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#and again I personally never want to be one! so don’t try to come at me acting like I’m some tradwife or something
foxy-eva · 3 days
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Date? Date!
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Summary: Reader asks Spencer if he wants a date (the food item). Miscommunication ensues. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: food mentions, miscommunication, awkwardness 
Word count: 700
Masterlist
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Early into your career at the FBI you learned how important it was to take good care of yourself. Long and irregular work hours made it difficult to nourish your body, so you made it a habit to always pack some healthy snacks.
Recently you discovered your love for dates - a fruit packed with fiber and potassium while satiating your sweet tooth. 
You grabbed a small container from your bag while your eyes landed on your favorite coworker. Months ago you noticed that his main source of energy was coffee and refined sugar, so without thinking too much about it, you decided to offer him an alternative. 
“Date?” You asked once Spencer found your eyes. 
“Wh…what?” He muttered. “You’re asking me… just like that?” 
His reaction was a little confusing but it wasn't the first time that the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid left you a bit puzzled. 
"Yeah, of course! I think it’ll be good for you!” You chirped to encourage him. 
“You think?” His mouth stayed agape after those words made it past his lips. 
You raised your eyebrows at him and withdrew your offer, “You obviously don’t have to. You can just say no.”
“No, no, it’s not that! I just.. I have never been… I mean… I have never really… had a date?” He muttered.
“Really? That's hard to believe.” You couldn't hide the surprised tone in your voice. Dates were pretty popular, you had never met anyone who hadn’t tried one.
“It’s true…,” he mumbled.  
“Maybe it’s time for you to try it!” 
"I... have thought about it. A lot actually." Spencer whispered while his eyes dropped to the floor. "With you specifically"
At this point you definitely couldn't hide your confusion anymore. You took one date out of the plastic container to look at it before you said, "You have thought about eating dates with me?" 
When your eyes met his again you noticed the color draining from his face. The already pale doctor suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost. 
“You uhm… you… of course… you were talking about dates,” he stammered.
“Yes? What were you tal–” You stopped mid sentence when you realized. 
Oh.
Oh.
Spencer must have thought you were asking him out. 
Now his reaction made a lot more sense. 
Before you could say anything, Spencer quickly got up to leave the room. You could only imagine how embarrassed he must have been right then. Your heart began aching at the thought of hurting the person you cared so deeply about. 
The truth was that you were hoping for him to ask you out for months now. It was hard to tell if he actually liked you too, so you never had the courage to ask him yourself. 
It seemed like the cat was out of the bag now and it was your chance to finally ask him out for real. 
“Spencer!” You called out his name as you ran after him. “Wait, please!”
To your surprise he slowed down, coming to a halt right before he reached the elevators. 
“I just want to go catch some air,” he explained with a fake smile on his face. 
“Please don’t be embarrassed,” you said with a soft voice. “It was just a little misunderstanding.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s fine, really!” He lied while pressing the button of the elevators. 
“It’s true that I was just offering you a date, but…” you paused for a moment, noticing his eyes getting bigger. 
You almost got lost in the warm amber that were his irises. It was hard to actually speak the words you so clearly wanted to say. But you knew it was now or never. 
“... But I would really like to go out with you. On an actual date,” you confessed. 
The features of Spencer's face suddenly softened and it seemed like relief washed over him. 
“You do?” He wanted to make sure. 
“Yeah, I really do,” you confirmed.
A wide smile appeared on his face. “I would really like that, too. Maybe we could go out for dinner someday.”
“Dinner sounds a lot better than just eating dates together,” you laughed. 
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani
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worldlxvlys · 2 days
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I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)
yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk
Anyways that's all 💋
we can’t be friends
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chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing
a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt
i hope you enjoy
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i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.
of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.
for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.
i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.
but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.
i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?
so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.
i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.
sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.
i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.
i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.
i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.
we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.
“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.
his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.
“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.
“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”
“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.
“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.
“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”
he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.
“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”
“i just can’t be friends with you”
“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.
“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”
“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.
“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”
“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.
“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.
“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.
my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.
“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.
i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”
he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.
i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”
he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.
the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.
“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”
“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”
chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.
“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.
one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.
he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.
this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.
but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.
“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.
“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.
he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.
i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.
i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.
“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.
he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.
he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.
“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.
“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.
he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.
his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.
he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.
“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.
“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.
“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.
i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.
chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.
“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.
“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.
“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.
“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.
finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.
he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.
my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.
the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.
the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.
my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.
there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.
he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.
he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.
“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.
“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.
“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.
“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.
“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.
“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.
“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.
“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.
“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.
“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.
“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.
“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.
the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.
“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.
“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.
“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.
“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”
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wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭
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tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
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doing grocery shopping with the batboys
Could you write something fun and fluff please?
is one of my favorite activities.
I love what you write so much. My favorites are Dickie bird and Jay bird.
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Don’t know whether this is fun or fluff as you’d wanted it (kinda went on a personal rant in Jason’s a little bit but I don’t regret it) but I still hope you enjoy it not the less. Also thank you for enjoying my Jason/ Dick stuff! 🫶🦦🐿️
Dick:
You go in for certain things that you need and come out with way more then you probably should. (And most of it isn’t what you actually needed)
Half of the stuff you get is mainly what Dick thinks Hayley might like and she ends up only liking 50% of it…the ‘daddy’s little girl’ doggy shirt was pushing it tbh.
Dick tends to wander off when your shopping together that when you went to ask him a question, only to notice that he was gone, you sigh and say;
‘Dick?’
A few isles over you heard a faint ‘yes honey?’
He was in the pet section. again.
You’d have to remind him that you were only there for specific things and nothing else, but Dick would always try to persuade you into allowing him to get something was wasn’t on the list at all, by battering his eyelids at you and saying ‘pretty please.’
You naturally can’t say no to you pretty boy who acts like a man child when shopping, especially if you’re the one who’s paying.
The shopping list you made might as well have been thrown in the bin with how often you come home, only to be reminded that you barely got 25% of the stuff on the shopping list thanks to Dick’s impulsiveness.
However Dick would only use this as an excuse to go shopping again later on in the week/month and do it all over again without remorse.
Also Dick is way too polite to tell people blocking the isle to move, he wants to, he really does but all he does is breathe in deeply and plaster on a smile before soldering on.
Jason:
Grocery shopping wasn’t a favourite of Jason’s but if he were to do it, he’d rather do it with you because he got to be a little goofy with it.
And by that I mean him getting a little affectionate and pinching your backside and you snacking his bicep and scolding him for being inappropriate in the frozen food section.
‘I’m not doing anything chipmunk.’ He’d defend himself as you glare him.
‘I’m sure as shit there isn’t a perverted ghost here that pinches people’s backsides for fun. Now pack it in.’ You hissed as you rubbed your ass in hopes of soothing the sharp pain you felt seconds ago.
‘Sorry sweetheart.’ He’d chuckle as he kisses your cheek in apology.
You couldn’t help but smile as you could never truly stay mad at your sweet Jason, not unless he was staining your carpets with blood from a night out on patrol, but that was neither here nor there.
Other than that Jason would take the trolley from your hand and storm the store with a determination to get the fuck out as fast as possible.
His long ass strides tend to leave you behind in some random isle somewhere. So to combat this from being a reoccurring thing, Jason would just grabs your hand and puts on the trolley before putting his own on top; Now you were being dragged instead of getting left behind in somewhere with people blocking the fucking isle.
How sweet of him.
(If you’re one of these ppl, go fuck yourself bc what the fuck is so interesting that you have to block the ENTIRE FUCKING ISLE? MOVE!)
Speaking of people blocking the isle, it’s Jason’s biggest pet peeve because WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY TAKING SO MUCH FUCKING SPACE?! FUCKING MOVE YOU LAZY BASTARDS!
He will fucking glare at anyone who even dares to lean over his trolley to get something and when you tell him about how obvious he was being, he’d only response to this was: ‘they’re privileged with the use of a voice, they should fucking use it sometime.’
You’re basically there to calm him down before he bulldozes some poor bastard by guiding him to a lesser crowed isle and get some junk food for later as a reward, followed by your magical cuddles and kisses.
Jason hates shopping but with you it was made just that little bit enduring, only a little bit…he still wants to fight the young couple who wouldn’t fucking move in that one isle and honestly you don’t blame him as you would gladly join him.
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fyorina · 1 day
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ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.
(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!
He calls you sometimes.
Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him. 
The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection. 
The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway. 
The next call came another three days after that. 
You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it. 
Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time. 
It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead. 
He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?” 
You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours. 
It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly. 
Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai. 
Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing. 
You don’t tell anyone. 
If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.
You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.
“Hey,” you whisper.
Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier. 
He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….
“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”
Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state. 
Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves. 
But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that. 
“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”
You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him. 
You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.
You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.
But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.
“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“
The line goes dead. 
The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep. 
But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind. 
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Dazai shouldn’t be doing this. 
His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia. 
Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore. 
He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.
If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment. 
“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“
“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.
“Dazai-“ Ango begins.
“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile. 
You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head. 
He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.
His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions. 
“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”
Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living. 
He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time. 
Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you. 
He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you. 
You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.
Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone. 
He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.
“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.” 
Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.
Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.
But if he’s right… 
Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.
Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.
Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised. 
And then he waits. 
The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay. 
Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone. 
And then you do. 
He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.
But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger. 
Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.
“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.
Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been. 
Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.
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Text
wrong number
'you get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. come to find out, he's from another decade.’
eddie munson x reader/ eddie munson x gn!reader
warning(s): cursing, au (not sure if it would be considered an au but imma put it), mention of modern time. I'm just putting tags I'm not even sure what to tag this under. lmk if there are more.
a/n: prompt # 4 from the strangerprompts by @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing and @bettyfrommars. mkay, I've never done these types of things or participated before, but yknow, I took a shot and I liked it lol so thank you guys!
"What?"
Your voice was nothing short of clipped. The results of hearing your phone vibrate too many times for you to tolerate another call going unanswered.
It was abnormal in your opinion. To receive this many calls from the same number within a short time.
While sure, you occasionally complained about the lack of service that came through the device due to your inability to actually hold a relationship with anybody, much less a conversation, this isn't what you were looking for.
And if your shortness wasn't clear enough before, your annoyance must've been by the way you questioned a 'hello,' with a lifted brow. Not really saying it as one should when normally speaking to someone. That was, if anyone was even on the other side.
"Uh, hello." The voice imitated your previous tone, pulling out the last vowel as he sung it.
He.
If you had to guess, probably no more than your age.
"Huh, so you can speak? You know you could've begun with that? When someone picks up the phone after being called, who knows how many times," you state through your teeth, "the least you could do is have the decency to actually say something when they answer."
"Y’know I don’t like your tone, we’re going to try this again.” He mouthed.
“Wait, what? No-”
He hung up before you could refuse. Your phone pulled away from your ear as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. And in the midst of that, your phone vibrated, again.
Your finger hovered over the button as you eyed the device, sliding it over when you’d been staring long enough.
“Hello?” You questioned, unsure. The shift in your tone is clearly obvious.
“You learn quickly.”
The same voice replied back, and his response had you narrowing your eyes.
Asshole.
“I had said it before. You were the one who needed the lesson in how to answer back.” You reiterate.
“Well, m’not about to respond to somebody who starts a conversation with 'what.' I mean, have you no manners?" The guy said. You could hear the lilt in his voice and how he seemed to be grinning on the other side, but you had to shake your head from thinking any further on it because there was still a question that you'd been meaning to ask.
"Who are you?"
"It's your conscience, clearly I haven't been able to get through to you which is why you're probably lacking, well, manners, but- worry not, for I am here."
You weren't sure if it was you still trying to comprehend everything that's happened in the last few minutes, or that this guy knew how to pull conversation so easily that you went along with it- but you hadn't even realized he never properly answered or that he just lowkey called you out on something you knew was evident to a blind person.
And you didn't even correct him, and rather than just hang up on someone you didn't know, you stayed on the phone and chose to enlighten him.
"Hm, so that's what that was? Who would've thought I'd have one of those," you sighed and shrugged, leaning back against the bed frame. You could hear him snort at the small insult you'd given yourself, hearing the feign in your voice was enough to let him know your humor was in tack.
It made you grin. The first of many, and the first in a while to tell the truth. You also couldn't stop yourself from thinking about how this was probably the longest conversation you've ever held with someone.
"I'm Eddie." His voice pulled you from your thoughts, trying to catch up in the moments you'd been away.
"Huh?"
You could hear chuckling before it was repeated. "My name. You asked me who I was."
Eddie.
It didn't sound familiar. You didn't know anyone named Eddie, but then again, you didn't really know anyone and you had questioned it when you guy's began talking. It was a number you'd never seen before either so there was that.
You hadn't realized you'd been quiet until Eddie spoke.
"Y'know, this is where you tell me your name." He remarked. "We really gotta work on your communication skills and social cues." Unbeknownst to you though, since you only just met the guy, he shouldn't be one to talk.
You let out something between a scoff and a breathy chuckle before telling him yours. And Eddie repeated what you did moments ago- saying your name under his breath, to himself- as if he was worried he'd forget it in those few seconds.
It was easy to get into conversation with him, primarily because he kept pulling you into things he’d knew would get a response out of you. Like saying shit that you’d end up reprimanding him for because it annoyed you.
He knew that, and you weren’t so sure you liked how transparent you seemed to be. You’d known him for only a short time and he already knew how to push your buttons. Which you told him but his response was anything but what you expected it to be. He simply shrugged it off, telling you that ‘you let it get to you.’
To which you rebutted fully knowing he was right, which annoyed you more. Though other than that, the conversation between you two had been decent.
There were a few times when you had been confused by what he’d been speaking about, but you just assumed it was the way he was. I mean, the guy spent- you’re guessing- most of his time today calling the wrong number, only to hang up on you just to call you again because he didn’t like your tone. And then went on to call you out on your shit, which by the way, you still haven’t let go of. Either way, you just thought that what he was talking about, was how he spoke. A sort of slang, you know? I mean, now, that’s all people use these days.
Who were you to question it? It’s not like you could ask anybody what it meant. You weren’t even sure what the words were yourself. I mean you did but nobody said that sort of thing anymore.
There were a few moments of silence that occurred, mainly between your guys' turns in speaking. It wasn’t until you heard him on his end that you asked what he’d been up to. He kept muttering something under breath.
Well, it was more him humming, every other minute or so though you’d hear a word, and the more he hummed- the more familiar it sounded.
“Is that…..Metallica?” You peeked, unsure if you were right. His side went quiet the second you said it, and you could assume it was because you were likely wrong in your guess.
“Y-You know Metallica?” Eddie enounced. He was standing upright, his previous stance of leaning on the frame gone, as he stood there with wide eyes and mouth agape at your sudden query.
So you were right.
“Uh, yes.” It came out sounding like a question rather than you stating the obvious. “My Uncle used to listen to them. Whenever he came over when I was younger, that was all I’d ever hear. He’d tell us he grew up on them, so it was only right that we did too.” You explained. Eddie’s mouth stretched up at hearing your words, too caught up in the story to comprehend what you just said.
“I’ve never-” and then it hit him. His brows pinched together as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Did he hear you right?  “Wait…grew up on them?” If it hadn’t been for the way you told the story, as if it actually happened, he would’ve thought you were pulling his leg. And you probably were so he just reacted logically. He chuckled. “Mkay, right right.” 
It was your turn to pinch your face together, not understanding his sudden shift or why he was chuckling to begin with. “What? It’s true. The man grew up on them.” You raised, still clearly confused by his response.
“Mhm, sure.” You could hear the way he pulled the word, like he wasn’t convinced at all. Why was it so hard for him to get that what you were saying was true? “He’d have to be my age, kid.” He voiced.
W-What? 
“Excuse me?” You uttered, sitting up from your bed frame. Not only were you confused but you were getting a little freaked out. He sounded young, your age, give or take. There was no way you had been conversing with a guy in his 50’s.
“You heard me, he’d have to be my age. There’s no way this guy grew up on them. The band isn’t even that old, it hasn’t been that long. I mean, I get we were joking before but man, you really got me there. I almost fell for it!” Eddie said. “How old are you?” He managed through his breathy laughs.
You could feel your heart pick up, the genuineness clear in his voice. He really thought you were joking, that everything you just said in the last few minutes was made up. But it hadn’t been and that’s what had you getting up from your bed. This was beginning to be too much for you.
“E-Eddie, what are you talking about? You’re freaking me out.”
And suddenly it wasn’t so amusing anymore. His face fell upon hearing your tone. The humor he once found in the situation, now gone, as he stared ahead. You sounded worried, alarmed even. It was quiet for a few seconds until he spoke, his tongue swiped his bottom lip before he did so.
“Uhm, look t-this isn’t-” his hand wiped down his face. “W-What are you talking about, man? One minute we're laughing and joking around and the next you’re telling me about your Uncle growing up on Metallica. There’s no way! Mkay?” He was getting agitated, visibly shaken up as he thought about you on the other side in the same state. “Like I said, the band isn’t even that old. It's only been a couple of years, it’s 1986 for christ sake!” And though he had been saying it all so fast, you still understood them. It’s why you felt yourself unable to move upon hearing his last few words.
1986. 
The numbers repeated over and over in your head as you stood there. 
“W-What?” You stuttered, voice shaky as you asked. It wasn’t possible. “It’s not!” You raise, your hands moving with a mind of their own as you swiped out of where you were and looked at the screen. In the corner of your phone, the current date stared back. The time you were currently in. As in, right now. You could hear Eddie speaking but because you didn’t have it against your ear, you couldn’t tell what exactly he’d been saying.
It’s not possible, it's not possible, it’s not.
He said it like it was true. He didn't just think it was 86', he was saying it like he knew it was. It was just impossible, the year he said, wasn’t the year you were in.
You lifted the phone back up to your ear, hands unable to keep still as you look ahead. Your eyes glassy as you spoke.
“Who are you?”
Eddie’s breath picked up at the way you questioned it, your voice at a whisper. He ran his hand through his hair again, already disheveled from how many times he’d done it prior to when you went quiet.
“I told you. My name is Eddie....and it's 1986."
Your eyes shut as he uttered his name, the lack of deceit evident.
a/n: I wasn't sure how to end it.
feedback and reblogs are appreciated.
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peachhcs · 18 hours
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congrats em!!!
person A going out with person B for the first time in public to announce their relationship
perosn a- reader
perosn b -jack hughes
showing you off
jack hughes x fem!reader
you and jack finally make your relationship public!
1.4k words
i've never written for jack before, so i hope this is good 🫣 thank you again for sending in requests for the celly. i'm so excited to write about other hockey players!!
700 celly masterlist
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you stood in front of the mirror doing last minute touches on your look. there was an edge of nerves running through your system knowing this was a big night for your relationship with jack. after agreeing to keep things private for the few months you two have been together, you decided you were ready to make things public. poor jack was more nervous than you were knowing how people online got.he worried the comments of other fans getting to you even though you told him countless times you could handle it. a few mean comments meant nothing to you knowing jack chose you. 
“i think i’m almost ready jacky,” you called to your boyfriend when you heard him shuffle into the room. his head poked into the connected bathroom, a smile gracing his lips when he saw your pretty baby blue dress. 
“jesus, you look incredible,” the brunette hummed, eyes racking across your body that the dress hugged in all the right places. you flushed at his comment, spinning to face him. 
“you think so?” 
he stepped further into the bathroom, hands snaking around your waist just low enough that his hands grazed the top of your ass. a lazy smiled painted his lips as he continued drinking in your appearance. 
“can’t wait to let everyone know you’re mine tonight,” the boy pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to your lips. 
you smiled into the kiss, squeezing his chin between your fingers as his hands drifted lower. a giggle left your lips at his boyish behavior, pulling him off your lips which was instantly met with a pout that you pulled him off. 
“we better go, soon, yeah? don’t wanna be late,” you tapped your fingers against his cheek. 
“you’re 100% sure you’re ready? i don’t want it to be too much too soon. there’s probably gonna be cameras everywhere and people shouting questions,” jack knew events like these had reporters and journalists everywhere trying to catch glimpses of their lives. he didn’t want to bring you into all of it unless he knew you could take it. 
“i’m sure, baby. i’ve got thick skin,” you smiled. 
“i know you do, but sometimes those people can be real assholes,” jack’s worry was cute. you cupped his cheeks, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead. 
“at least i’ll have you with me then,” your confidence eased some of jack’s worries. he kissed you one last time before dragging the both of you out of the bedroom. 
“about time. thought i’d have to bang on the door or something,” luke snickered, jumping up from his place on the couch. 
“real funny, luke. let’s go or else we’re late,” jack grabbed everyone’s jackets, his antsy side coming out as he rushed his brother and girlfriend out of the apartment. 
the ride into downtown was uneventful. jack’s aux music helped ease some of your nerves as his car approached the venue which was indeed packed with people already at the front. you found yourself squeezing jack’s hand rested atop your knee a bit tighter seeing all those people feet away. jack quickly met your gaze. 
“feeling okay?” the boy wondered. 
“i’m fine. just nervous,” you said. 
“we can go in through the back if you don’t wanna do this. that’s perfectly fine with me,” jack gave you a quick ultimatum, but you shook your head. 
“it will be fine, jacky. promise,” he studied your expression a bit longer before deciding that you were gonna be okay. 
he pulled his car into the line, allowing the valet to take his keys as the three of you climbed out. jack met you on your side, holding his arm out for you to latch onto. your hands squeezed around his bicep as he took the lead, luke trailing behind you guys. the fans and reporters spotted the three of you immediately, quickly shouting to get your attention. 
“jack! is that your girlfriend?” 
“oh my god, he has a girlfriend??” 
“over here! let me get a picture!” 
the two of you posed for some pictures, jack’s hold tightening around your waist as the photographers snapped away, marking the public debut of your relationship. you weren’t sure how your boyfriend was feeling, but you felt in the clouds. so many people were reaching out for you or jack, wanting his signature or to just talk to him for a few seconds. sometimes you forgot this was his life—so flashy, so surreal—yet you loved it. 
he began pulling you down to carpet where security held the doors open for the guys. you waved to the fans one last time before disappearing inside the arena. jack glanced over at you, his expression a bit unreadable. 
“okay?” he wondered almost nervously. your large smile immediately eased his worries though as you latched back onto his arm. 
“god, you’re so cool. i knew you were popular, but i didn’t realize how popular,” your laugh brought a smile to the boy’s lips. 
“i’m glad you approve. it seems like everyone else does, too,” jack pecked your lips before dragging your further into the event to find his friends. 
the two of you quickly found nico and holtzy. both guys smiled widely when they saw their teammate and his girl on his arms. you smiled, watching jack greet them with friendly hugs. “didn’t know you were bringing your girl out,” nico hummed, giving you a gentle hug once jack finished. 
“thought it was time we go public,” jack pulled you back into his side, a proud smile on his lips that people finally knew about the girl he’s been loving for months. 
“wow, didn’t know hughes could become so lovey,” holtz teased, roughing up jack’s arm. your boyfriend brushed the comments off despite the small blush coating his cheeks. 
“whatever. you guys want some drinks? first round’s on me,” the brunette smiled. the guys cheered as they followed your boyfriend to the bar, ordering the entire team the first round of shots. 
you spent the rest of the night clinging to jack’s side, but neither of you minded. his arm was hooked around your waist no matter what, not letting you move too far away from him. you could tell he was enjoying himself knowing the big smile on his lips didn’t come out often unless he was around you or his teammates. jack adored all of them, even when they chirped on him, and he couldn’t be happier getting to spend the night with you too. 
even if you were just eye candy on jack’s arm, you didn’t care. getting to spend time with your boyfriend in his element was your favorite thing. 
as the night winded down, photos from earlier were released on social media. you peaked over jack’s shoulder as he scrolled through the pictures, smiling when he came across the ones of you two. there were a few of both of you smiling and one where jack’s eyes were on you when you weren’t looking. there was a lot of love in his eyes that made your heart just burst. 
“who knew we cleaned up so nice,” you teased. jack looked over at you, eyes bright. 
“so you think it went okay then?” 
“i think they liked me. do you think it went okay?” you wondered, brushing some of his hair away from his forehead. 
“i think it went amazing. i’m glad you came out tonight, it was a lot of fun,” jack leaned over, kissing your cheek. 
“thanks for bringing me, handsome. i hope i can come along again,” with that, the hockey player placed a more passionate kiss on your lips. your fingers tangled into his hair, twisting the locks around while his own hand cupped the side of your cheek. 
neither of you cared that you were in public. the booth you sat in tucked you guys away into a corner that almost created your own space away from everyone else. jack deepened the kiss even more as he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, but the moment was short lived. 
“jesus, you guys are so gross. can we leave soon?” luke stood at the end of the table in disgust. 
he was such a little brother with his snarky comments. you giggled, but jack didn’t find his brother as amusing. 
“hold your horses. we’ve got all night,” jack said. 
the younger boy only rolled his eyes, shuffling away like a little kid. jack’s attention turned back to you, eyes still bright with love and lust. 
“now, where were we?” 
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masonreds · 2 days
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mason mount x reader
Summary: Y/N distances herself from Mason thinking that it would help her feelings.
word count: 3,7k words
notes: sorry if this is a bit too dramatic for you’re liking 👀 also take a shot for everytime y/n says sorry 😂😂 I’ve also not posted in a while so please leave feedback if you can, it will be appreciated 💞
This isn't how you expected tonight to go.
Here you were, in the bathroom locked away from the fun downsatairs, away from your own birthday party. You just couldn't handle it anymore.
You couldn't handle your feelings for him anymore. You hated being friends when deep down you know you knew what you wanted and the possibility of him turning you down, rejecting you just thinking about it made you an anxious mess.
You couldn't keep this up anymore. You wanted more.
The knocking on the bathroom door made you snap back into reality, and you already knew who it was without them even talking.
You just knew it was Mason.
The person who'd you been trying to avoid for the rest of the night.
'Last I checked, the afterparty hasn't been moved to the bathroom.'
'I'll just be a minute!' You say, trying to sound normal enough.
'What's wrong?' Apparently not.
'What do you mean? I'm just freshening up a bit.'
'What's bothering you?'
'i don't know what you mean,' you try to laugh it off , but the pressure in your chest becomes a little too tight and it comes out as a more gasping noise than a light chuckle. You clear your throat. 'i told you, I'll be out in a minute. It's getting late, everybody else has probably gone, you can go too. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?'
Mason just ignores what you said. 'You would've at least made five sarcastic comments in the last two minutes if everything was fine. You forget how i can read you like a book.' He pauses. 'And you certainly wouldn't be hiding away from your own birthday party for most of the night. Especially when you always refuse to let me leave without helping you clean up.'
Shit
'Mase, i told you, I'm -'
'Cut the bullshit, Y/N.' He told you sternly, before continuing, 'I watched you blow out the candles. I saw that look you made after you made your wish, and you looked up at me for a split second. And that look you had on your face, as if you were going to start crying right there and then. You masked it quickly, but I saw it. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I didn’t see it.’
‘I don’t know what you’re-’
‘Yes you do,’ he interjects. ‘Because right about an hour ago I’m handing you a drink and the next thing I know, I see your face crumple like that again. And-’ he takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘And it fucking broke my heart.’
You stood there, stunned.
‘So, are you going to tell me what I did wrong?’ He asks.
‘You didn’t do-’
‘Because you’re my best friend,’ he reminds you. ‘And I feel like I have a right to know what I did that made you make that face.’
There’s a beat of silence, and he says, in a lower tone than before. ‘Because I would do anything to make sure I never see it again. It breaks my heart seeing you like that.’
Stood still, your gaze is fixed at the door speed the two of you.
‘Y/N.’ He calls out, sounding more desperate than you ever thought him capable of being.
And that does it. The tears you’ve been desperately holding back through every conversation with him you had, not only tonight, but since the day you realised that you were in love with him. You’ve reached the point where there was no return, and the person you want to run to the most is also the one you couldn’t possible bare to see you in this state.
The stretch of silence following your name from his lips feels endless. You feel like you’ve been standing in front of the door, with your face painfully scrunched in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling, for an eternity. That is until it’s broken by your shuddering gasp for air.
‘Y/N.’ He says again. Only this time his voice has shifted, even thought the distance hasn’t changed, you can feel his voice everywhere now. It has penetrated the walls and filled every corner of the room. You realise this is the first time he’s seen you cry.
Well, no. He still can’t see you.
He can only hear you, which means there’s still time to fix things going from bad to worse.
‘C’mon princess, don’t cry sweetheart,’ he beckons. ‘Please. Just come out and we’ll fix whatever’s happening. I swear.’
Those nicknames, which he sometimes throws around fondly and always makes your chest tighten in joy every time you hear them. It feels worse now. It feels torturous and cruel to hear him casually call you things you wished he truly meant.
And that only makes you cry harder.
Oh how you wish things were different, and how you wished you were destined to be with him.
‘I-I’m begging you,’ his voice sounds strained, and you feel guilty for putting him in such an uncomfortable situation.
‘I’m fine,’ you manage. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be okay in a sec.’
‘But you never cry,’ he says. Which was true, you never let him saw you raw emotions. You wanted him to think that you were fine and that you could handle it, until you couldn’t anymore.
‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper.
‘Stop apologising,’ he says firmly. ‘Now, can you please come out?’
‘I can’t.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘Because,’ you squeeze your eyes shut as more tears spill over. ‘You can’t see me like this. I don’t want it to change our friendship.’
‘Well what if I want it to?’ He counters.
‘What?!!’
‘What if I want it to affect our friendship?’ He sighs. ‘What if I want you to think you can come to me when you’re upset? Do you really think I’d push you away when you’re like this?’
You can’t get any words out. All you can do is let out a pathetic sob at the kindness of his words.
At my crying he stammers, ‘I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? I just meant-’
‘No!!’
‘No?’ He questions.
‘No,’ you can’t help but smile a little.
‘Well, look, I’m not going to force you to come out,’ he says. ‘If you truly want to be alone, I get that, and I’ll leave and you can come out whenever you’re ready.’
Good.
I think I can work with that - you thought.
‘But if the only reason you’re not coming out is because you’re afraid of how I’m going to react, then I’m the one who fucked up for making you think that you always need to be in a good mood around me,’ his voice softens. ‘I’ll leave you alone if you want, but please don’t try to push me away.’
Damn.
You almost left out a huff of laughter, because you know that no matter what you promised yourself, he always weakens your resolve. And it’s at this moment where you realise just how exhausted you are - how nearly two years of suppressing your feelings have been slowly eating away at you. And the weight of your misery becomes unbearable, and all you want is to leave the terrible ache in your chest behind.
More tears come running down your cheek, that you couldn’t seem to stop. You don’t bother wiping them away as you stare at yourself into the mirror. You see the hollowness of your eyes, the way you look pale in the dim bathroom light, and you know you can hardly handle the weight of your secret for much longer. Giving yourself an almost nod of understanding before reaching the door handle, unlocking the door and throwing common sense out of the window.
‘Princess?’ He asks. Your chest tightens at the sound of that stupid nickname again. It started off as a joke, Mason teasing you after you shared your love of fantasy books and fairy tales with him. And it stuck around, quickly becoming Mason’s favourite way to make you flustered while you always shoot him with an annoyed glare. You always told him you hated it, but after a while you began to carry it with a sense of pride. As much as it pained you to know he was only joking, it always made your heart contract in a way he was only capable of causing.
‘Promise me one thing?’ Your voice is unsteady from all the crying you’ve been doing.
‘Anything.’
‘Shut your eyes, will you?’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Not to brag or anything but I’m certain I’m one of the most ugliest criers out there. And I’m not sure if I can stand you see me like that,’ you do your best to joke. ‘Just for now, at least.’
‘You don’t realise how silly you sound, do you? But if that’s what makes you come out, then yeah sure.’ He says.
And with that, you pull the door handle down so you can open the door.
Mason’s perched at the very end of your bed, his hands resting on his lap. He’s facing you, and you’re relieved to see that his dud are still shut, as promised. You stand there for what feels like an endless amount of time, too stunned to move. But slowly, his hands move from his lap and palms his face up, beckoning you over.
It’s all the cue you need, and you step forward, placing your hands on his forearms, your grip is still shaky. Whilst his eyes are still closed, he engulfs you into a hug. You have hugged Mason plenty of times, more than you can count, but never with you crying into his arms. One hand rubs your back while the other gently caresses your hair, but the tenderness and kindness he’s showing only makes you cry harder.
‘Can I open my eyes?’ He murmurs. All you can manage is a quick nod against his chest. He tries to pull back from the hug so he can face you, but you figure that he cant see your tear stained face if it’s buried in his hoodie, so you remain firmly planted in the hug.
A few moments pass like this, both pressed impossibly close to each other and you can feel your heart rate begin to calm as your tears slowly subside. The exhaustion has saturated your body as you feel as though you can fall asleep on his chest before you heard him speak.
‘You’ll tell me what I did wrong, won’t you?’
‘I want to, but I can’t,’ you tell him.
‘Why?’ He doesn’t sound annoyed, his voice has a playful tone to it with a twinge of worry.
‘Because-’ you whisper. ‘Because you’ll hate me.’
‘Impossible,’ he says. ‘You’re one of my best friends, I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.’
‘As much as I want to tell you why I gave you that look tonight,’ your voice is slightly muffled with your face buried in his hoodie. ‘I know it will ruin our friendship and I don’t think I can bare losing you.’
‘You’re not making any sense. I thought I was the one who upset you,’ he manages to pull away, untangling my arms from around his neck. He slowly rises from his perch, towering above me as he rests his hand on my shoulders. You can’t look at him though, so you lock your gaze onto the floor. ‘Seriously, Y/N, you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, but you’re starting to scare me.’ His confession makes your heart ache impossibly.
He brings his hand underneath your chin and slowly guides your face up to meet his. A few more tears escape your swollen eyelids, and he gently brushes them away. ‘I want to tell you,’ you avert your gaze, not being able to stand the intensity of his eyes on yours. ‘But I know how it’ll end. And I know you’ll resent me for it.’
‘Please don’t say that,’ he tries to meet your eyes. ‘There’s nothing that you could say to me right now that would make me even think about hating you, okay?’
‘But there is!’ You grip on to his forearms, relishing your closeness one last time. You know you’re going to be selfish you’ve ever been and ruin the most important thing in your life just to give yourself a moment of peace. ‘And I thought I was fine keeping it to myself, but I just can’t go on like this anymore.’
You stagger backwards, as you see the panicked look on his face. ‘I can’t eat or sleep,’ your fingers begin to nervously tangle themselves into your hair. ‘And I know you don’t deserve this, but I can feel myself going crazy and I know that I can’t keep this up.’
He slowly moves closer to you, his brow knotted in concern. ‘Keep what up?’
‘I can’t keep pretending that I’m not in love with you.’
There it is.
There’s no going back now.
He starts to say your name, but you cut him off quickly. ‘No, just let me finish,’ you bury your face in your hands, knowing damn well that you cannot possibly handle his reaction. You try your best to steady your breathing. ‘Because if I don’t do this now, it’ll just continue to eat away at me until I won’t even recognise myself.’
You take his silence as a cue to keep going. You remove your hands from your eyes but focus your attention on the floor. You eyes catch on a potted plant in the corner of the room by three window, and you keep your gaze focused on it as you utter your confession.
‘I thought it was just a little crush,’ your voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. ‘When we met a couple years ago. And then it was like one day I blinked and you and I had become best friends. I couldn’t remember a time when I was so happy.’
You’re crying now. You take another moment to gather your strength, and carry on, refusing to look up at him.
‘I thought us being friends would be enough, and for a while it was. I was fine loving you platonically, because I figured having you in my life as a friend would be better than not having you in my life at all. But my feelings never went away, they just continued to grow stronger and stronger and-’ you try to discreetly wipe your eyes. Your tears blurred your vision almost completely. ‘I knew you would never love me like I love you, because guys like you don’t date girls like me. The date models or influencers. The type of girl you brag to your friends about.’
‘I feel terrible because I’ve lied to you our entire friendship. I feel like this secret has just been festering inside of me and honestly I’ve been so miserable when I wake up everyday thinking this is it, this is the day you’ll find someone else and I’ll truly be nothing to you. But no matter how badly I try to protect myself from getting hurt in the end, I just can’t stay away from you.’ You let out a weak laugh.
You’re rambling now, you can feel it. You find it impossible to stop until he speaks. ‘What if I feel the same?’
You jerk your chin up to meet his eyes. He’s standing closer now, and you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.
Your stubbornness got in the way. ‘No you don’t. You could never love me.’
It feels like time stops when he says, ‘who said that?’
You shake your head, and viciously swipe your hands under your eyes. ‘No, Mase. Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know we joke around a lot but I would never fuck around with your feelings like that.’ You can feel panic rising in your chest.
‘I’m-’ Mason tries to go on to say until you interrupt.
‘You don’t have to let me down gently.’
‘Please give me a chance to speak, will you?’ He grips your shoulders gently, placing his face close to yours. And then he goes on to saying something you would’ve never expected. ‘Could you just pump the breaks for a second so I can tell you that I’m in love with you too?’
You stood stunned for a while before you managed to come out with ‘what?’
‘You do realise that I’ve been crazy about you for years now, right? I just didn’t know where you stood so I never had the guts to ask you out,’ He lets out a breathy laugh and runs his hands through his hair. ‘Oh god if I had known that you liked me back even a little I would’ve said something! I–I just thought you never saw me like that,’ He trails off. He stops and turns to me suddenly. ‘Princess, I am so sorry. All this time you felt like you couldn’t be yourself around me, like you couldn’t just tell me how you felt.’
You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded. You’ve realized that you still haven’t stopped crying, much to your absolute humiliation. If what he’s saying is true, you think, then why on god’s green earth can’t you calm down? But at this point the panicked sobbing has taken a new shape, now strangely mixed with exhaustion, giddiness, and confusion. You attempt a smile, but you imagine it looks very off-putting, considering your emotional state.
His hand on your arm breaks you out of your thoughts. ‘Sorry,’ I furtively wipe your eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me – I mean, I should be jumping up and down with joy, but,’ you release another shuddering breath. ‘I can’t seem to calm down.’
The look he gives you is one you’ve seen many times before, though you never knew how to describe it. Calling it a look of kindness or interest didn’t seem like it was enough to describe the depth of his stare, and it felt too far to call it a look of worry. Only now after these past few minutes have you understood what his gaze is implying. It was more than affection, it felt like love.
‘Hey,’ he murmurs. ‘It’s okay, you’ve been through quite a bit just now, baby.’
I laugh a little at that. ‘That’s a good way to sum it up.’
He smiles again, and your stomach does more than just flip, it somersaults and launches itself into a dive roll. And then he pulls you into his arms again, and though you can’t stop the tears leaving your eyes, you feel like you can at least control your breathing a bit more.
‘Now I know you have a tendency to overthink,’ he says after a moment or two. ‘But there can’t be any of that right now, alright? Don’t think about tomorrow or this new thing between us, alright?’
You pause, but relent with a small nod.
He continues. ‘I care about you like I always have, and my priority right now is to make sure you’re okay.’ His hand rubs reassuring circles on your back as he speaks. ‘It’s late now, and you must be exhausted after everything tonight.’
You let out a small hum of agreement. Now that he mentions it, you feel absolutely wiped out, and a dull pain has begun to take roots in your temples. Mason gently moves back, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear and taking in the sight of you in front of him. For what felt like the millionth time, you feel yourself becoming self-conscious. You know how red and swollen your face becomes after you’ve cried, and you’re willing to bet that the mascara running down your cheeks gives your features an added air of insanity.
‘How about you let me deal with some of the mess in the living room, while you wash your face and wind down a bit?’ he suggests.
‘Yeah,’ your breath still comes out a little shaky as you restate his commands. ‘No overthinking.’
He nods, satisfied with your answer. ‘And when I come back tomorrow, we’ll talk, and then you can let that brain of yours ask a hundred and one questions as it always does. But not until then,’ he finished with a smile.
You can feel your heart start to drop at his words
‘You’re not staying?’
The words are out before you can stop yourself. You know he doesn’t want you thinking about this new thing between us right now, but he has no idea how much overthinking you’ll do if he walks out that door. You know if he leaves, you’ll barely get a wink of sleep all night, wondering if our heated exchange was nothing more than a champagne-induced dream.
Mason looks at me with a smile. ‘Of course I can stay.’
‘Are you saying that because I asked, or because you actually want to?’ You shoot him an incredulous look
‘Let me tell you something, princess,’ he stares deeply into your eyes, refusing to let your gaze slip from his. ‘I’ve never, never left your side willingly.’
His words cause your breath to hitch and for your heart to constrict almost painfully, but you refrain from grabbing the skin over your chest, from making sure that your heart is, in fact, still beating.
‘I wanted you to know that you don’t owe me anything right now, and that we’re still – we’re still us,’ he says. ‘I didn’t want you to feel weird if I stayed the night, that’s all.’
You let out a soft breath. ‘Thank you, Mase,’ you whisper. ‘I trust you, you know that I do.’
‘Good,’ he replies. ‘That’s a relief because I honestly didn’t feel comfortable leaving my girl alone right now.’
You have to physically hold yourself back from grinning at his words. My girl. The thought of those two words, and all they could possibly imply, made me feel light-headed. All you can do is nod your head in agreement.
He gently brushes some hair behind your shoulders, giving you a soft grin. ‘So how about you get ready for bed, and I’ll grab a T-shirt from my car and put away the stuff in the living room. I’ll be back in a few minutes, alright?’
‘Okay, I think I can manage washing my face before I pass out,’ you say jokingly.
Mason chuckles as he walks out of the room. ‘That’s my girl.’
187 notes · View notes
flemingsfreckles · 2 days
Text
Trying Again
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: based off of this request
Warnings: pregnancy fic (r pregnant), failed IVF (eventually successful), some angst, mentions of vomiting (morning sickness), minor player injury, cursing, lightly suggestive at the end,
WC: 5.8k
A/N: this ended up longer than I expected but oh well 🤷‍♀️ I promise it’s fuffy in parts despite all the warnings
You feel your chest tighten and your breath catch in your throat as you stare down at the test with the two letter word staring back at you.
Blinking hard you try to clear your vision from the tears building, hoping when your vision clears up the two letter word will be a three letter one. Unfortunately it’s not.
“I’m so sorry.” You voice cracks as you shake your head, not daring to look at your wife. Scared she’ll be mad, scared she’ll be angry, scared she’ll hate you. Of course those are all the irrational thoughts filling your mind, your wife would never be able to hate you.
“Shhhh. It’s okay babe.” You look up to Jessie she’s moving toward you to embrace you in a hug.
“I must be doing something wrong. I’ll do better, I’ll eat better, I also probably didn’t get enough sleep this round, training has been a been harder recently, maybe I should take time off”
“Hey,” Jessie’s hands come to grab your face, forcing you to look at her as she bends down next to you. “This”, she points at the negative pregnancy test, “is not your fault. You heard the doctor, you’re doing everything right, training is fine, it keeps you healthy and that’s what’s most important to have this baby.”
“Well it must be, the doctor also said a lot of people get pregnant on their first round, this is our third round Jessie!” You were yelling, not necessarily at Jessie but unfortunately she was the one person in the bathroom with you, causing her to be getting yelled at. You were angry, upset, disappointed. You felt like this was your fault.
“Babe.” She tried to comfort you as you go to stand up and leave the bathroom.
“Jess stop!” You push her hands off of you. Throwing the test aggressively into the trash bin and storming past Jessie out and into your bedroom, the door closing hard behind you.
That’s when the tears come streaming out. They’re warm as they leave two trails down your face. Not wanting to alert Jessie that you were bawling in your bedroom, you clasp your hand over your mouth muffling your cries. You and Jessie had been trying for months, wanting to have a baby of your own.
The first time it was disappointing reading the negative test, but you were both still eager to try again. You waited a couple of weeks before starting your second round of IVF. Another round of shots, appointment, and being poked and prodded, but all was worth it when you would see the excitement on Jessie’s face when she talked about your future baby. The second failed test was discouraging, you had cried a little bit, unknown to Jessie. You had waited until you were alone in the shower before letting the tears flow. You felt terrible, you really thought the second time would work, but it didn't and it chipped away at your positive demeanor.
Jessie was your rock through the second failure, she spent time reading and researching, despite the doctors already giving you all the knowledge you needed. The two of you waited a few weeks before starting up the third round of hormones and appointments. Jessie cooked meals that were supposed to help your body, she made sure you drank enough water, you were never too cold or too warm, she was making sure everything was perfect.
Except it wasn’t perfect, the two of you had just failed again for a third time to start your family. It was less Jessie’s failure you thought to yourself, it was yours, you failed the both of you.
A soft knock comes at your door, you don’t say anything, knowing you well, Jessie enters despite the silence from you. She doesn’t say anything, she sits down next to you, letting out a sigh before grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly with her own. Her other hand comes up to gently push your head onto her shoulder. That’s how the two of you stayed, sitting in silence, your head resting on her shoulder, tears streaming down your face, only now you didn’t hold in the sobs. A small sniffle from Jessie indicating to you she was crying too.
You cry until you’re eyes hurt and your throat is burning. You and Jessie had slowly readjusted so that she was sitting with her head and back on the headboard, your head across her lap as she softly played with your hair. Neither of you spoke. Both understanding this wasn’t the time to have discussions about trying again, or taking a break from trying. The rhythmic strokes of Jessie’s fingers mixed with the exhaustion from crying overwhelm you and you fall asleep.
“Babe.” You wake to your wife’s quiet voice and her hand gently rubbing your back. “Babe, do you want to go to training? We don’t have to, we can talk with the training staff or come up with an excuse. But if we’re going we have to leave soon.”
You didn’t want to go to training, running around pretending normal was the last thing you needed after the morning you two had. But you also knew pretending to be normal was maybe what would help.
“Yeah let’s go.” You stand up quickly from the bed and move to the closet grabbing out your own and Jessie’s training bags. Jessie just watches, you can tell she’s worried about you, the way she’s watching you so closely, not saying anything, just observing.
Jessie watches you closely all through training. The other girls can tell you’re off as well, but you just shake them off, telling them you didn’t sleep well the night before and had woken up in a bad mood. Jessie confirms your story with everyone who asked her if you were alright. She was better at hiding her emotions, appearing the same as she did any other day, but you could tell she was in her head as well, missing some easier passes and you caught her staring off a few times.
When you get home you’re both already ready to go to bed, feeling emotionally and physically drained from the day.
“Hey babe?” Jessie’s sweet voice follows you down the hallway toward the bedroom.
“Yeah?”
“Can we talk?” It’s a sentence that would send fear through everyone in a relationship and even though you know exactly what she’s about to come talk about, the question of asking itself gets your stomach churning.
You knew she’d want to talk to make sure you were okay. She’d end up lying awake at night if she didn’t know you were doing alright. You didn’t want to be the reason she couldn’t sleep.
“Yeah.”
“I know it’s disappointing, the negative test, but it’s not the end of the world. We still have options, we can try again.”
“I’m so sick of trying and failing Jessie.” You sit down on the edge of the bed, flopping back to lay down putting your hands over your face.
“You’re not failing.” Jessie’s hand comes to sit on your thigh comfortingly.
“I am Jess, I’m not pregnant.”
“What do you want to do?” Her hand starts moving, gently rubbing your skin.
“I want a baby with you Jess!” You sit up turning to face your wife.
She’s got the look of pity in her eyes, her look is apologetic, as if you’re an injured baby animal, you know she doesn’t mean it in a pity way, but her gaze makes you feel weak. “I know you do, I want one with you too.”
You don’t say anything to Jessie, just looking at her, blinking hard to stop the tears that are threatening to leak out.
“Would you be open to trying again, if not that’s okay.” Jessie asks softly.
“I want to try until we have a baby.” Your tears were starting to fall from your eyes. Your hands were still covering your face trying to hide your tears from Jessie but your voice cracking gave you away.
“Oh honey.” Jessie’s hand leaves your thigh to pull your hands from your face. “My love, it’s okay, I know it’s hard, and I can’t imagine to feel what you’re feeling, but we’ll be okay. We can keep trying.”
You nod, your hands still hovering in front of your face, fighting against Jessie’s grip as she tries to pull them away from where you were hiding behind them.
“Let’s try again after the international break. You’ll get a rest and that’ll give your body enough time between cycles.”
“Okay, we’ll try again, but Jessie if the next one doesn’t work I don’t know if I’ll-”
“Shhh” Jessie doesn’t let you finish your sentence “the next time will work.” She plants a kiss on the top of your head before extending her hand to guide you to the bathroom where she changed you, helped wash your face, brush your teeth, get all ready for bed before she got herself ready and tucked you both into bed.
A week later you were enjoying a few extra hours of sleep, recently feeling more exhausted than normal, not having to get up for training when your sleep is interrupted by the bodily urge to throw up. You throw off the covers and sprint, just barely making it to the toilet. Normally you’d hear Jessie following behind you closely, rushing to get you a washcloth, hold your hair back, or rub your back. Unfortunately she had an early appointment with the trainer before some phone calls she had to make for the upcoming international break. She’d be gone most of the morning until early afternoon.
“Ugh.” You groan to yourself, wiping your face and grabbing your toothbrush and mouthwash. You go back to bed after cleaning yourself up, it was the day after a game and you didn’t have training or anywhere to be. You wished Jessie was back to hold you and rub your back as you drifted back to sleep.
When you woke up you still felt exhausted and nauseated. You shoot Jessie a text letting her know you weren’t feeling well.
Another urge to throw up comes and you take off for the bathroom. This time there’s nothing to void from your stomach and you end up just spitting into the toilet. Still feeling nauseous you decide to just sit in the bathroom for a while.
As you sit on the cool bathroom floor, you noticed the wrapper of a pregnancy test poking out the bottom of the cabinet. That’s when the wheels started turning in your brain. The fatigue, the nausea, you hadn’t gotten your period yet but you weren’t phased by that due to the hormone changes from the IVF injections.
Fuck it, you thought, I’ll take it, it’s not like my day can get worse.
You sit up, grab the test and take it. You set your phone timer and wait. When your phone rings you grab the test, barely looking at expecting the same “NO” you had gotten over and over. You go to throw the test in the trash before you realize what you read wasn’t a two lettered word. You slowly lift the test back up to your face, the word YES staring back at you.
“Holy shit.” You throw the test into the trash in panic. You were pregnant.
You grab the test back out the trash realizing you needed that, you had to show Jessie. You then proceed to take every remaining test you could find in the house, 12 total pregnancy tests, all reading positive.
You run into the closet, rummaging looking for the small package you bought and hid when you first were trying to get pregnant. A small Canada jersey, England jersey, and Chelsea jersey, your last names across the back of all of them. You went a little overboard you’ll admit, but you couldn’t help it.
Finally you were getting to use them. You grabbed them and hurried to the office where gift wrapping supplies sat most of the time unused unless for a birthday or the holidays. You grabbed a plain box, not wanting to give away any of the surprise to your wife before she opened it.
You put in blue and pink tissue, placing the jerseys and all 12 pregnancy tests inside the box. You placed it on the kitchen counter and sat down at the stool, and waited.
Jessie wasn’t home for another 2 hours but you remained, you didn’t know what else to do with yourself so you sat, staring at the front door.
When the door swung open Jessie stopped before closing the door.
“What are you doing?” She cocks an eyebrow at you.
“I made you a little something.” You slide the box slowly in her direction. She closes the door behind her, putting down the backpack she had and taking off her coat before moving toward you. She places a kiss on your lips and then pulls the box over.
“You didn’t have to get me something baby.” She smells sweet and like a coffee shop, likely where she was completing her work for the day.
“Well I did.”
She opens the box and you feel yourself start holding your breath, waiting for her reaction. She’s silent as her hand, that you notice has a soft shake to it, reaches out grabbing one of the tests, removing it from the box. Her mouth is open as she turns to look at you.
“Are you serious?” She’s got tears in her eyes.
“Yes.” You nod, your voice getting caught in your throat as you choke back tears.
She grabs you hard, pulling you off the stool and into a tight hug. You can hear her own heart pounding out of her chest. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“How?” She points at the tests. “How did you, when did you?”
“I threw up this morning like I told you, and then with the fatigue I’ve been having the past week, I was sitting on the floor and saw the test in the cabinet, things kinda clicked, I also haven’t had my period but I thought I was just off coming down from the hormones, figured I’d try a test, and then when it came out positive I took every single one we own.” You gesture to the pile of tests.
“We're going to have a baby.” Jessie finally lets out a tear.
“We are.”
“Okay so we need to set up appointments, we need to start figuring out how along you are, get prenatals started, I should get us some parenting books, we should look into cribs,” Jessie starts rambling about the baby, her excitement taking over.
“Jess, slow down.” You put your hand on your wife’s arm. “We’ll set up an appointment, and go from there.”
The two of you spent the rest of the evening cuddling, Jessie couldn’t keep her hands off of your stomach, where your baby bump will eventually grow. She had her hands under your shirt all evening as the two of you laid on the couch.
The next few weeks were the same, you had gone to the doctor, gotten the pregnancy confirmed with a blood test and started on vitamins, and all that comes with being pregnant. Jessie had bought all the parenting books, reading them obsessively every day. She got up with you when you were sick in the mornings, holding your hair and bringing you water. She’d cuddle you back into bed afterward, letting you rest until the very last minute before you had to be up.
“What am I going to do without you?” You groaned as Jessie placed a cool washcloth to your forehead and one to the back of your neck.
“I know babe but you’ll be alright. It’s only 7 days.” The international window had arrived and you and Jessie, while both going to the same location for friendlies, you would have to travel, sleep, and exist in separate worlds for a while.
“Plus Niamh is your roommate, she’ll be good with you.”
“Or she’ll avoid me thinking I’m sick when I puke every morning.” Your hand wildly gestures to the toilet you sat in front of. The two of you had yet to tell any besides trainers about the baby.
“We could tell her? We could tell everyone? I mean the Chelsea training staff know and so does England.”
“But is it too early to tell friends?” You knew Jessie was worried, you had been told that with the amount of tries it took, there was a chance the pregnancy wouldn’t last. That had scared both of you for the first few weeks until at your most recent appointment the doctor informed you that you had made it through the riskiest time period for the baby.
“I mean I’m 10 weeks, the doctors said it was pretty safe after 8 weeks if we wanted to tell people. I’m not opposed, plus at some point I’m going to start showing.” You place your hand on your waist where your bump had just barely started, something you could excuse as minor bloating.
“Okay.”
“Should we tell the Chelsea girls today?” You look up at Jessie.
“Yeah we can. If you want to babe.” She places a kiss on your forehead and removed both of the washcloths, gently wiping your skin as she does.
“Okay.”
You and Jessie both caught Emma before the start of training asking to speak to her. You told her the news, she congratulated you both and told her to let you know if either of you needed anything. She also said she’d gather the girls for you at the end of practice so that you both can talk to everyone.
“Alright girls, good work today! I need everyone in the conference room after you get your shoes changed, it’ll be a quick meeting I promise.” Emma flashes a smile at you, unknowing to everyone else that the look was intentional.
You walked into the conference room with the rest of the team. Emma stood at the front.
“Okay I promised this wouldn’t be long, so you two want to come up here?” She looks over at where you and Jessie were sat.
You look at Jessie and stand up. You’re not sure why but your nerves are starting to kick in, you knew they’d be happy for you, they were your friends, but it was still nerve wracking.
“Um, hi,” you give a small wave to the crowd of your teammates. A lot of them are staring back at you with confused faces, some looking worried.
“So, Jessie and I um, well” sensing your nerves, Jessie grabs your hand giving you a squeeze and a smile. “We’re um, we’re having a baby, I’m pregnant.”
The room erupts in front of you, shouts of excitement from your teammates, some of them clapping, they all start making their way to you and Jessie, giving you both their congratulations and hugs. The girls asked how long you’ve known, what the due date was, when you’d take off time from work, even Sam clapped Jessie on the back making a joke about her strong swimmers. It was a little overwhelming but you realized just how loved your baby was going to be.
“Niamh, come here.” You wave over your international teammate. “So obviously we’re gonna be roommates, I can send you over information, but just as a heads up, I do get sick in the mornings sometimes, if that’s a problem I can get our rooms switched.”
“That’s fine, doesn’t bother me, I’m so excited for you two!” Her arms reach around yours and Jessie’s neck pulling you in for a hug.
“Thanks Niamh.” You wander off to tell your other England teammates to keep their mouths shut until you have the chance to address that team as well. As you walk away you can already hear Jessie scolding Niamh.
“You better take good care of her Niamh I swear, don’t let her do anything silly, help her if she needs something. If I find out you weren’t good to her I’ll personally harm you.” Jessie wasn’t a very threatening person normally, she was relaxed, calm, laidback but as soon as she knew you were pregnant she took on an incredibly defensive approach, considering everything to be a risk to the mother of her unborn baby and the baby itself.
“I’ll take care of her Jess, don’t you worry.”
Despite Niamh’s promise, Jessie was still paranoid being away from you. She had never left you for more than a couple hours since learning you were pregnant. You were a mess when she had to leave, her flight a couple hours before yours. Tears streaming down your face as you walked her to the door, holding onto her, nearly forcing her to stay.
“Baby, I have to go, I can’t miss my flight.” She held you tight as you clung onto her.
“I know, I’m just going to miss you.” It was a weird feeling, you knew you were being overdramatic, but you couldn’t help it. You hardly ever cried when Jessie left, you knew she’d come back, you’d see her soon, and you’d never cried when you were flying to the same location.
“I love you, I will FaceTime you and Niamh tonight. You need to stop crying honey, you’re going to get dehydrated.”
“I love you.” You sobbed, getting the words out between deep breaths sending yourself into a coughing fit. You eventually let Jessie go and she left, leaving you to finish packing for your own flight. You throw in the tiny England jersey, Jessie had taken the Canada one, both of you wanting to tell your national teams at some point.
Over the next few days at camp Jessie was insistent on texting you every hour or two to check on you, she also was busy texting Niamh, LJ, Hannah, Jess, and Fran, making sure they all were checking on you. You felt bad for them having to respond to your wife’s texts but you knew they were happy to keep Jessie in the loop with how you were doing.
Everything was going well, until your second training session of the day. You started running laps, suddenly feeling nauseous, dizzy, a cramping in your stomach.
“Niamh.” You reach your hand out to the girl next to you, slowing down.
“You alright?”
“I don’t know, I feel sick.”
“Okay, here let’s go over to the bench.” Niamh wraps her arm around your waist, walking with you over to the bench with the trainers. The trainers, knowing your situation start assessing you. They decide to bring you inside. A few minutes later there’s a knock at the training room door. Leah enters.
“Hey what’s going on? You alright?”
“Yeah, no I’m good.” You try and brush her off.
“Dehydrated?” You shake your head at her. “Then what’s going on?”
“Its just a thing.” You look at the trainer, hoping he’ll maybe help your lie, he doesn’t.
“What thing?” She then quickly adds “if you don’t want to tell me you actually don’t have to, just as your captain, I like knowing what’s going on with my girls.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” Your eyes start to well with tears. “Jessie and I are having a baby.” You can’t help but smile as the words come out of your mouth.
“Oh my gosh, congratulations!” Leah pulls you into a tight hug. “Does anyone else know?”
“We told the Chelsea girls just last week and the training staff has known since we knew, but no one else.”
“That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you.”
“I want to tell the rest of the team but I’m thinking maybe at the end of the week after the game against Canada, that way Jess can be there.”
“Up to you two obviously. But you’re good to play?” She looks between you and the trainer still by your side. He nods.
“Yeah, at least for now, once I start having a bigger bump probably not. I just need to take it a bit easy, but it’s just standard symptoms, nothing concerning.”
Leah congratulates you again and exits the training room. Before returning to the pitch you find your phone with a slew of unread texts from Jessie.
Jessie 🥰: hi, I know you’re training, hope you’re doing well
Jessie 🥰: drink enough water and electrolytes please
Jessie 🥰: make sure you eat something too
Jessie 🥰: I have to go to training soon, keep taking care of yourself and our baby
You: Hi, I did get sick at training today, just so you know, I’m okay though, I got checked out by the staff. Leah now knows as well, she came to check on me and I told her.
You return to training with clearance from the doctor. You take it easy, the rest of the team coming to check on you. You and Leah had discussed just saying you ate too close to the start of training and that’s why you got sick. That deterred most of the questions for the day but as the week went on and you got sick a few more times which then brought up the questions again.
The end of the week comes quicker than you expect and suddenly you’re lined up in the tunnel, staring across the hallway to the back of your wife’s head. You were supposed to be playing all 90’ assuming you felt good enough to do so, you had a long chat with Leah and Sarina about your playing time, they both left it up to you on your minutes.
The game was physical from the start, thankfully you spent most of the first half being guarded by Jessie, she kept her distance except when you had the ball, then she’d get physical but you could still tell she was holding back. By the end of the half you were ahead 2-1.
You agreed to start the second half, still feeling good, a little fatigued but no more than you normally would for running around for 45 minutes.
It was going well until a corner kick for Canada came. You went up to jump as Jessie kicked the ball in for her team. When you did you got body slammed by two Canadian players, someone’s elbow hitting your lower stomach, unintentionally of course, but still causing you to hit the ground hard, clutching your waist.
“Fuck.” You groan into the grass under you.
You hear the whistle a second later, Niamh and Lucy both are by your side, flagging over the training staff.
“Hey they’re going to come help you.” You hear Niamh who is squatted down by your head.
“No I’m good, just knocked the wind out of me.” You try and wave off the staff and your own teammates.
“Okay, we’ll just get you some water, just stay sitting for a second. We’re not in a rush, take your time.” Lucy directs you.
“No, you should probably get checked out.” You hear Niamh say to you and Lucy. She gives you a look, widening her eyes slightly hinting at the secret she knew.
The trainers join the three of you. Asking you what’s going on, how you feel, what you need.
“Take her off!” You hear your wife coming up behind you.
Janine is quick behind her, grabbing her arm. “Jess let them take care of it, you’re not a doctor.” Jessie manages to wiggle out of Janine’s grip, storming toward you, still yelling at the England staff.
“I’m telling you, take her off.” She then turns to you, “you need to get looked at, and you know it.” You can tell she’s trying not to expose the secret you both held.
“Fleming, it’s not that big of a deal, she’s fine, go back to your side.” Lucy steps between you and where Jessie stood above you. You already know that Lucy’s actions are about to piss your wife off.
“Lucy, kindly fuck off, she’s my wife, I know her better than you, she need to come off.”
Lucy turns to you eyes wide, “What’s up with her?” You just wave her off.
“Take her out!” Jessie shouts again. You’d never seen her like this. Red in the face angry, hands clenched hard at her sides, shouting not only at the staff, your teammates, and you.
“Jess,” you try to calm her down. But she just turns her shouting to be directed at you.
“No, this isn’t something we’re discussing, you got hit, you need to be taken out.” She’s stern in her words, giving you a glare.
“Okay.” You nod at her, seeing her like this was making you realize that despite already feeling better, your stomach did hurt and you should probably get checked. You look at the staff. “I’ll go off.”
Jessie doesn’t say anything else to you or anyone and just walks away, returning to her team.
“Let’s get you checked out,” the trainer helps you up. You walk off the pitch, getting replaced. You walk all the way down the tunnel and into the training room.
The trainer and doctor on the staff help check you out, even using the ultrasound finding your baby’s heartbeat. They give you the all clear but advise you to schedule an appointment for when you get back home to be safe.
You walk back out to the bench just as the game is ending. The scoreline had not changed while you were away, England had come out victorious. You look around the pitch as your teammates celebrate the victory with each other.
“All good?” Sarina finds you as you wander toward Niamh, not being able to locate Jessie.
“Yeah, heartbeat was good, no concerns. I’m going to tell the girls I think, I want them to know.”
“That’s great! Good to hear.” She pats you on the back before turning to chat with Canada’s coach.
When you approach Niamh she points across the field where your wife stood being interviewed. “She’s over there, you better go see her, she was a mess after you went off. You’re good?”
“Yep all good, both of us” you wink and gently pat your stomach, subtle to those who didn’t know but to Niamh it told her everything she needed to know. You and the baby were good.
You make your way over toward Jessie as you hear her thank the interviewer, taking off the headset and handing it back to her. She catches your eye and starts running toward you.
“Are you okay?” She’s still frantic.
“I’m good, the baby is good, there’s no bruising or bleeding, they used the ultrasound to check and even got the heartbeat.”
“Good.” She pulls you into a tight embrace “I’m sorry I yelled. I just saw you on the ground and I panicked.”
“I know babe, it’s okay.”
“I was rude.”
“You were being protective, it’s okay. Lucy will be fine, especially once she knows.”
“Still want to tell them tonight?” She pulls back from the long hug to look at you.
“Yeah I think that’s good.”
Back in the changing room you texted Jessie to make her way over. As soon as you hit send you stand up, gathering your teammates attention.
“Hey everyone real quick. I have something I want to talk about.” There’s a knock on the door “it’s open!” You shout and Jessie’s head pokes around the corner. She walks over to where you stood, giving quick hellos to everyone. “Jessie is here because this is her announcement too.” You take a deep breath. “So the reason, this one,” you point a finger at Jessie “was so adamant about me coming off after I was hit was because, I’m pregnant.”
Similarly to the Chelsea room, there are cheers of excitement, some whistles, and a long line of hugs to be given. Lucy gives you a hug first and then moves over to Jessie.
“Lucy I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to be so rude out there I just” you hear Jessie babbling to your teammate, trying to apologize while you chatted with Leah and Alessia.
Lucy is quick to accept your wife’s apology. “We’re all good, you were protecting her. Protecting both of them. You’re going to be a good Mom, Fleming.”
Jessie blushes and smiles, “Thank you.”
Once you get a chance to talk to your teammates and they all get to ask how far along you are, if you knew if it was a girl or boy, when you were due, all the same questions you went through already with the Chelsea girls, you both head over into the Canadian locker room.
“Hi!” Jessie waves at everyone, “really quick I wanted to talk and sort of explain my uncharacteristic behavior this week and especially today.”
You’re not sure where she’s going with this so you let her continue.
“A lot of you noticed I had my nose in my phone a lot this camp and I may have seemed a little bit more spacey than usual. I appreciate you all for worrying about me and checking in to make sure I was okay. I am okay. Um, and then today I freaked out on the pitch at another team's player and staff, and that was unacceptable on my behalf. I apologize that I did that. The reason I’ve been on my phone and was so distraught when she went down.” She points at you. “This is my wife, by the way for those of you who have maybe never met her.” She adds and her comment gets a couple laughs.
“Anyway, the reason I’ve been weird this week is, she’s pregnant, we’re going to have a baby.” Jessie pulls the small Canada jersey out from behind her back holding it up for the team to see.
In identical fashion the room becomes a quick celebration, hugs and questions from all Jessie’s teammates.
Janine makes her way up. “I can’t believe you two kept a secret for that long, you both separately blabbed to me about the engagement rings you bought for each other within the hour of buying them. I’m so happy for you guys.” She hugs you both.
“Thanks Janine.” You both thank her.
“She’s going to be a crazy protective mother isn’t she?” Janine nudges you, you both watch as Jessie goes to talk with her other teammates, them all gushing over the tiny baby jersey.
“It seems like it, she’s never acted like that before.” You answer, before adding “it was actually really hot.”
“Gross, I’m walking away now.” Janine leaves you standing alone as she goes and finds Jessie again, whispering something in her ear that has Jessie turning around to look at you, her face with a slight blush on it, she gives you a wink and you realize what Janine had just told your wife. You walk over, giving her a kiss before you have to return to your own locker room.
When you get home the next day you both are exhausted from the trip and you fall asleep almost immediately. The next morning, you wake up not feeling nauseous for the first time in weeks, leading you to celebrate appropriately with your wife. Meaning you got to show her just how hot you thought she looked when she was being protective of you and your baby.
300 notes · View notes
moneymartin · 3 days
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・❥・- one more?
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summary: kate comes home tired and needy :( part two to this fic. build up drabble to part three
warnings: none! fluff cause its kate :3 this is kinda shorter than the last one soz. again, every divider is a skip. most are constant cuz im lazy. didn’t know how to end oops!!!
rpf dont read it if ur uncomfy thx
a/n: all yjs reqs r still itw soooo they’ll be out soon poopies 🙄 also my single part drabble for kate is lowk marinating in my drafts and i don’t have the motivation to finish it…
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its been 5 months since you and kate finally ended up together. pretty long, right? but you two never really got the hang of this thing, especially after remembering how long those feelings between you two had been brewing up for. it was still hard for you to show up to her games and practice due to soccer season, and the second it ended, you showed up to nearly every single one of them.
“i really can’t come this time, baby, i told you!” you grumble while kate drags you across the dorm. they had their practice game at carver today but you couldn’t make it, which made kate upset. “dilanni is gonna kill me if i don’t show up.” your soccer team needed to show up together for this fundraiser, and it was during the offseason. fucking lame. you hated letting her down all the time but some things like this just needed to be done.
kate’s fingers grip at your sweater sleeve, her eyes soft, and lips slightly pouting. “can you please just say you feel sick!? you’ll finish quicker than i will and it’s not like they won’t let you in.” she begs and tugs a little at it. her height makes you a little overwhelmed but she’s slightly bent at the knees and trying to make herself seem smaller than she really is. “kate, its just practice. its not like its the final fours yet.” you sigh and make her stand up straight. your eyes dart to hers and you bring your hands up to cup her face. the way she leans into your touch makes your face flush up like never before.
“yeah, but you always show out! i know we’re still trying to keep this on the down low still but i love pointing at you in the crowd before i make a shot during our practices.” she complains, trying to pull her head away from your hands but you keep her in place like a vice. your thumb brushes up against her face and she sighs under her breath. all those shots that she makes have all been for you ever since. and you didn’t even know that. everything she did on the court was meant for you. “i’ll make a deal with you, okay?” your words make her feel a little bit better and she nods ecstatically.
“when you get back we can do whateverrrr you want to make you feel better about me not showing up. does that sound good?” you propose, the idea crossing your mind after you realize that she just wants to spend that time with you while her teammates try to piece together this big puzzle. none of them know other than caitlin, and they’re completely unaware of you and kate’s relationship. “yes! okay, deal! deal deal deal…!” she blurts out and smiles stupidly, leaning her head towards you again as a sign that she wants a kiss.
you give it and let go of her face, wrapping your arms around her waist quickly and pressing another big kiss to her cheek. “don’t work yourself too hard out there.” you breathe out and pat her back before letting go of it. “this fundraiser should only be an hour, trust me.” kate just shrugs and smiles again, less big but you still know that she’s pretty happy at your little proposition for when she gets back. the moment you walk out of that door, her face drops and she rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. she’s alone now, and doesn’t know what to do. you’ve been with her for every game and every practice so she’s lost most of her motivation to go. “aw, dang it..”
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after your little fundraiser, you come home exhausted and dreary when you realize kate is gone too. you two are exactly the same person, lost without one another. it’s cute but sometimes it’s hard. this whole relationship thing is such a different concept and it makes your head hurt. the lock clicks on the door and you dig through your closet, finding a pair of pjs and some small shirt kate likes seeing you wear for ‘some reason’. which is what she says every time you ask.
a quick change and your casual clothes scatter across the floor before you basically face plant into the pillows. a warm feeling fills up your body while you fall asleep, a feeling that seems different still without kate. you two always sleep and take naps together so this is another thing you have to get yourself used to.
the stupid fundraiser ran longer than it should have. at least another 30-45 minutes extra and you weren’t very prepared for it. kids were all over the place too and you were somewhat on babysitting duty? according to your teammates. you stood with all the kids for at least an hour and the questions they asked you were probably the stupidest things ever.
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the sound of the door opening is what wakes you up, fingers instinctively rubbing your eyes and sitting up. you’re met with the sight of kate rummaging sluggishly through her backpack and taking out clothes. she mumbles out a small ‘hi’ and yawns, walking into the bathroom. the sound of the shower hits your ears and you just lay back down, trying to keep yourself awake to fulfill that proposal you made earlier.
a few moments after the shower turns off, the bathroom door opens and your mattress shifts in weight, a few drops of water coaxing you to open up your eyes. kate is sitting on the edge of the bed and she tucks herself in, burying her face into your neck. “how was practice?” you mutter, moving her wet strands of hair to sprawl out on the bed. she grumbles into your neck instead of instantly responding. “tiring, huh?” you ask.
“extremely.” she whispers breathily and looks up at you. kate’s eyes are slightly droopy and her lips are pursed. your arm wraps itself around her back and you tilt her head up with your hand, making her look up at you as you start rubbing her temples gently. kate’s eyes are opening and closing continuously while your fingers continue to massage her head and she huffs heavily a few times.
you push kate’s head into your neck again and slide your hands onto her shoulders, patting them gently to make her fall asleep easier. she doesn’t though. instead, she hoists her head up and quickly locks her lips with yours, grabbing your waist and holding herself up with her arms. her fingers are gripping at the bedsheets tight and she’s kissing you a little bit too hard. not that you mind, of course. “mmmf.. hey?” you pant and pull away from the kiss, making eye contact with kate and realizing where she’s placed her hands.
“i’m just kissing you.” kate mumbles and doesn’t even bother waiting for you to finish catching your breath. she kisses you again, propping herself up on her elbows and grabbing your arms to wrap around her waist. “y- yeah! but like… let me get a breather at least.” you laugh quietly. you’re still trying to catch your breath and the more you try to get away, the more persistent she becomes. “c’mon. you’re just sleepy, baby. get your butt to bed and you’ll be alllll good in the morning.” you smile and push her shoulders down.
kate ends up falling onto your body and her nose brushes up against your cheek, her lips running up and down your neck as she starts kissing all over it. “one more..” she rasps out and slides her hands underneath your shirt. she starts to claw your back a few times, whining into your neck when you try to push her away. “kate, please.” you grunt and pull back, nearly falling off of the edge of the bed.
her face is the same one as earlier. her big, pretty blue eyes going soft and her lips pouting. she looks like a sad puppy and you hate it. you hate how you can’t say no to it. “just one more! this is the last one and i’ll sleep, i swear.” kate spits out and tilts her head to the side. she yawns, her eyes getting watery and now you know that it’s basically over for you. “i can’t.” you mutter. “yes, you can. it’s just one more kiss, babe. please?!”
“all you have to do is give me one, and i’ll sleep!”
“you say this all the time! you’re gonna say that you’ll ‘sleep after’ but the second my lips land on yours, you’re gonna act like an animal.”
“that’s not true.”
“oh, yeah? watch.”
you cup her cheeks and she grabs your waist gently, your lips going in for one quick one. when she feels how warm you are and how much you’re trying to really prove a point, she just helps your claim anyways. kate’s lips are against yours again, kissing hungrily.
i mean, she’s practically eating away at your face.
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sinsirellaxx · 2 days
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Five times the Rogue Prince made you cry
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
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Warning: Daemon being Daemon, mentions of dubcon, angst and heartbreak?
Also: Not proofread – as always. Are we even surprised at this point?
The first time he had made you cry; was the second time you had met him. The first time you had met him was at a celebration at the Red Keep, his eyes had been glued to you the moment they had come across you. You weren’t sure what had drawn him to you, because you and everyone else were aware of his preferences – and you were nothing like the ideal woman that he was surely after. What you were sure of, however, was the feeling of discomfort and dread wash over you as his eyes burned into your skin. You had excused yourself early and parted from your friends and family before he had the chance to approach you.
After that, you saw him as he was invading your city, causing havoc and brutally cutting down everyone that came across him. Your wide teary eyes, filled with grief and hatred, had met his wicked ones before you turned around and ran. Ran until your legs burned – begging you to stop and rest. But you couldn’t. The sound of him hot on your tail haunting you and forcing you to push your muscles beyond their limits, scared of what he might do to you if he caught you.
The only thing that saved you that night was you jumping off a cliff and into the deep dark sea – lucky that you hadn’t hit your head on a stone upon breaching through the water surface. Before the Rogue Prince could reach the waters, you had managed to run into the woods and hide.
The second time he had made you cry was in the free city of Braavos. After having escaped that horrible night, you had not returned home to look for any remaining family – in fear of running across the Rogue Prince and having to face the reality of losing your family. Instead, you had traveled to Braavos to start a new life and to find the faceless men, for the world was not kind to helpless girls or women – you needed to learn how to fend for yourself. After weeks of trying to coax your way into the guild you finally made it into it. Moons pass by, before you cross paths with the Rogue Prince again. You don’t see him until he is just a few feet away from you, his hand reaching out towards you, his eyes filled with the same electric excitement as that night. You turned around just in time, stumbling back a few steps when your brain registered his Targaryen features. When you finally realized you turned around and ran, the blonde prince right behind you.
You felt a wave of nausea hit you at the Déjà vu, the situation so ironic that it made you want to laugh. You were thankful that you had spent a good amount of time exploring the city as you maneuvered through narrow alleys, pushing random objects to the floor behind you to slow the prince down.
Why was he here? Had he been searching for you? If so, why?
When you spotted the temple of the Faceless-Men your eyes lit up, but before you could relax the thought of luring a stranger to the guild to the temple would be fatal. You’d be in trouble with the Faceless-Men, and it was never wise to show your hideout to your enemy. Which is why you took a sharp turn, stumbling in the process. Fuck. Fear consumed your body when a hand shot out, grasping the back of your shirt with inhuman strength, pulling you back into the hard chest of your captor. You had lost. His strong arms wrapped around you, caging you in.
“I finally got you, little bird.” He chuckled into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your cheek like dragon fire, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. You had started thrashing around immediately; kicking your legs, pushing your elbow into his sides but nothing seemed to help – his grip was like iron around you. His embrace would be your personal birdcage from then on. The more you seemed to put up a fight, the wider the smirk on his face grew. As impatient as Daemon was, he quickly grew tired of your tantrum, the elbow that had managed to hit him in the face was the last straw. He quickly turned you around before bending down to throw you over his shoulder, his arm wrapping tightly around your thighs. He wouldn’t take any more chances. He would not lose you again. After walking across the whole city, he had stopped in the middle of nowhere. When you heard the screech of his Dragon you felt tears burn behind your eyes. You truly had lost.
When he heaved you up onto the dragon, a lone tear rolled down your cheek. When he climbed up behind you, his arms immediately wrapping around you possessively the rest of your tears followed.
“Let’s go home, riñītsos.”
The third time he had made you cry was shortly after the second time. Instead of King’s Landing he had taken you to Dragonstone, locking you into one of the rooms before disappearing for a few days. The maids had been the only people you had seen over those days. They had washed you, dressed you and fed you, before disappearing again. On the fifth day, the Maids had entered your room in a rush, carrying a beautiful gown into your chambers before ushering you into the bathroom. A weird feeling had spread through your body; the gown looked like a wedding-gown, the feeling of nausea rushed over you, weakening your knees and if you hadn’t been seated in the hot water you would have surely fainted. The urge to throw up had grown worse when you were seated in front of the vanity, the maids working on your hair and applying some kohl and tint onto your trembling lips. Afterwards you were forced into the beautiful gown, the corset was tied tightly, and you had wished for the corset to completely cut of your airstream and suffocate you. But fate wasn’t that kind.
The maids had left you after that, but you hadn’t been left alone for long as the Rogue Prince entered your chambers with a wide grin on his face.
“Gods – you look beautiful, riñītsos. Have you missed me?” He came to stand behind you, his chest touching your back as he pressed his nose into your hair, taking in your scent.
When you had stepped away from him, he tutted his tongue, pulling you towards him again. You had tried your best to avoid looking him in the eyes, but you couldn’t help but look up when you felt the feeling of cold metal on your neck and chest. Your hand flew up to touch the necklace, looking down to see the beautiful ruby gemstones encased by dragon claws. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He whispered as you examined it silently. “It’s my wedding gift.”
At the word wedding your whole body tensed up again. You had immediately started protesting, your hands frantically trying to unclasp the necklace, but the prince had only chuckled at your pathetic attempt. “No? What do you think will happen, if you start running again, little bird? Do you really think that you can escape me? Escape from Dragonstone?” The silence that had followed was loud, followed by a low, haunting chuckle. He had been right. You couldn’t escape.
That day you had cried in front of the sept as you were bound to the man you feared most in front of his gods. That day you had cried yourself to sleep after he had defiled you – after he had greedily taken everything from you until exhaustion finally took over you.
The fourth time he had made you cry was when Daemon had stormed into your chambers, an unreadable look on his face as he approached you with big steps. You had been scared, your body still sore from the previous night but instead of bending you over as he liked to do most of the nights, he had kneeled in front of you – hugging your body and pressing his face into your stomach.
“My little dragon. Thank you, ābrazȳrys.” He had said, before pressing soft kisses onto your stomach, his hands squeezing your bottom as he took in a deep breath. “The maester informed me you’re with child, little bird.”
His words had made your heart skip a bit, the feeling of anxiety threatening to consume your nerve as your eyes had widened in shock. You were pregnant with his child.
“You are mine forever, riñītsos.”
The fifth time you had cried was when you caught him kiss his niece in a dark corridor – the pregnancy hormones had messed with your feelings you had told yourself as you had run back to the safety of the room. You had cried and cried, clutching onto the front of your dress at your heart’s betrayal. You had fallen for your captor. And your captor had cheated on you.
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kika-writes · 2 days
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play with me boy - l.n - part2
Warnings: crime mentions, assassinations, arranged marriage, forced marriage, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos, sexual harassment, mentions of cheating, fat-shaming.
Pairing: mafia!Lando!Norris x fem!reader
Summary: Y/N is in an arranged marriage, but falls for someone else…
A/N - Ollie Norris is not a pervert or a bad person, I just used his name as I know he’s Lando’s brother. Also changing the old Big Fic to this x
Other parts
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Making your way there, you almost cried out in shock at the boy grinning at you. His curls were ragged and messy, eyes shining, his huge hands gripping the edge of your balcony. “Lando!” you hissed quietly, knowing the maids would be wandering around doing their daily chores. Unlocking the glass door, you held out your hand for him to lever himself up. You greatly underestimated his strength as he pulled you into the balcony railing, making you squeal and let go of his hand as he hung by one arm.
 “Miss Y/N? Is everything okay?” one of the maids called. “Y-yeah, I’m changing!” you said, using both hands to pull Lando up, his stomach on the edge of the balcony. “Okay!” the maid called back. Lando was dressed in cream joggers and a matching plain hoodie, casual but still nice. “Cheers Y/N,” he shook his head, laughing at your panting body. “Fuck off,” you hit him gently as he grabbed your wrist. “Why are you here?” you said, pulling him onto your room and locking the door. 
“Wanted to see ya,” he said casually, his accent was more laced with sweetness than his brother’s and he didn’t try and touch you up at every available opportunity. “Nice room,” he commented, sitting on the plush bed, eyes travelling round the walls. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching for the files on your bed. You were about to stop him but he’d already opened it. “You have a file on ME?” he exclaimed, making you shush him. “Miss Y/N, who as that?” a maid called. “Me!” you snapped, “do leave me alone, Aurora,”. The maid apologised profusely from the outside of the door as Lando grinned sheepishly.
“I wanted to know more about you,” you shrugged, blushing. “Why’s that?” he asked, lips curling into a smirk as you rolled your eyes. “That’s Melissa’s file,” he frowned, picking up the other one. “Y-yeah,” you muttered, making him raise an eyebrow. “Why’d you have hers?” he blinked at you. You didn’t want to tell him. Melissa came from a very bad family, filled with of looters, and there was no doubt she was just the same, seeming as the 8 boyfriends she’d previously had Gad all ‘died mysteriously’. 
And you’d never ordered a killing before. You absolutely had the power to, and maybe it was selfish of you, but you didn’t want Lando to marry someone else. Even if you were. “Y/N? Why?” he asked, his tone changing. “She is my fiancé, Y/N, tell me,” he said, making you gulp. “Now,” he commanded. His voice suddenly had a lot more power to it, it was nearly scary. “I…I don’t want you to marry her,” you mumbled, so quiet he didn’t hear you. “Come again?” he asked. 
“I don’t want you to marry her,” you repeated, cheeks red. “Neither,” he snorted, “she’s a bitch. I was supposed to marry you. But Ollie wanted you and he’s the heir I guess,” he revealed making you gasp. “You were gonna marry me?” you asked, making him flush. “Yeah. Rather you than Melissa,” he shrugged. You hummed, looking down, slightly embarrassed at your sudden enthusiasm. “How old are you, Lando?” you asked, as he frowned. “Your file didn’t mention,” he teased as you groaned. 
“Leave off,” you pushed him gently. “Twenty four,” he said, leaning in. “And you’re nineteen,” he added, “born on the 29th of August. Ninety two days before me,” he said softly, looking at you as you blushed again. “Lando, I-“ you started, however the sound of the front door shutting made you jump. “Y/N, we’re back,” your mother called as your eyes widened. They were early. 
“Shit,” you hissed, grabbing Lando’s arm. “Um, ow?” he said indignantly, rubbing his arm as you pushed him to the window. “Back out where you came, go!” you hissed, slightly scared. “They’re driver’s on the driveway,” he said, ducking back behind the railing as you gulped. You were gonna be dead. Literally, if Ollie found out. “Please, Lando, I can’t be found with you…” you gulped, his eyes locking on yours. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around. And ever so fucking narrowly, did he make it through the gates, without being seen. 
“Y/N, we don’t lock doors in this house!” your dad banged on the door as you unlocked it. “I was changing,” you muttered, cheeks red. “Reading about Ollie?” he said, a small smile as he saw the file - Lando’s file. “Uh yeah,” you said, snatching Melissa and Lando’s files off your bed before your dad grabbed it. “I’ll put it back,” you mumbled, cheeks red. Surely the assassin had done away with that Melissa girl. 
“Sir, sir,” a maid ran into the room. “What is it, Aurora?” your father commanded. “It’s Master Norris,” she panted, frowning as your dad raised an eyebrow. “He’s dead, sir,”. 
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bluerthanvelvet444 · 3 days
Text
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆。˚ ⁀➷
(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)
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tags: sfw and nsfw.
warnings: none.
character count: 7k.
this was a request!
ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆。⁀➷
He LOVES playing games with you.
Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.
He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.
His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.
“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.
“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.
“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.
“Who said I paid for it?”
He takes you anywhere you want.
You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.
You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.
In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.
He always matches your mood.
If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.
If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.
If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.
He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.
You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.
“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.
“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.
“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.
“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.
“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.
“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.
“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.
“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.
He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.
His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.
“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.
“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”
“Oh.”
ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆。˚ ⁀➷
He’s horny 24/7.
Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.
You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.
“I barely touched you…” You teased.
“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.
He’s such a switch.
You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.
“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.
“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.
He’s open to all types of sex with you.
Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.
Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.
Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.
Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.
No toys!
One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?
He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.
Quickies in public are more common than you think.
With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.
“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.
“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.
He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.
“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind
a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶
all rights reserved!!
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satoruslovergirl · 3 days
Text
“ SO, DO YOU STILL PLAN ON LEAVING ? ”
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|| FEATURING : gojo s. afab!reader
|| SYNOPSIS : you thought you could leave gojo after a hook up…you thought wrong.
|| TAGS : Fem bodied reader, implied breakup sex, very light body worship, cunnilingus , vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie,
|| A/N : First post !! Please just kind and give me feedback if you can 💕💕.
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“ You don’t know how long i’ve been wanting to do that..” satoru whispered into your ear. the cold air from his mouth made you shiver, causing you to begin to slightly squirm under him. your nude body’s created a certain warmth as they rub against eachother—one you hope to never ever feel again.
You find yourself coming to a realization; it finally clicked in your mind. You had just slept with your best friend..shit..this was bad, really bad. Especially during a breakup—everyone makes bad decisions during breakups…
You attempt to slowly push him off of you and flee for the nearest exit—well door; you are in his apartment after all.
“Y’going somewhere.?” his voice made you freeze. For a few moments, the only thing covering up the awkward silence was the blasting air conditioning.
What to say—What to say.. Does this make him think you didnt like it, because that would be a total lie. How on earth do you find a good excuse to get the hell out of here..?
“ I-um..I really enjoyed this, but I should leave. I have a busy schedule. ” You break the silence; this isn’t too harsh, is it?
“ You try’n to leave me already; forget all of this happened? ” satoru gasps and chuckled deeply. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he had taken some offense to your comment, but he was trying to cover it up.
He isn’t taking this seriously—well of course he wont; the thought of the two words together were idiotic. Satoru. Serious. He’s never serious..
You quickly get fed up with his nonsense. “ Listen, this was a mistake. I was horny and you were the first person i saw— ”
“ Sure didn’t seem like a m’stake when you were cumming all over me; or have you forgotten that already? ” Satoru swiftly responded, not a hint of embarrassment. To be honest it sounded more like…annoyance.
You roll your eyes and begin to twist and turn under him. “ Let me go— I have things to do! ” you strain out. You cant help but to giggle slightly; the feeling of his soft fingers grabbing onto the plushy flesh of your thighs and waist gave off a tickling sensation. After a while you got fed up with feeling and yelled out —“ Fine! ”
“ If i stay here for a few more hours, will you let me leave and forget this ever happened ? ”
Satoru, being himself, agreed immediately. His fingers trail up and down your skin ; it’s almost like he was trying to get under your skin, literally.
You close your eyes for a few minutes, trying to zone out everything that has happened until you felt…it..
Toru had always been a risky person; for instance, that time he made out with a girl in the locker room…when everyone was in there. But he was always cautious near you. Following your demands, getting you gifts, taking care of you in general; those where the reasons you became friends with him. But the thing he was doing right now was not a thing the friends do.
He trailed his fingers between your legs and stops around your clit. He pressed down on it so hard, it felt like electricity. It stung, it hurt even, but it also felt—soo good.
“ M-mhm ” you whimper . You want to get up and leave, to save yourself the embarrassment, but you couldn’t. It felt too good. You were frozen..
“ Round two ..? ” he whispered.
You want to say no, to leave and act like none of this happened. But you just cant. Satoru has always intrigued you, to be honest, this was a dream come true disguised as a mistake.
“ Yes…i want it, please.” you mumbled into his shoulder; it felt as if you were trying to stop yourself from saying it, but you want it too bad.
He removed his hand and slowly got on top of you. He stares at you in admiration before leaning in
He brings you into a soft kiss; well it started out as soft, and he got rougher and rougher. You pull away for a few seconds to try and catch your breath.
“ Why did you stop? ” he says with a shaky breath; his piercing blue eyes drill holes into your body.
“ I-..need air. ” you say; your heart racing with desperation.
“ I’ll give you air— ” he cuts himself off as he brings you back into a kiss. His tongue skillfully jammed down your throat.
Regardless of the fact you continued to kiss him back, your tongue is always a beat behind him; But you just cant get enough…
After several long seconds of kissing, he stop. He stared at you like a beast who had just caught its prey. Slowly, he trailed down your body, all the way to your breasts. He pinches your hard nipples, causing you to let out a sharp squeal.
“ Toru! are you trying to kill me!? ”
He playfully rolls his eye — as sassy as ever. “ Yeah..kill you with orgasms.” He quickly began to suck them, staring at you the whole time.
“ S-satoru ” you whimpered out; the sensation started to make you moan uncontrollably.
He pulled your legs apart and nests himself between them. “wish i could live in this sweet cunt” he licks away at your core; each lick making the inside of your thighs stickier, lewder, and makes wet squelching sounds echo through satoru’s penthouse-like apartment. It doesn’t take too long before your a squirming, writhing mess on his white silk bed.
“ P-please ” you manage to whisper out through your quickly developing climax; tears build up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your face.
Coming out from between your legs, satoru stops staring at you and starts to stare at your pussy. He looked like he wanted to devour you.
“ You taste like heaven.. ”
His fingers slowly slip into your pussy, teasing and spreading your sensitive walls, looking in awe at the way they pulsed around him.
Your body pulled his fingers in, guiding his fingertips to that sweet spot that you so desperately wanted to feel him rub against.
“Oh my god . . . shit, that feels amazing,” you breathe out; your eyes begin to roll due to the overstimulating pleasure.
You begin to tremble with anticipation..Right there—that spot he’s hitting… Just as you were about to reach your climax—he stopped.
Before you could comprehend anything, he flipped you over. Your head was now pushes into a pillow and your ass was in the air.
Satoru slowly became to ease his cock into you. “Fuck..You’re so tight..” He gasped out and flung his head back. “You good?” He checks up on you to make sure everything is fine.
You nod, giving him reassurance and telling him he could start,
He began to slowly fuck you. His soft fingertips trailed down your ribcage and grab onto your hips. He gradually starts to speed up. Soon enough, his movements were relentless; each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
The intensity of his touch, the way he held you so close, made you feel completely consumed by him. The sounds of your moans mingled with his own groans of pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that filled the room.
“M-mmh—yeah..keep sucking me in, just like that..”
“ Toru-u..shit— ”
Satoru's hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your skin as he continued to move inside you with a rhythm that was both primal and intoxicating.
The feeling of his weight pressing down on you, the heat of his body against yours, only added to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that threatened to consume you.
As he quickened his pace, the tension in your body built to a fever pitch, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Toru—cum..Im about to cum!” you yell out as your climax builds up once again. Your eyes fall to the back of your head again and you grip onto a pillow, in hopes of making your orgasm less intense.
Satoru was hitting all the right spots; the spot that not even your ex could hit.
Finally both of you scream out in ecstasy as you came. “Shit!—” your legs give in and you fully fall into the bed. Satoru rolled over and laid next to you. His chest was now sticky with sweat and weaving up and down. He was quite literally breathless.
And as you lay there, exhausted and sated, you couldn't help but feel happy. Satoru just did something your ex could never do. You started to fall asleep, that orgasm made it almost impossible to stay awake. But before you can fully fall asleep you feel a light slap on your arm.
You look up and see Satoru hovering over you.
“So..Do you still play on leaving?” he teased.
You almost forgot how much of a tease he was..But he was your tease.
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© satoruslovergirl. please refrain from copying, modifying, nor reposting my work.
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cloudedgalaxies · 2 days
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Thinking about how I really want the end of Book 7 not to end in a battle, even though it’d be so cool.
We’ve already seen that Malleus is incredibly powerful, and honestly as it is now, I don’t see a way for the students to be able to reasonably fight him and win. Yes, everyone at NRC is exceptionally powerful, but they’ve commented time and time again how Malleus is on a whole other level than anyone there. We’ve fought him a couple of times now, in and outside of dreams, and it has always ended in defeat.
So then how do we save him? The one way that no one would think of, except perhaps Diasomnia and definitely Yuu—the power of friendship making Malleus willingly stand down. 
Malleus has been alone for the vast majority of his life. Now, even when he is attending NRC, constantly and perpetually surrounded by students and mages, nearly everyone is too afraid of him to approach him. Because of that, when the potential of one of the few people who are near to him leaving arises, he is so terribly scared and sad that he doesn’t know what to do besides force them to stay. He would rather have the people he knows live out their days in eternal slumber and only interact with them inside their dreams than watch them age and fade and eventually disappear from his life entirely. He is willing to be the sole person in the entirety of Twisted Wonderland awake, just so that he does not have to lose a single soul.
That is an incredibly lonely fate, to be the one person left not dreaming. Of course, he can enter their dreams, control them, see them and touch them and live out lives that can endlessly and eternally restart. But that is not the same as being with them in reality. Dreams are wonderful, but they are not real. Some part of Malleus must realize that—that his actions here are condemning him to a future that is so much more isolating than what he thought. And yet, what else can he do? If he restarts time, if he reawakens everyone, they will die. They might hate him. And worst of all—they will leave, given enough time. No matter how terrible it would be to be the only person left conscious in the world, Malleus must believe that that cannot compare to the fate of being left.
So what can we do to stop him? We can certainly try to fight him. We will probably fail if we do. The mages defending the rest of the world from eternal slumber’s reserves will run dry, while Malleus will continue to rule over his domain of dreams, which will only grow larger with every attack and eventual defeat that comes.
Or, perhaps, we can try to save him. Diasomnia, as is, is not doing so well in terms of magical prowess as other dorms are: Lilia’s magic is fading, Silver is spending himself transporting himself and others from dream to dream, and Sebek, while powerful, is still only a freshman. Similarly, Ramshackle can hardly even hold a candle to everyone else: Grim, as much as he boasts, does not seem to be notably powerful (yet), and Yuu has no magic to speak of at all. 
Imagine how shocking it’d be then, if these people, so utterly weak in terms of magic, are the people who are able to take down one of the greatest mages in the world. And they don’t even do it through battle—they do it through understanding where Malleus is coming from and trying to calm his worries. They tell him that yes, people will go, and there is no way to stop it, no matter how much someone might wish for it to be so. But for every time someone leaves, someone will also come. Malleus’ world started with Lilia, and then Silver, then Sebek, and now finally Yuu. Lilia is leaving, and so might Yuu, but that does not mean that they will be gone forever. There will be memories and stories and dreams to last a lifetime, and, while their gaps will never be filled, more spaces will open up to accommodate more people. We’ve seen it through the way that Malleus has slowly come to know more of the student body—his ‘friendly’ fights with Leona, Cater perpetually trying to get pictures with him, learning a bit more about technology through Idia and Deuce…while these cannot quite be called friendships yet, there is something there that can’t be mistaken. And maybe, because the people telling him this are his first real friends and closer to him than anything, he’ll consider it.
Maybe Malleus won’t listen to reason. Maybe Book 7 will end with a breathtaking battle that encapsulates the world’s best mages to overthrow the fae prince—NRC, RSA, NBC, legends outside the schools, and more—and I would be okay with that. But I also think that Book 7 ending in peace, where Malleus takes the hand we offer and steps down from his reign of slumber without any more bloodshed, would be just as beautiful.
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yanderederee · 3 days
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Hi there! Can i please request Yandere Kazutora with letter H?
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Oh boy… Karutora is delusional and dangerous if he’s tested. Any little thing will set him off even normally, but if you deliberately did something to get a reaction out of him? Babes, welcome to hell.
The worst thing you could do to him is make him feel like you will leave him. Kazutora needs you to only think about him, rely on only him, forget everyone else, and hold him close to your heart. That’s not so hard. And he loves the way you will always validate him when he shows you those puppy eyes begging for your attention.
Hypothetically; let’s say you pulled a harmless prank, sent him the “My boyfriend just left, you can come over now♡” prank text.
It’s over. Doesn’t text back. Immediately turns around, and slams the door wide open with a crazed blank stare. He’s pissed Off. You’re actually scared, despite claiming he could never do anything to make you feel that way. He slams the door shut and locks it, comes over to you, and puts his hands round your throat.
Even when you try to explain that it was a prank, there was no one else, you didn’t have any intentions of inviting anyone— None of your empty words mean anything to him. He’s delusional and doesn’t believe you.
You can’t tease him like that. He’s not okay.
“Who is he? I’ll kill him. Did you think this would be funny? A prank? Am I just a joke to you, something you can laugh at once you become bored? I don’t understand. It’s not funny.”
You’ve broken him. It only takes that one time to completely make him snap. Kazutora feels hurt simply by the thought of you leaving him for another person. And after making him even slightly believe it could be true?
You’re not leaving your (now shared) living space for a long, long time. He’s broken your phone, and if you attempt to retaliate, Kazutora in his blacked out state doesn’t have the willpower to hold back from hitting you. He’s made it plenty of mistakes while in blackout rage, and he’s wanted to grow from those mistakes and be better. But old habits aren’t easy to change.
You think it’s been a month before you see Kazutora smile again, and treat you with care. The hell he put you through had finally come to pass. All the bruises he’d left on you had finally healed, and if he decides to let you both go outside (for a date), no one would be able to tell you’d been locked up for weeks. Kazutora may appear the same on the outside, but you know what kind of monster lerks inside him.
Don’t make him feel like that again.
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to-the-stars8 · 3 days
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Vigilant Coffee
Batfamily x Reader Chapters AO3
18-What’s Worse than a Gotham Villain? A Karen.
You had dealt with vigilantes, cartoon villains, and every other creep under the sun, but your one weakness? Karens.
There was just something about them that got under your skin. It was like their mission in life was to just be a major bitch. In all honesty, it made you want to eat glass. Luckily, with the night shifts, you never really had to deal with them. All of the vigilantes that came through your door were kind, and the villains, albeit less so, could be tolerable on some occasions. 
Much to your dismay, your luck was not there. This lady, who had come in an hour before your shift ended, was being such a prick. She started with passive aggressiveness, being short and curt with you—It was then that you knew no matter how right you could have done something she was going to find a fault within it. 
This lady was out for blood that night. As soon as you placed her order on the counter, she took one look at it and said, “This isn’t what I ordered.”
“You ordered a chai latte with cinnamon, right?”
“No, that has to be someone else’s order.”
Your eyes darted around the cafe before saying, “You’re the only one here.”
The silence after that was too loud and the tension now thick. The lady’s pale face got beat red and she pressed her lips into a thin line. Suddenly, her loud, squeaky voice that you were sure could crack glass, cut through the air, “Are you talking back to me?”
“No, Miss, I’m just trying to understand—”
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” She said.
You only mumbled an apology before taking her drink to remake it. Before you could even get two steps away she stopped you by snapping her fingers to get your attention. That irked you more than anything, but you knew once you said something your boss would be out for your ass. Your boss was one of those ‘the customer is always right even though they’re not’ type of people. 
You looked at her with a smile, though, just to be the bigger person. “Yes?”
“What are you doing with that drink?”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you answered, “I’m going to remake it for you.”
“Are you stupid or something? You can’t waste a drink, give it to me.”
This time, you wanted to stand your ground, “Not unless you pay for it, Ma’am.”
Now, that was the straw that broke the damn or something like that. Now this lady was laying into you like no other. She called you every name in the book, and, when she ran out of those, she thought of more. Some, admittedly, were a bit creative. 
You were in near tears when, all of a sudden, a voice somehow managed to overtake hers. “Damn, lady, do you ever shut the fuck up?”
You turned to see Arsenal and Nightwing walking toward the two of you. It was like a switch turned in that old hag in front of you. She went from being a cunt to a cupid in a matter of seconds. You, on the other hand, were relieved. She tried to fawn over the heroes but looked less than interested, a bit mad even.
“Why the fuck are you talking to someone who’s trying to help you like that?” Arsenal asked, stepping closer to the lady. 
You wanted to know her response, but Nightwing sauntered to the counter like nothing was going on. He leaned against it and asked, “You okay?”
You nodded, sure if you started talking you were likely to break down, but it didn’t matter since the tears were already falling down your cheeks. Trying to maintain your dignity, you asked Nightwing to give you a moment to remake the woman’s drink. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how you felt, it was the customer that was always right according to your boss. 
“No,” The lady sheepishly said as Arsenal stared at her down. “I’ll take it.”
“Would you like me to heat it for you,” You asked. “I think it might have gotten a bit cold.”
Nightwing turned to the lady and said, “That’s so nice, isn’t it?” When the lady didn’t respond, he asked again, sounding more stern. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes!” The lady said, eyes darting between Nightwing and Arsenal. “And, please, if you would.”
“Okay,” You said, sniffling as you wiped away your tears. 
As you heated her drink, you listened in on what Arsenal and Nightwing were telling her. They were giving her a lecture on how to treat people, saying that, in all the years they’ve been vigilantes, they’d never seen someone get treated this badly. Arsenal, though you had never met him before, had a lot to say in your defense—Even going as far as to come up with some creative insults himself. You kind of liked it, especially since it was hot. 
The ding of the microwave stilled the lecture and the lady was quick to take her drink back. She gave you one more pathetic glare before quickly walking out of the cafe. It wasn’t until she left that you finally broke down.
Arsenal leaned on the counter as he spoke softly to you. “Hey, gorgeous, don’t let that lady get to you, okay?” 
“Okay,” You said pathetically as you wiped away your tears. “I’m sorry I’m crying.”
Nightwing slid over the counter to hug you, which made you cry harder. “Hey, hey, why are you crying again? It’s okay.”
You sniffled into his suit. He smelled just like Batman but with a hint of cheap cologne. “Because I’m crying in front of two hot guys, asshole!”
You felt Nightwing chuckle, his chest moving a bit against your face, and you couldn’t help but blush. Oh, man, this just sucked even more. Looking at Arsenal, he gave you a weary smile and cooed to you that it would be alright. Yup, you'd be thinking about this later tonight.  
Now, the other other weakness you forgot to mention? Hot men being nice.
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