i love it”. I shudder on each word, praying he heard me because I really could not talk right now. I squeezed my eyes shut and he chuckled seeing how speechless he fucked.

“God I could listen to you like this all day”. Chris grunted into my ear as I felt the stomach coil I had began to burst unexpectedly from the overwhelming pleasure.

Chris made me squirt

“S-shit! I’m sorry I-“. I shook as the fluids made a mess over his lower stomach but gasping as he didn’t slow down.

“Never apologize that was hot as fuck- got one more in you?”. He pants resting his head on my shoulder quickening his pace and I whimper gripping his back.

“Oh god Chris- I-I can’t”. My nails run down his back making marks and he bites his bottom lip as I pulled him closer.

His hips pushing into mine, as my juices had coated his cock, leaking out of me creating a wet sensation of our sex.

“You can take it baby, being such a good girl, fuck just one more”. He let out a shaky moan throwing a my leg around his waist and I let out a loud moan at the angle Chris’s cock hit, brushing my g-spot.

“C-Chris ur so deep-“. I let out pornographic sounds and he gave me a deep kiss before pressing his hand where his dick was poking through.

his hand pressed down on the bulge in my stomach and I felt the tears run down my face from the overwhelming pleasure.

“that’s all me baby- fuck I love ur pussy so much-“. He stutters throwing his head as hair sticks to his forehead, the sight was more than appealing.

His slightly parted lips producing whimpers, curses and moans of my name. The way he squeezed my hips making sure I could feel every thick inch of him and the sweat coating over his body.

Her lips parted releasing pants and moans of my name and the occasional “fuck”, her hair now sweated out with hickeys along her neck and tits reminding her that she was mine now. The way her nails would grip my back drawing marks that showed how much she enjoyed it.

“Oh shit- ma- can I cum inside you? M’need you so bad-“. He moans into my neck and I shiver and chant yes’s.

Chris released his seed inside me triggering a second hard orgasm for me, creaming his dick as my body shook.

I turned my head to lay on the pillow before he could catch a glimpse of me, slowly sliding his cock out of me.

He took one look at me and his eyes immediately shifted to one of concern

“wait wait shit- did I hurt you?”. Chris started, seeing how my legs shook from the orgasm I just had.

“please talk to me”. He cupped my cheeks and I gave him a soft smile.

“I’m fine Chris that was- shit- the best sex I’ve ever had”. I let out a quiet sigh and a smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled me into a bridal style hold.

“Well come on let’s get you cleaned up, I wanna spend time with my girl”. He giggled like a child and I rolled my eyes as he carried me into the bathroom running a warm bath for both of us

“No seriously tho your okay?”. He said softly rubbing my shoulders as we soaked in the warm tub.

“Chris the way you put that dick on me I’m more than ok”. I kissed his cheek and his cheeks flushed a bit as he leaned back against the tub whilst I’m in his arms.

She’s really my girl.

@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vanteguccir @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris

[enchantedescapist]

Theodore Nott Headcannons/Background

IT'S KINDA MESSY WRITTEN BUT I LIKE IT SO GIVE IT A CHANCE :)

Theodore Nott was born on October 26th (scorpio) at Florence,Italy and he was raised at the city of Salisbury in Southern England .He is quiet, exceptionally intelligent, and a pretty handsome boy; he doesn't have a superiority complex like others in his friendgroup, but he is very confident and charming carrying also a pride for his house (Slytherin). He has his friends ( Mattheo Riddle,Draco Malfoy,Blaise Zabini,Enzo Berkshire) - but he is a quiet loner an introvert but without that making him antisocial..in fact he is very good with words and fast come backs.He’s very much an observer of the world around him, judging everyone and making wry, snarky, generally sarcastic comments about them in his head and sometimes not only in his head.Theodere might seem the most cold and distant in the friendgroup but he is in his core a kind person ,with humour always making his closest people laugh and generous you just need to know him first and make him feel comfortable otherwise he is very mysterious and private with his life.

Despite being labeled as a "fuckboy" in his friend group and the whole Hogwarts do be in fact ,due to his flirting tendencies,his attractive appearance and his charming words, Theodore craves genuine love and connection. He enjoys attention, especially from girls, but deep down, he desires a meaningful relationship.

Theodore’s mother Rosalina died when he was a young child. She had a rare illness that gradually caused her to lose the ability to use magic - weakening her and pretty much turning her into a Squib, although Theodore didn’t see it that way, but his father did: Tiberius Nott refused to visit his wife in the hospital and basically pretended that she didn’t exist (although he did pay for a private suite in St. Mungo’s.) Theodore, although perhaps six or seven, visited his mother alone, learning how to take the Floo Network to St. Mungo’s to visit and often staying there.

He was present when Rosalina Nott died, providing him with the ability to see thestrals. It also gave him the determination to become a Healer when he graduated from Hogwarts.: it’s his overriding ambition, and he’s utterly driven to succeed. He was particularly good at Potions, and eventually became Potions Master for St. Mungo’s.Its important to mention that Theodore was a good student but he wasnt studying for hours like others ,he was simply doing the bare minimum and that was enough for him.

Theodore’s also a skilled Occlumens - and self-taught, since it’s a skill he found both interesting and useful. (As other skills go, his best subject is Potions; he often finds himself second in the class behind Hermione - third behind Harry in sixth year - something he resents Hermione for. He’s rather baffled by Harry’s sudden sixth-year success but ascribes it to Slughorn’s favoritism.) 5. Is known to everyone that Theodore loves quidditch, he is probably the best beater in the slytherin team.He is very passionate about it and its also a way for him to let his anger out and feel more free ( just go to therapy you have alot of job to do darling) 6.Theodore Nott is also a pragmatic realist but he doesnt believe in blood purity ideology,he is nowhere near as gung-ho as Draco. In fact, he hopes to wait until the war is over and thinks of joining the DEs as something that he’s obligated to do rather than what he genuinely wants to do. (The masks, the grandiose speeches, the pretense of anonymity when he knows practically everyone in the Dark Lord’s inner circle - it’s all utterly ridiculous to him.) 7. He spent the most Christmas alone if he is not invited to the Malfoy manor (which is very grateful for Narcissa and Lucius wanting him), his father is in Azkaban for the Department of Mysteries attack and…many other things but its whatever for him they were not getting along ever ( childhood trauma), and Theodore has no surviving relatives, family members and he doesnt prefer to stay at Hogwarts to face the pity of someone like Albus Dumbledore.Theodore's childhood was marked by loneliness, especially during the holidays alone in an empty house, his only gifts from the family house-elves who rummaged through the attic in an attempt to cheer him up - his Christmas holiday was generally cold, lonely, and sad. 8. Theo was also having a difficulty producing his patronus ( a Husky ) but there was always a memory which made him succeed and find peace the same time …(In the sitting room of the Nott Manor, the young Theodore sits beside his mother, Rosalina, at the grand piano. The room is filled with the soft glow of candlelight. Rosalina's fingers gracefully glide over the keys, coaxing out a melody that fills the air with warmth.As Theodore watches his mother play, a small smile graces his lips, and his eyes light up with admiration. He listens intently, completely enraptured by the music flowing from her fingertips.

With a gentle nudge from Rosalina, Theodore tentatively places his own small hands on the keys, mirroring her movements as they play together. Despite his initial hesitation, he soon finds his rhythm, the music becoming a harmonious duet between them.In that moment, young Theodore feels a sense of peace and contentment wash over him). It's a memory he'll carry with him always, a precious reminder of the bond they share and the joy found in the simple pleasure. Still that day, you can find Theodore playing piano when he feels valunerable or misses his mother a lot, he also doesnt say he can play piano but merlin knows why.

**REPOST AND LIKE IF YOU WANT PART 2! I was so happy while writting it haha.

[jerzwriter]

I just couldn't let the first chapter stand. This story is not part of my headcanon. In my HC, Trystan is in tune enough with Carolina to know she'd consider an engagement premature at this stage. But, I can conceivably see Trystan wanting to propose for... reasons. So, I wanted to do a little fix it... and here it is in two parts. Oh, and since I can suck at getting subsequent parts up, part two will be posted later today. :)

Book: Crimes of Passion: The Proposal Pairing: m!Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Characters: Ruby Webster, Luke Watanabe, Mafalda Ginovesi Words: 2,074 Rating: Teen Summary: Carolina makes an unexpected discovery in Trystan's kitchen, then runs out to seek advice from her friends. A/N: Participating in @choicesmaychallenge24 Hera: Marriage

Part Two Crimes of Passion Masterlist Complete Masterlist

There’s something special about early mornings in New York City - before the sun peeks through the clouds and the first bird has yet to sing its song. It’s the only time you’ll find the City that never sleeps at rest and it can be intoxicating. But the serenity on the streets of New York at this early hour was nothing compared to the tranquility inside Trystan Thorne’s apartment.

There, he slept peacefully with the love of his life nuzzled closely at his side. But while Trystan was adrift in dreamland, he awakened Carolina from hers, courtesy of somniloquy, or as the masses would call it... talking in his sleep.  

“Yes, Your Majesty... Right away... I’ll find it...”

Carolina opened her eyes with a smile; she had seen this show before and found it quite entertaining. It rarely had a repeat, so she never knew what was in store.

“Unhand me, you beast! Otherwise, I can’t promise the search will be thorough!”

She cocked a brow at that one, gently rubbing Trystan's back. “What the hell are you dreaming about, my prince.”

With a quick jerk, he rolled over, desperately reaching out in his sleep. “Don’t go, Carolina! I love you!”

The level of desperation in his voice tugged at Carolina’s heart, and she quickly pulled him into a protective embrace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, kissing the top of his sleepy head. “You silly man. I love you, too.”

Still sleeping, Trystan's face visibly changed as he snuggled closer; peace and contentment were the rules for the day. Once she was certain he was sleeping soundly, Carolina decided returning to her slumber was the best thing to do, and she was just about to reach that goal when the ring of her phone jolted her awake. Not wanting to disturb Trystan, she lowered the volume and quickly tiptoed out of his room, grumbling the whole way. She saw Mafalda’s name on her screen and answered with an exaggerated yawn.

“Who’s dead?” she asked, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“If you’re calling me this early in the morning, I’m assuming someone died, and you need me to find out who did it.”

Mafalda’s sarcastic grin was so powerful Carolina could hear in her voice. “It doesn’t always have to be that deep... or tragic... But I have a case I want you to start on immediately.”

She went on to explain that one of New York’s wealthiest and most influential socialites had her dog stolen while strolling in Central Park; time was of the essence, and the heiress was willing to pay handsomely to have her precious poodle back home.

“Really?” Carolina asked. “This sounds like an easy payday to me!”

“I admire your confidence; now, see it through. The client’s name is Nina Ricci, and her address is....”

“Hold on a second,” Carolina replied, fumbling through a kitchen drawer. “I need to find a pen.”

Still groggy, she was quickly awakened when her fingers brushed over a soft, velvet box. Her heart stopped when she looked down—after all, she had only seen that color blue in movies... and she knew what it meant. It wasn’t nosiness as much as her detective’s acumen that made her open the box at once, and she gasped loud enough for Mafalda to hear when she saw what was inside.

“Carolina... are you OK?”

It was a ring. Not any old ring, but an engagement ring fit for royalty glistening in her hands.

“No... this... this can’t be....” she muttered.

“Carolina, what can’t be?” 

“Oh, uh... Mafalda... it’s uh... it’s nothing. Uhm... I’ll be at the office within the hour.”

She hung up without waiting for a reply, her heart racing as she stared at the glittering gem in her hand.  

“This can’t be...” she repeated. “He’s not planning on proposing... is he?”

She brought the ring closer, the radiant light it emanated assaulting her startled eyes. She had never been one of those girls who dreamed about engagements from childhood, so she couldn’t even begin to guess how many carats this was, though she knew it eclipsed the two-carat boulder that graced Mafalda’s left hand.

“This had to cost him more than I’ve earned in my lifetime,” she muttered. “This is crazy! And he has it in the kitchen drawer... the kitchen drawer. The man has, like... five safes in this apartment! And he keeps this in the kitchen drawer?”  

She let out a shaky breath as a million thoughts raced in her mind. She’d be lying if she said she never thought about the two of them getting married...someday... in the future. The distant future, but this... this was far too soon!

“Is he really ready for this? Am I?”

A vision of Trystan on one knee appeared before her. He cradled the precious gem in his hand, and that sweet, doe-eyed look she had become unable to deny was all over his face. She broke into a sweat. She considered Googling her symptoms. Dizziness, nausea, and a rapid heartbeat could indicate many things, but she felt guilty for hoping to find "discovering an engagement ring in your lover’s kitchen drawer" among the culprits.

The sound of footsteps plodding down the hall pulled her from her panicked state. She returned the ring to the exact spot where she found it and grabbed a container of orange juice from the fridge. Jumping into a chair at the kitchen counter, she scrolled through her phone, attempting to look nonchalant.

That's where a groggy Trystan found her. "Look at you!" He mumbled as his arms encircled her. “It should be against the law to look that good so early in the morning.”

“Really?” She grinned. “You look pretty good in the mornings, too, sir. If they make it illegal, I would have to arrest you.”

“Kinky,” he growled. “As long as we’re in the same cell, I wouldn’t mind one bit.”

He shuffled to the counter to make a pot of coffee. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Mafalda called. She has a case for me. I’ll be heading into the office momentarily.”

Trystan’s face fell. “Today! But we just got back from Drakovia! Surely, Mafalda can spare you for a day!”

 “You have a lot to learn about Mafalda... and what it’s like to be a working person,” Carolina grinned.

“Then it's time I learn. I’ll get dressed and go with you.”

“NO!” Carolina yelled, halting him in his path.

“Why? We are partners, aren’t we?”

“Uh, yeah. But Mafalda only requested me, and, uh, hon... life’s been a whirlwind lately. I think I need a few hours to focus on myself and my work... is that OK?”

“Of course it is. Maybe we could meet up later, at...”

“Oh, look at the time!” Carolina interrupted, planting a quick kiss on Trystan’s cheek before bolting toward the door. “I have to go! Talk to you later!”

“Carolina, wait...” he hollered after her, but it was pointless. She was already gone, and Trystan’s dazed look turned into one of pure amusement.

“I always knew it would be interesting to date an American,” he grinned, raising his coffee cup to his lips. “I just had no idea how interesting.”

~~~~~ 

A short time after, Carolina burst into the agency, startling Ruby and Luke, who were already there.

“Carolina,” Ruby chuckled. “Is someone chasing you?”

“Ruby!” a red-faced Carolina panted. “I need your help! I need your help right now! It’s an...emergency!”

“If it’s about finding the poodle, I’m not your woman. I don’t know much about dogs.”

“It’s not about the dog! It’s about the ring!”

Ruby scrunched her nose. “Did someone lose a ring?”

“No! No, it’s not about a lost ring; it’s about a FOUND ring! An engagement ring! In Trystan’s drawer!”

The room fell silent as the couple’s eyes grew wide. They exchanged a shocked look before Luke turned to his friend with alarm.

“You’re right. This is an emergency!”

“I know!” Carolina screeched, crumbling into a nearby chair. “This has never happened to me! What am I supposed to do with this?”

Ruby sat at her friend’s side, resting a comforting hand atop her knee.

“ Carolina, I realize this is... soon... and it's a bit of a shock, but the man you adore is planning on proposing. You may not be ready, but this isn’t exactly a tragedy.”

“Well, that depends on how you define tragedy,” Luke injected.

“Honestly, it’s not even all that surprising,” Ruby stated, glowering in Luke’s direction.

“It’s not?” Carolina questioned. “We’ve been together three months, Ruby!”

“Sure. But if you kept up with the latest royal gossip like I do, you’d know that royals operate a much different playing field than us mere mortals. Engagements tend to happen pretty quickly in their world. Granted, most of them are arranged, but still.”

“Well, I’m not a royal!” Carolina huffed. “And I haven’t talked to my Uncle Tommy today, but I’m comfortable saying that he hasn’t been having late-night conversations with Viktoria and Maksim to discuss my dowry!”

Anxiety overwhelming her, she jumped to her feet, pacing the floor furiously before her friends.

“Who does this! Who goes and buys a ring... a very expensive ring, from TIFFANY’S, I might add...”

“Oh! It’s from Tiffany’s!” Ruby cooed.

“.... without even talking about it first! In the year of our lord 2024!” She motioned for Luke to get out of his seat. “I need to sit... I’m hyperventilating!”

Knowing better than to fight her, Luke acquiesced. “Carolina, you could always just tell him you found the ring and, you know, talk about it like grown-ups?”

The three friends turned toward the sound of an exasperated sigh and found Mafalda leaning against the frame of her office door. She crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of coffee before her beleaguered employee. “You need to calm down.”

“How much did you hear?” Caronlina asked wearily.

“All of it.”

“You heard all of it, and you’re telling me to calm down!”

“Yes. Get yourself together! You’ve faced down mobsters, cult killers, and murderous evil brothers; for fucks sake, you can handle coming face to face with a ring in Trystan's apartment!"

“She has a point,” Luke agreed.

“Mafalda, you’re the only expert on marriage present,” Ruby interjected. “What advice do you have?”

“Please,” Mafalda scoffed. “The only marriage I’m an expert on is my own.” She turned to Carolina, arms crossed and a look that was both comforting and commanding on her face. “I know you love Trystan, but have you given any thought to marrying him?”

“I mean... maybe a couple times... in passing. But I imagined it the future... the distant future... Even if marriage was important to me, in the three months I’ve known him, we’ve been busy chasing down those killers and murders you mentioned... never mind clearing Trystan's name and keeping him out of a Drakovian prison! When would I have had time to be thinking about... marriage?”

Mafalda screwed her eyes shut as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You need to talk to him. He needs to hear these things from you, not us. Look, some people have whirlwind courtships, get married, and go on to have a beautiful life together, but Carolina, a marriage takes two people, and if you’re not ready for it yet... that’s fine. But tell him that.”

“Yeah, it’s not like he’s going to up and leave you if you say you’re not ready,” Luke added.

Carolina turned to him, and for the first time today the anxious look in her eyes was replaced with one of fear. “How... how do you know that?”

“Because I have eyes,” he half-smiled. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re crazy about him. Just... go get your timelines straight.”

“He’s right,” Mafalda agreed. I always say that if people in a relationship are honest and love each other, they’ll get through anything.”

 Carolina gulped down the rest of her coffee, appearing more at ease than she had since this morning’s discovery. “You’re right. Now, do I tell him I found the ring and have this conversation with him now? Or wait until he proposes and say...no.”

“Offh! That’s a tough one,” Ruby jumped in. “You know Trystan... he’s go big or go home. If he’s proposing, I’m sure he has a flash mob planned.”

Carolina ran a hand down her face. "Thanks for that, Ruby," she groaned.

“You’ll have to make that call,” Maflada smiled, tossing a file Carolina’s way. “But you have some time to mull it over because, right now, you have a poodle to find.”

Part Two will be up later today. :)

@choicesficwriterscreations

[tigresslanzhu]

Ash is on your side!

[grimmjowjaegerjaquez]

will also say that all my thinking about bleach and thus also my old bleach ocs, i am rethinking ways to combine two of the stories i had for them (lorcan's story, and alice's story. like they both originally involved a certain bat lmfao) and now i am like. i mean it started as me just thinking "well this would be a good way to consolidate everything" and now i am thinking about shipping them together and i am losing my mind. how do i keep doing this to myself.

[neverendingford]

.

[amu-says-hav-says]

I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 

I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “...You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 

Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Now here me out… Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader x Theodore Nott jealous threesome, where they try to hog all the attention of the reader while visiting the Eiffel Tower (look it up)

Anonymous Flowers

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader x Theodore Nott!

Warnings: threesome, cussing, oral(male and female receiving), fingering

18+ Minors DNI!

Oh, honey, this Eiffel Tower is my absolute favorite. Doesn't it look great this time of year?

It wasn't a secret that both Mattheo and Theodore liked you. However, you didn't want to choose between them and they respected that. Mostly. They'd still shamelessly flirt with you. And try to win your affections with gifts and gestures. But they always reassured you that you didn't need to choose or make things awkward.

Things were going smoothly between all of you, no mean comments to each other, no signs of jealousy minus the occasional glare when the other touched you. 

Until you got anonymous flowers sent to your dorm and texted both of them about it to see if either of them sent it. After about 5 minutes, they both showed up at your dorm. Both knocking loudly.

You opened the door with an annoyed look at how loud they were being. “What?” You asked them loudly. They both pushed past you and into your dorm, looking at the flowers. “No, come in. Make yourselves at home.” You said sarcastically as you closed the door.

You could hear them arguing as you moved to sit back on your bed.

“I didn't send these.” Mattheo said.

“Stop fucking lying.” Theodore said back to him.

“I'm not lying! Why the fuck wouldn't I want her to know I sent them?” Mattheo was getting angry.

“I don't know! I don't know your fucking logic!” Theodore was getting just as angry.

“Guys!” You said loudly to get their attention and they both turned their heads to you. “Neither of you would send something anonymously like that, we figured that out so far, geniuses. That means someone else sent it.”

“Who in the hell would send flowers to my girl?” Mattheo said as he picked up the flowers and inspected them.

“Your girl? You know damn well she's not just yours.” Theo said, taking the flowers from him and inspecting them himself.

“Can you guys stop arguing? I'm not either of yours’ girl.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, you hear that, Theo?” Mattheo said as he looked over at you.

“She doesn't realize she's ours.” Theodore said as he looked at you too.

“Maybe it's time to show her who she belongs to.”

“I think she could use the reminder since she's getting flowers from some other dickhead.” Theodore said as he put the flowers down and they both walked over to where you were on the bed.

“What?” You asked as you kept looking between both of them.

“You're letting other guys give you attention, darling.” Mattheo said as he grabbed your chin and leaned in close to you.

“That's our job, principessa.” Theodore added, running a hand through your hair.

“It seems you need to learn that, though.” Mattheo trailed his hand to your cheek.

“Are you giving other guys attention? Trying to give other guys what's ours?” Theodore asked, moving his hand to the side of your neck.

Their touches were almost dizzying. “No.”

Theodore tsked. “I think she's lying.”

“It's fine. She won't be for long.” Mattheo gripped the back of your hair tightly and pulled your head back, kissing you suddenly. You gripped at his shirt in surprise.

“You can't just do that, Matt.” Theodore said, pushing Mattheo back from you.

“Oh, but she tastes so good.” Mattheo smiled wickedly at the other boy.

Theodore was close to saying something when you reached up and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss you. He groaned at your bold move as Mattheo moved to sit behind you on the bed, kissing at your neck. As much as both boys hated sharing you, they hated everyone else more than each other. They both worked together in getting you naked, Mattheo working on your blouse and Theodore made quick work of your skirt and panties.

He kneeled between your legs in front of the bed and started kissing and nipping at your inner thighs. Mattheo managed to get your blouse off and quickly got your bra off too, using his hands to tease your nipples. The boys each had a pretty good view of what the other was doing and it only seemed to spur them on more.

Theodore finally licked at your sweet cunt, groaning as you moaned above him, his eyes fighting to watch your face and Mattheo's hands on your boobs.

Mattheo was kissing and biting at your neck as he pinched and pulled at your nipples. He, too, was flicking his eyes between your breasts and Theo lapping at your pussy.

You were so busy feeling everything, you didn't really notice the tension between the two men at the moment. You were moaning and whimpering, one hand in Theodore's hair and the other on one of Mattheo's arms.

“Does that feel good, princess?” Mattheo asked behind you. “Am I making you feel good?”

“I'm making her feel better. And you taste fucking amazing, cara mia.” Theodore said, pushing two fingers inside you.

“Oh, god, you both are so good.” You moan, leaning your head back onto Mattheo's shoulder.

Mattheo groaned and you felt it against your back. “Let me fucking taste her.”

“Not until I got her cumming on my face.” Theodore said with a smug smirk.

“You think I'm letting you make her cum first?” Mattheo said and moved to pull you further onto the bed, completely away from Theodore. He laid you back on the pillows as he settled between your legs, attaching his mouth to your clit.

Theodore was seething, but climbed up next to you guys. He pushed Mattheo over slightly so he could slide his fingers back into you.

Your eyes rolled back as you now had Mattheo's mouth abusing your poor clit and Theodore's long fingers pumping in and out of you. “Holy fuck, shit.” You moaned, one hand flying to Mattheo's hair and the other to the sheets beside you, which Theodore saw and held your hand. He moved to kiss you for a moment before kissing and biting at your chest, his fingers never faulting. Mattheo groaned and reached a hand up to play with one of your nipples as he looked up at you between your thighs. You let out an involuntary moan at the sight and feel, already overwhelmed from his mouth and Theodore's fingers.

It was all too much and they had you cumming with a loud cry, trembling as your legs were trying to close on Mattheo's head. Mattheo relented once he noticed you relaxed a little and leaned up to kiss you again. Theodore removed his fingers too and rubbed your thighs soothingly. 

“You did so good for me, cara mia.” Theodore said.

Mattheo pulled back and glared at Theodore. “For you?” He scoffed "No, princess, you did perfect for me.” Mattheo said as he looked back at you.

“Let me feel your pussy wrapped around me.” Theodore said and brought his free hand to your cheek.

“That's not fair.” Mattheo snapped at Theo.

You touched his arm and said, “I have an idea.” They both looked at you now, ready to hear it. “One on each side. One of you gets my mouth, one gets my pussy. Then maybe switch if you want.” You say, cheeks burning at the suggestion.

The boys looked at each other for a moment.

“I want her pussy.” Theodore said.

“I'll get that pretty little mouth then.” Mattheo said as he looked at you with a smile. He helped you up onto all fours suddenly.

The boys wasted no time stripping, eager to get their hands back on you.

Theodore came up behind you, pressing soft kisses to your back before lining up at your entrance. As pushed into you and you both moaned. “ God, you feel heavenly, principessa.”

Mattheo was in front of you within seconds of that. He brushed your cheek softly for a second. “Open up, baby.” He said, interrupting the soft moment with his cock tapping your lips. You opened your mouth and he pushed in, timing his thrusts with Theodore.

“You talk like a dick.” Theodore said from behind you.

“Did that bother you, love?” Mattheo asked as he looked down at you. You moaned around his cock and he smiled, letting out a soft moan himself. “She said it’s fine.”

“She’s probably too fucked out on my dick to even pay attention to you.” Theodore said. “Isn’t that right, mi amore?” He asked you, giving you a light spank and you moaned loudly in reply around Mattheo’s dick.

“You keep moaning like that and I’m gonna cum down your throat, princess.” Mattheo said to you.

“So quick?” Theodore teased.

You really weren’t paying much attention to the conversation with the way Theodore was thrusting inside you and Mattheo was hitting the back of your throat.

“You would too if you felt her mouth.” Mattheo said, groaning when you gagged around him.

“My cock’s a bit busy stretching out her pussy right now.” Theodore said.

Your orgasm was building this whole time and the way Theodore suddenly angled his hips had his dick hitting that sweet spot in you, making you cum within seconds, trembling and moaning around Mattheo’s cock.

“That’s fucking it, principessa. Make a mess of my cock.” Theodore said as he helped ride out your high.

“Christ.” Mattheo muttered as he slowed his thrust to not overwhelm you.

“I got what I wanted, let me feel her mouth.” Theodore said, pulling out of you and helping you get your mouth off of Mattheo before flipping you over onto your back, moving you so your head was at the edge of the bed.

“You can’t fucking take her like that.” Mattheo said, but made no complaints about the new position.

“Please.” You whined from the loss of contact from either of them.

“I got you, mi amore.” Theodore said as he pushed into your mouth, the angle letting him hit a little deeper in your throat as you gagged and teared up.

“Don’t worry, princess.” Mattheo reassured as he settled between your legs and pushed in your puffy, sensitive cunt.

You were already so sensitive from your last orgasm and the boys were so close already as well from the last position. Both boys toyed with your breasts, praising you for taking their cocks so well. You came first, it only took seconds once Mattheo started playing with your clit.

“Fuck, angel. You feel fucking perfect.” Mattheo said with some strain right before he came inside you.

Theodore didn’t last much longer as you moaned and cried around his dick. “You’re so good for me, cara mia. So fucking good.” He said as he came down your throat.

The boys pulled out of you and both argued with each other as they fussed over cleaning you up.

Whatever problems this may cause was definitely not a concern in your head at the moment as you watched your two boys cleaning you up together.

[losersiren]

𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k 

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots. 

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.”  The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath. 

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.” 

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.” 

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough. 

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession. 

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable. 

 “Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that? 

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them. 

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.  

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires 

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that 

“Ambrose…” 

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.”  The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with. 

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.” 

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”  

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed. 

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh. 

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord. 

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible. 

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun  Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”  

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad. 

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

 “Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it. 

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to. 

 Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?  

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!! 

[messylustt]

We need more touchy & needy Hobie who has feelings for his friend (she's the prettiest girl in! the! world! and his eyes akhxsj) i can imagine him being that type who brags a lot about her too lol (but he's not with her.....yet, he's just crushing very hard)

my girl — hobie brown. longer name. your best friend, hobie, is a protective bastard.

you were laying back against the couch, busy glaring at the tv. hobie walked in, a slight tilt to his head as he moved towards you. “please don’t hit it.” you shift your gaze to hobie sighing. “it’s not the tv i’m pissed at. it’s him.” you gesture to the actor on tv. “i mean can he be any more oblivious?” hobie bites down on his lower lip chuckling at your furrowed brows. he jumps down into a seat beside you, fingers reaching to smooth out the wrinkles on your forehead. you swat his hand away, and his eyes narrow. “i’m only tryna help.”

“with what?” you give him a side glance. his fingers shift back to grab your chin. “just makin’ sure you don’ grow too old, too fast.” you narrow your gaze on him, scoffing at his ‘wrinkles equal old’ joke. “and here I thought you were into older woman.” hobie scoffs, shifting slightly closer to you on the couch, arm moving to rest behind you.

“not that old. i prefer the forty to fifty age range.” you jab his side with your elbow, making him chuckle, slightly doubling over. “what time is it?” you suddenly ask, seeming to just realise how dark it had gotten outside.

“‘bout eight.” he comments, his hand moving to fiddle “absentmindedly” with your shirt — arm having to move further around you to do it. “eight? shit, i should go.” you move to stand, but hobie pulls you back down by a now permanent arm around your shoulders. you slightly fall back into him, the back of your head hitting his chest, as you feel it rumble in a chuckle.

you grab his wrist, preparing to move his hand, but hobie just pulls you closer. “jus’ stay ‘ere tonight. i don’ mind.”

“i should be getting back to my own universe.” you say, trying and failing again to move his arm. “hobie.”

“nah they won’t miss you.” he says, hand now rubbing the material of your collar between his calloused fingers. “that was nicely put, hobie.” you sarcastically say, twisting so that you can see him, but his hold still doesn’t let up.

“mhm.” he hums, a wide grin on his face as he catches your gaze. “you’re being clingy…” you narrow your gaze. he feigns innocence. “am i?” he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you even closer, making your breathing hitch a fraction. you quickly place your hands on his chest, so that you physically couldn’t get any closer. “yes. and it’s…weird.”

“weird? and here i thought ya were a nice and accepting girl.” his teasing smile hasn’t left. your tongue pokes out against your cheek, as you push farther away from him, finally managing to stand. hobie holds back from grabbing you again, having liked having his friend that close. his…friend.

that’s all you were, or all you saw him as. he saw different. he liked sparing you touches, and disliked when you would inevitably leave his hands. yeah, he knows you need to protect your universe but sometimes he wishes he could be a bit more selfish with you.

;;

when you were in groups, say with pav, gwen, miles and peter. hobie would have an arm wrapped around your shoulder. or when you all would sit, he’d make sure you were sat beside him, tugging your suit closer if necessary. the others found it rather sweet, how whenever you couldn’t make a ‘hang out’ being on a mission or something alike, hobie would use the time to talk you up. saying things like “yeah, did ya see y/n the other day? one of the best swingers i know.”

“didn’t y/n win that one? yeah i think she did.” he’s always been there to brag about you, but when someone else found a place to compliment you — especially if it’s the guy whose been eyeing you — hobie would use the terms ‘ma girl this’ ‘ma girl that’. “ma girl could have done better.” and everyone would know who he was talking about.

so, maybe he did have a little crush on you, maybe he wanted to get the spiders who paid extra attention fired. and maybe he liked your entire attention only on him. to anyone new you two would seem together with how hobie talks about you, but no, you’re ‘just friends’.

;;

hobie grins when you walk into HQ, but a frown soon forms when he sees how battered up you look. rushing past the others he reaches your side, grabbing your chin. you slightly startle at his fast movements. “oh, just a hard mission. i’m fine.” but hobie doesn’t loosen his grip, actually slipping his large hand further around you as he forces you to sit.

“what happened?” gwen asks, all of them having moved towards you after hobie. “just a mission. i’m fine though.” you somewhat chuckle, trying to stand again. “sit down.” hobie states, leaving no room for argument as he inspects your face full of cuts, his frown not lifting.

“hobie.” you move to grab his hand, but he only tightens it. your brows slightly furrow at his clear concern. you weren’t that badly injured, nothing life threatening. but to hobie it was the prospect of it, it could have been life threatening. “let me come next time.” he says, catching your gaze.

“you don’t have to — ” but he cuts you off. “i’m coming next time.” he sounds more sure of himself, as he grabs you into a stance. bringing you to the medical room, even after your protests of ‘i’m fine’. it goes in one ear and out the other, hobie just sitting you down as he mends your cuts, waving off the medical spiders.

“i feel like i should be flattered.” you slightly chuckle, as he tilts your head how he wants. “yeah, you should be.” he says, dabbing at a cut on your lip. “look at all this attention i’m giving you.” you chuckle, mouth opening a fraction. hobie shifts closer to you on the medical bed, hand moving to hold part of your ear and hair as he makes sure he got every cut.

“what is with all this…attention anyway?” you ask, forcing him to meet your gaze. “we’re friends aren’t we?” he asks, still not removing his hand from your face. “yeah, but…you’re acting….” you drift off brows furrowing. hobie shifts his fingers to smooth the lines on your forehead. “remember: forty to fifty age range.”

you raise your brows. “then i’m in the clear.” hobie licks at his lip ring. “not quite.” he mutters. you tilt your head, as hobie’s fingers leave your face by drifting down your skin, stopping by the cut on your lip. you both freeze at the movement, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “does it hurt?” you shrug. “more of a sting.”

“hm.” hobie hums absentmindedly, his gaze caught up in the cut. at first even he doesn’t realise how close he’s moving. your eyes slightly widen, as you lose your breath.

hobie moves closer a small tilt to his head, as his breath then fans over your bottom lip — over your cut. and then before either of you can say a word more, hobie’s lips are slowly wrapping around your lower lip, his tongue poking out to brush right along your cut, soothing the wound with his spit.

his hand has moved to your hair, a tighter grip accompanying. he draws back a fraction, your bottom lip now wet. hobie can’t help as his tongue comes back out to soothe at your cut again, dragging all the way across your lower lip, and stopping when he’s hovering over your entire mouth, tongue so close to slipping in. you feel lightheaded, as your grip has moved to his jacket, but hobie seems in a daze of his own.

“i jus’…it looked…” and he swiftly pulls you closer, hand now weaved completely into your hair as he slips his tongue into your mouth, lips connecting with yours as his head tilts for better access. “yeah…jus’ looked sore…” he pushes harder against your mouth, his hand slipping to grab your waist. ‘friends’ can now officially be used loosely, as hobie’s eager mouth takes ownership of yours.

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