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#hope I like the next one better but probably not ^_^
fyorina · 2 days
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ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending four years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.
(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!
You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 
Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—four years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, four years ago, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.
“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 
“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”
The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.
“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”
“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”
“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”
You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad four years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 
“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t. It makes you a bit sick to your stomach—you’ve only been back in Yokohama for a few days and you feel as if you have yet to even adjust to Dazai’s defection from the Port Mafia because you were away for so long. Him showing up like this opens up wounds that are too fresh for comfort—it reminds you of the days that feel like yesterday when he would show up at your office to distract you from your work, pouting and throwing himself on your couch when you blow him off to finish up your reports. 
“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 
Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 
“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 
“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”
Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 
“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.
“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I haven’t been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”
“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”
“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 
“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”
He’s telling the truth.
Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.
“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 
“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”
“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”
A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 
You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 
“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”
Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 
“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”
You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”
Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”
“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’
“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”
Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 
Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 
You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 
He smiles. 
Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 
“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 
As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.
You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.
It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.
Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.
He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.
Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 
This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-
You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.
You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 
God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.
“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”
“But-”
“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”
Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 
He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.
The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.
“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 
He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 
Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.
“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”
You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.
It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.
You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 
He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 
God, he’s gorgeous. 
You hate him. 
You’ve missed him. 
You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.
“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.
You don’t deny him. You never can. 
You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.
Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.
You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.
He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 
Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 
“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.
“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 
You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 
“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 
“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 
You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-
“None.”
“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”
“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”
His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.
“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”
This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”
Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.
“No?” he questions. 
A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 
“No.”
His smile sharpens.
“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”
True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.
“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”
“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.
He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 
His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.
“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”
Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.
Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 
“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 
Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 
Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.
Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 
“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”
You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”
He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 
Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.
You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.
This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 
It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.
You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 
Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 
What did you do?
You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 
If anyone finds out about this-
You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.
He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.
After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.
“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 
You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 
“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”
“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”
“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”
“Stop.”
“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for my sixteenth birthday because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”
The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 
Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.
“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.
“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”
“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”
“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”
“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 
“I know,” he murmurs. 
You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.
Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.
Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 
“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”
His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”
“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”
The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 
“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”
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sporadicbeans82 · 3 days
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Reader’s dad has really high standards for her like impossibly high for just a 16 year old, and she overworks herself to the point she passes out and all the girls are really concerned and she’s just like no i have to keep going i have to be better i have to be enough and then they all press her for more info and then when she eventually tells them about how she’s feeling they all comfort her and tell her playing pro soccer at that young is amazing and that she’s enough]” Barcelona Femini (mainly Alexia Putellas) or Arsenal WFC
You 100% do not need to write this just would love to see your talented writing skills give this a shot🫶
Enough || Barcelona Femení x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death, toxic family relationships, lack of self care from reader, Swearing (probably?)
Word count: 4.3k words
A/N: I lied, this was next. Feel free to make more requests. I hope that this is alright, anon! I kind of strayed from the plot.
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“You should have scored more, you didn’t try hard enough,” Your father’s voice was flat, the comments made offhandedly as if he were talking about what you were having for dinner. As if he weren’t stabbing you in the back with his words, the comment digging deeper and deeper and cracking your heart open. “That header was yours, you disappointed your team by letting that one go.” 
Growing up, you’d always dreamed of playing professional soccer, and so your parents had supported your dreams. They drove you to each of your games and training, and helped pay for you to go to an academy. They helped you get to your national camps, made and packed nutritious food for you, and supported you in each and every way that they could.
You stuck to your dreams and overcame so many challenges to get to where you were. You’d learned from the best, had run into injuries, had laughed with friends and had lost those friends as they’d given up the dreams that all of you had had. You’d thought about giving up, too, especially when your mother had been diagnosed with cancer.
She’d fought tooth and nail to stay alive, working hard to still help you become the best player that you could. She continued to support you with your father, up until the point where she was far too weak to continue doing so. She’d gone to every single one of your games, even when she felt sick or like she didn’t have the energy, and for that you were determined to make it worth it for her. Little did you know that watching you was your mother’s greatest pride, and she would not allow her sickness to keep her from supporting you.
And so you stuck to the sport, even when your friends did not, and it had all paid off in the end. In the summer, you’d signed for Barcelona Femení, the day after your sixteenth birthday. Your mother was there for your signing, beside your father. That day, she promised you that she would watch your first game with Barcelona no matter what.
She hadn’t made it that long, dying only a few days later. You’d taken the loss hard, but it was your father who had taken it the hardest. Your father had hardened in ways that you hadn’t anticipated, becoming cruel and harsh. He seemed to have given up hope, the bags beneath his eyes dark and puffy. 
He was a shell on the man that he’d once been, and it showed in the way he now treated you. After the loss of your mother, he’d drawn into himself and away from you, and you found yourself so much lonelier than you had ever been.
The team had been there for you, allowing you to take time off and letting you know that they had psychologists and people to talk to if you had needed it. It took you a week to return.
When you were finally mentally ready to move on and begin participating in training sessions, it was now your captain, Alexia Putellas, who drove you to practices. 
Your father no longer attended your matches, no longer worked hard to ensure that you got all the support that you deserved. Instead, he sat at home and mourned the loss of your mother. The truth was, you were both hurting, but you had to be strong in hopes that your father would soon bounce back.
He never did.
You hadn’t told any of your teammates, but the stress of the situation was getting to you. It showed in your performance and the way you trained in all of the worst ways. You were exhausted, emotionally and also physically as you had troubles sleeping at night. You wanted a hug from your mom, wished that she was there to tell you that everything would be alright.
But she wasn’t there, which was the entire problem, and she would never be able to do that again. 
And so things continued as they were for several months. The pressure grew onto you, far too much for your young shoulders to carry on their own, but you forced yourself to remain strong. You worked harder than you ever had in your life, attempting to be enough for your father and to try to make your mother proud as you’d promised her. 
Foolishly, you dreamed at night that you could bring your father out of the deep pit of depression he’d fallen into. Maybe, if you tried hard enough, he’d realize that you really were good at soccer. Maybe he’d wake up and realize that you needed him still, but the truth was that a part of him had died when your mother had, and you would never be getting him back. 
You’d basically forced him to come to your match, begging him for weeks on end to come to at least one. Ironically, it was the first time you were being trusted to start for your team as well. It was supposed to be a special match, commemorating everything that you and your parents had ever worked for.
You’d hoped that he would come out of his shell if he returned to a little bit of his old life. You’d been wrong, as the second you’d stepped into his car, he was throwing insults and critiques at you. 
He was nothing of the man you’d grown up with, and it hurt you like no other pain you’d felt in your life. Even breaking two bones in your leg at thirteen didn’t compare to the pain in your chest, hollowed out by month after month of loneliness and pain. You felt like your heart, once full of love, had been scraped empty of any positive emotion that it had once felt, and your father held the scalpel. 
You tried arduously to tune your father out, trying to focus on the positives of the match as your father drove. 
You’d won the game!
“You relied on the other defenders far too much to cover for your careless mistakes.”
You’d made an amazing tackle on a player who had skirted past Ingrid Engen! It had earned you a shower of applause from the watching fans and a proud peck to your forehead from Ingrid herself!
“You were too slow, you need to be faster, like Batlle.”
Alexia had told you that she was proud of you!
“You aren’t good enough for this team, God knows why they chose you.”
You weren’t aware of the tears which fell down your cheeks, and your father ignored them. You didn’t know why he was so intent on breaking you down after years spent building you up. You missed how life was before.
You missed your mom.
As your father pulled into the driveway of your childhood home, you hopped out. Before a sob could break free of your quivering lips, you were bounding up the steps to your room and closing the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, all of the emotions which had bubbled beneath the surface coming out in ugly, whiny gasps and cries. 
Your heart burned, as if scorched. You had never felt so empty, so dark, and so lonely. You wanted someone to hold you, and you didn’t know who to turn to anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, although you only managed to get a few meager hours of sleep before you were awoken by some recurring nightmare.
-----
You barely managed to drag yourself to training, exhausted. The dark bags beneath your eyes stood out starkly against your pale skin. You were dressed in a jumper and sweatpants, both of which used to be an appropriate size but which now hung off of your tired frame. 
As Alexia picked you up, she noted your exhaustion with a small frown. 
“Hola, chiqui. Estás bien?” Her voice held a certain concern which was almost enough to break down your walls. You yearned so badly for a sense of comfort, and the which Alexia looked seemed to offer that.
You forced yourself to turn towards the window, not wanting to break down in front of your captain. Your father’s words from the past few months wore heavy on your mind. You were a disappointment and a burden, and you didn’t want Alexia to tell Jona that the team didn’t need you and decide to release you. You wanted to be enough, and you had promised yourself every night that you would be better, you just needed a little bit more time. 
Alexia frowned harsher, nearly locking the car and forcing you to talk to her, but deciding against it. She didn’t want to push you, but she’d noticed that you weren’t okay for a while. 
She’d taken note of the way you always did extra laps and repetitions of each of their workouts. She watched you participate in extra opportunities to practice penalties and how you stood behind after each training for at least an hour to do more work. She knew you were exhausting yourself, could see it in the way you could barely stand. 
She didn’t understand why you pushed yourself so hard, given how good you were. She tried to give you advice, to compliment you whenever she could and saw how you absolutely beamed under any sort of praise or compliment, as though you didn’t get it enough. 
Over the last few months, she’d taken on almost a mentoring role to you. You looked up to her, and she could see how you held each of your teammates in such high regard. For whatever reason, however, it just didn’t seem to stick in your mind that you were of the same caliber as each excellent athlete within the team. 
As she watched you turn away from her, she realized she would need to confront you soon. It was obvious that you weren’t taking care of yourself, but she didn’t want to do it now, not when you were blocking her out as hard as you could. She would need backup, probably from the other captains of the team, and made a promise to herself that she would do it later that day.
Instead of confronting you like she yearned to do, she stayed quiet and allowed you your peace. She watched as, ever so slowly, your shoulders sagged and your body untensed. You’d fallen asleep, and Alexia turned the music down a little bit to try to make the atmosphere easy to sleep in. 
Alexia noticed how the harsh lines in your face relaxed as you slept. You looked more peaceful than she’d ever seen you. She hated that she had to wake you up as the two of you arrived at the training center. 
She parked as gently as she could before reaching over and gently shaking you awake. You groaned as she did so, almost turning away in such a careless, teenage way that Alexia had never seen you do. You always seemed so much more grown up than you were supposed to be, even more so than Claudia or Pina or Vicky, all of whom were older than you. 
“‘M not ready yet, Mom.” You rumbled, and Alexia froze, the frown on her face deepening. She’d tried to be there for you, having lost her own parental figure in her father. She knew the pain that you felt all too well.
 So not to be mistaken for the woman who you’d just lost, Alexia spoke up this time as she shook at you again.
“Despiértate, nena. We are here.” You startled awake, the barriers which had dropped as you slept appearing once more as your face tightened again, a frown set upon your face which mirrored Alexia’s.
You thanked her quietly before climbing out of the car, purposefully walking ahead of Alexia so that she couldn’t ask you any questions about your slip up.
You entered the locker room near-silently, the hood of your jumper up to cover the vast majority of your face. You ignored the looks you got from each of your teammates in favor of quickly getting dressed for training.
As you went to tie your shoes, you realized you were, yet again, crying.
You’re too emotional. Words of your fathers’. Your teammates wouldn’t like you if you showed emotion in front of them. You pushed the fabric of your sleeve against your cheeks, leaving red marks behind with how harshly you rubbed at the salty tears. 
Then, to try to remain inconspicuous, you bent over to tug your shoes on to your feet. You thought you were successful, but hadn’t anticipated how much you’d struggle with your laces. Your exhaustion mixed with your lack of breakfast had caused your hands to shake.
Each time you’d try to make a loop, your quaking fingers would pull too hard or drop the lace altogether. 
All of your teammates noticed your struggle, but it was Paños who stepped in. The older woman knelt down at your feet, hands wrapping around your own and holding them for just a second. Her eyes looked up into yours, noting the tear stains on your cheeks and giving you a comforting smile. 
Then, she refocused on your shoes and began to tie them for you. The rest of your teammates watched on anxiously, although they continued to prepare for training and tried not to stare. The truth was, everyone could see that something was going on with you and that you weren’t okay, but they were scared to upset you by saying anything. You already seemed too tiny and isolated and they walked on eggshells around you.
Each of your teammates yearned to be there for you, but they didn’t know you well enough to know how to be there for you. 
Paños finished with your shoes before standing, holding both of her hands out for you to take. She tugged you to your feet easily, one arm wrapping around you in almost a motherly manner.
The woman was usually seen joking with the younger kids, but with you she had taken a different role, like Ale. 
“Listos, nena?” The goalkeeper asked you, voice soft and comforting. Like Alexia, her voice nearly caused you to break down. You felt your shoulders shake beneath the weight of Sandra’s arm and resisted the urge to turn and hug her like you would have your mother.
You wanted comfort, but your father had convinced you time and time again that you didn’t need it and that you’d be a burden if you sought it out, and so you nodded and pulled away.
You walked out onto the field and began to stretch. You kept your head down, suddenly more numb than you’d felt in months. You ignored the way your stomach clenched with hunger and the way your head had begun to ache and sting from your lack of sleep, proper nutrition, and all of your crying. 
You didn’t look up, even as more of your teammates filtered out to join you. Claudia and Patri stretched next to you, trying to provide jokes for you to laugh at. They didn’t stop even as you didn’t react, continuing to try to cheer you up in the only way they knew how at the moment.
When a whistle sounded to signal the beginning of warmups, you stood instantly. Too fast, however, as your world tilted and spun around you. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever tried alcohol on your fifteenth birthday. 
An arm wrapped around your waist and you regained your balance against the firm body of one of your teammates.
“You okay?” You heard someone ask. Looking up, you caught the concerned glance of Ingrid Engen, who had also taken you under her wing when you’d joined the team. You nodded, pulling away from her, too.
So many people had touched you in the past hour, more than you’d had since your mother had passed away. You almost didn’t know how to react to all the comforting touches and glances, having not received them in so long. 
Ingrid watched on sadly as you walked away from her, the concern which swirled within herself increasing as she watched you wobble away. Ingrid had noticed how out of it you were, how tiny you had been in the clothes which had fit you a month ago. You were pale, more than normal, and the way you’d nearly passed out showed Ingrid that you were not fit to practice. 
The Norwegian caught Alexia’s gaze from across the yard, shaking her head at the Spanish captain to try to convey that you shouldn’t be training.
Sensing that something was wrong, Alexia began to make her way over to you. As she did so, however, your legs finally seemed to cave in from underneath you.
None of your teammates would ever be able to get the image of your crumpled figure on the turf as Alexia and Ingrid both ran to you. The rest of your teammates watched on as the medics were called over.
You were turned on your back by Alexia, one of her fingers touching at your throat as they attempted to find a pulse. It was thready and uneven, but there, and Alexia wanted to cry. She cursed herself for not confronting you sooner, more worried than she remembered ever being as the medical staff pushed her back to give your crumpled form more room.
Alexia had been the one to recommend you to the team, having attended one of your matches for Spain’s U17 match. You’d played up and had still outclassed so many of your teammates, a solid wall in the backline which your teammates depended upon. She’d seen the glimmer of excitement and determination in your eyes, one that you’d lost since the passing of your mother.
She felt like this was all her fault. If she had just spoken to you sooner and had investigated what was going on with you… then, maybe, you would have been okay. She felt as though she had failed you and her responsibilities as a captain to ensure your safety.
You’d become a skeleton of the incredible human that you’d once been, and had watched all the life drain from you while being unable to do anything about it. As you were placed upon a cart to be carried off the field, however, Alexia promised that she would be there for you.
You were wasting your life away, and Alexia was determined to figure out why.
-----
You awoke in a dimly illuminated room, your throat dry and your eyes feeling like they’d been doused with sand. You groaned, attempting to lift your hand as you slowly game through to try and brush at your forehead. You felt cold and sticky all at once– you didn’t feel well at all.
Your hand was caught on something, and you attempted to bat at it only to have your hand caught by something else. As the room slowly began to swim into your vision, you caught the familiar brown eyes of your captain. 
“Hola, capi.” You rasped, and Alexia’s concerned face brightened ever so slightly, a small smile gently pulling her lips upward.
“Hola, chiqui. Como estás?” Alexia inquired, her voice far gentler than you’d ever felt.
“Not very good,” You whispered honestly, feeling like shit. You were tired of fighting, tired of feeling like you weren’t enough. You were ready to be honest about how you felt, no matter if the people around you would stop loving you as your dad promised that they would. “What happened?”
“You passed out.” This voice was different, coming from your left. Slowly, your head fell sideways and you caught the glance of Ingrid. The girl looked more worried than you ever had seen her, and you felt truly terrible for worrying the older woman. 
“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say to that. You knew that you hadn’t been feeling very well for a long time, but you’d been too scared to mention it to anybody but your father. The man who was supposed to keep you safe had failed you in all ways possible, but you didn’t see it that way.
You felt like you weren’t enough and that it was you who had failed, and that you didn’t deserve comfort or love because of it.
Alexia sat up, the motion causing your gaze to come back to her.
“Do you want to tell me why you haven’t been taking care of yourself?” Alexia speaking English took you by surprise. You supposed that it shouldn’t have been that surprising, but you knew that the girl seemed to almost avoid speaking the language. Her voice was still low, comforting, and still worked at lowering your barriers ever more.
You had to resist the urge to throw yourself in her arms and blubber like a baby. You reminded yourself that they would remove you from the team, that they wouldn't accept you, that they would see you as weak.
However, the way Alexia held your hand, her grip comforting and sure, made you think that… maybe… your dad was wrong. Maybe they did care. 
“I…” you hesitated, and felt someone put a hand on your shoulder. Glancing over, you realized that Paños was there, too. You caught her concerned gaze, the small smile on her face, and heard her tell you that it was okay. 
It was then that you realized, all of the adults that you trusted most in the world, that made you feel better when you were at your worst, were there for you. They were here for you when you were lower than your lowest, and if they hadn’t left when you’d fallen on your face on the field, then they wouldn’t leave now. 
That thought gave you the courage to tell the truth, and so you did. 
The girls listened throughout your story. You told them how low you felt, how scared you were. You told them that you missed your mom, but so did your dad. You told them that he’d become a shell of the man he’d once been, that he’d become cruel and harsh– everything that your dad was not. The girls’ faces were stormy, but still they worked to comfort and reassure you in every way that they could.
By the end of your retelling, you were crying, but so were they. 
You were utterly exhausted as a yawn broke through, revealing your exhaustion to the other girls. It was Alexia who spoke first, frowning at you.
“We are here for you, no matter what. We will fix this.” Her words were hard, but not harsh. They were a promise, one that you trusted. “Sleep, we will be here when you wake up.”
“I’m okay.” You retorted. Truthfully, you were terrified. You were scared that they would leave after trusting them with the information and words that had burdened you for months, just as your father had promised you.
Sensing your nervousness, Alexia gently slid up and onto the bed, taking her time and giving you plenty of room. 
As soon as the older woman had sat herself up, careful of the IV in your hand, you moved. You buried yourself against her, an arm wrapping around her back as your face buried itself in her shoulder. Alexia, ever so carefully, wrapped her arms around you in return. 
She pressed a warm, careful kiss against your forehead, and allowed you to cry into her shirt. She did not care about the way your tears wet the material, reassuring you in a spattering of both English and Spanish words. Ingrid and Sandra stepped out to give the two of you privacy, although they would be back for you. They would never leave your side, not now that they knew what you’d been going through.
Alexia continued to hold and comfort you in the ways that you’d yearned for months, her touch gentle. 
That was how you fell asleep, and how you woke up hours later. Despite the amount of time you’d spent in the spare room of the training center, Alexia had stayed. She had not allowed anybody to wake you up, having come to the conclusion that she would never allow your father to speak to you ever again. 
That night, she took you to her home, which she shared with her girlfriend, Olga. There, they cared for you.
Alexia made sure that you spoke to a therapist, and that you never saw your father again. She supported you in the ways that you deserved, and in the ways that you'd lacked since your mother had passed away.
Slowly but surely, Alexia saw you return to the kid that you’d once been: determined, carefree, and stronger than you’d ever been. 
Freed from the confines of your father’s sorrow, you were able to soar. You rose to levels of success that you’d only ever been able to dream of, and you stayed true to your promise.
You made your mother proud.
529 notes · View notes
vanillaberrychills · 2 days
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best friend Simon who is too shy to say anything so he js stares with the puppy eyes
the wholr 141 making fun of how soft he goes and he turns into a pile of blushing when fem!reader lays on his lap because she wanted to be comfortable (in her head, it was obviously flirting. in his, it was platonic.)
from best friends to lovers I was born and best friends to lovers I live by
cw: xx
an ;; not proofread
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— Love. Love, love, love, love. How could he not see it? To you, you made your love and admiration for Simon so evident, you would practically paint it across your face with a pleasant smile and a giggly tone every time the two of you spoke.
There were times you could've swore he felt the same way, coming back from missions with pretty rocks, unique ones with an assortment of colors, the type of man to leave with a little block of wood and a pocket knife and return with a little animal carving for you to keep. Always so bashful about it too, saying he just got bored and didn't care to keep it.
You were utterly in love with this "carelessness". Whatever it meant, to be careless and speak soft conversations late at night, only the light of your cellphones as you both patrolled, talking about whatever happened throughout the day.
Part of, the heartbroken, always hopeful part, was devastated by his awkwardness when you brought up the idea of love, the idea of being together. He would maybe avoid your gaze, grumbling something like, "Just think those things are a waste of time, s'all."
Your heart would shatter, you'd laugh, nod your head, and move on. You were convinced Simon didn't love you.
Though, everyone else knew just so much better. Particularly, his captain, Price. You didn't directly work with 141, mostly just being a sweet scribe that worked with multiple different squads however each time you came to work with 141, Price would chuckle, shake his head a bit. Muttering, mostly to himself, "Ah, Ghost is gon' love this."
Call yourself clueless, but you didn't quite get it. How Simon would be practically stun locked when you would giggle at his dry personality, get a bit touchy feely when you had to assist him with gearing up. You'd give him those big eyes when he brushed off your little words of sweetness, wondering why your compliments weren't working on him, and why he would practically shove you out of a room just to talk to you in private. Was he embarrassed of you?
Not at all. Rather, Simon was so damn soft for you, sometimes Simon would make a point of needing help putting on equipment just so you could assist him. Pay more attention to him than the others. It was quite clear you were something special to him, clear to everyone except you.
Even when some lower ranking recruits and soldiers referred to you as the lieutenant's girl, you took it as them teasing you. And of course, you'd probably mention it to Simon only for those soldiers to return with a bumps across their head and a barrage of apologies.
Johnny particularly had a blast making Simon squirm with you around. Always teasing you with slight jabs such as, "Aye, lassie, when ye're done clappin' those hands o'er Ghost's muscles, could ye give me a rubdown next?" At Johnny's words you would spark up with flustered emotions, ripping your hands off of Simon and robotically approaching Johnny. Grumbling about how "Mr. Mactavish" was jumping to conclusions.
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"Friends with feelings" - Luke Hughes x Reader
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Summary: In which forgetting a glass of water before bed might just be the best thing you've ever done. Based on this blurb.
Warnings: Kissing, a lil ass grabbing, alludes to self-pleasuring, mentions of abs, nipples and pretty curls.
A/N: Hi! It's been a while since I've written a longer fic (it's 5.5K words, that's a lot for me HAHA) like this, and I would be sososososo very appreciative of any feedback at all<3 Also, I've written Luke slightly differently than I usually do, a little bit more cocky and confident and probably a bit more like how he'd be with his actual friends/ a girl he's liked for a while and is close with, but anywassss, I hope you enjoy! __________________________
Usually, you like to think you're a person with little to no regrets, always finding a way to appreciate the memory or use the situation as a valuable life lesson.
Not bothering to go downstairs and get a glass of water before you got into the air mattress on the floor next to Jess, your best friend and designated roommate for the week, though? That's probably the biggest regret of your life. Or, at least that's how it feels when you wake up at two-thirty in the morning, mouth dryer than the Sahara (the effect of a few too many beers and cups of Pink Whitney trying to exit your system, no doubt). The last two days have mostly consisted of varying types of drinking; day drinking, night drinking, drinking games, you name it, but that also always seems to be the case when your college friend group meets up over summer break.
This year, Luke Hughes, despite not actively being in college anymore but still a valued member of the friend group, has so graciously been allowed to borrow his big brothers' lake house for the week, saving your group money on an Airbnb and the struggle of finding something big enough to accommodate ten people. Despite not having enough rooms for everyone to get their own (hence the air mattress and the sharing of a room with four girls), the lake house is by far better than whatever cramped shoebox of a house Mark and Ethan managed to book you into last year.
Truth be told, you were thankful for Luke even asking his brothers in the first place, especially since you had been walking around with a slight fear of not getting to see him this summer, considering the whole NHL-Star-Rookie-Thing. You and Luke had always had a weird thing going on, good friends, maybe slightly more but also...not?
 The youngest Hughes had never made a move on you, despite people telling you on multiple occasions that he "definitely has a thing for you" and that "it's obvious you like each other". And sure, you hadn't chanced your luck either, too worried about a possible rejection, that people were overanalyzing his feelings and it all would end up one awkward mess you would then have to navigate on top of your broken heart and bruised ego.
So, Luke and you stayed just friends until his inevitable departure to the big league, your daily coffee meetups now replaced by the occasional call or Facetime.
 Despite the inconsistent calls, your string of texts never seemed to waiver.
 Luke telling you about the smallest, seemingly insignificant, updates in his life, you complaining about school and the dad-joke competitions, all came together to silence the voice inside your head yelling at you that he'd forget you into nothing more than the faintest of whispers.
Nevertheless, it's nice to see him again, to hear his voice and his laugh, and to see his smile in real life and not through a tiny pixelated screen. The way you had fallen straight back into your old rhythm is nice too, if you're being honest.
Combined with the presence of your other most precious friends, the amazing weather and having the big lake house all to yourselves, you can't be happier about how great this summer is going.
Well, except for one teeny, tiny, insignificant thing: seeing him again made you realise your feelings for him hadn't disappeared one singular bit, as you have otherwise spent months trying to convince yourself and your friends off. Every touch, laugh, look into his eyes and comments from your friends about how "close the two of you look" disguised as friendly banter throws you off your game, making you nervous and self-conscious about how much your feelings are showing and if he notices. You're still debating with yourself if you want him to or not.
But that is also a lot of deep thoughts considering the time of the night, and as five minutes of laying wide awake turn into ten (mainly contemplating the pros and cons of getting up), you finally decide to do something about your predicament. You're hardly going to be able to fall back asleep now anyway, the dryness of your mouth combined with the constant quiet psst of the air slowly leaking out of the mattress beneath you and thoughts of your crush coming together in a lovely way of torture you like to call sleep deprivation.
Pushing the duvet aside and trying to make the least amount of noise as you rise, you decide to forgo the effort of putting any additional clothing on besides your oversized t-shirt and panties (because, really, who would be up at this hour?) and walk on your tippy toes towards the door. Slow, slow, slowly you turn the golden knob, freezing instantly when a loud click echoes throughout the otherwise dead silent room.
"Where are you going?" Jess mumbles, face pressed into her pillow, making the voice slightly incoherent.
"Water," you whisper back, hoping to not wake any of your other friends, could you help it. A brief pause leaves you wondering if Jess is even actually awake, but then her sheets rustle and she hums. After a few seconds, a mumble meant to sound like Bring me some comes from her general direction, your best friend no doubt already crossing back over the border to dreamland before the sentence is fully out. You nod in confirmation, not sure why considering she can't see you in the dark, and once more move slowly and quietly when opening the door.
The feeling of success from not waking anyone else doesn't last long, though, replaced by remorse of not at least finding some socks. Silently cursing the Hughes Brothers and trying not to yelp as your feet leave the warm fluffy comfort of the guest bedroom and are instead met by the cold hardwood floor of the hallway, you try to navigate your way to the kitchen through the still-unfamiliar house.
 Despite it being your second night here, the layout of the upstairs interior still confuses you, even more so in the dark, and it takes you a while longer than it would in daylight to find the correct staircase. Which, by the way, seems a ridiculous thing to even have. What house, what people need not one, not two, but three whole staircases? It's like those idiots (affectionate) want their guests to get lost.
 You're still grumbling about the absurd amount of staircases when you turn the corner into the huge eat-in kitchen, foregoing turning on the lights, and your faux annoyance only fueled by the water glasses of course having to reside in the top cabinet. The poor brothers receive a string of new curses.
Ever the problem solver, you swing one leg over the white marble counter, plant both hands on the cold stone, pray the limited hours in the gym working on your biceps could just be a little help, and count to three before hoisting yourself onto the counter. With it taking far more effort than you're proud of, your knees hit the marble, the wood of the beige cabinets scratching against your palms as they close around it for balance. So far so good.
 Despite a fair amount of wobbling, you manage to grab a glass, choosing the one looking most like it will help bring your ice-cold-water-chug-in-the-middle-of-the-night desires to life.
 "I was planning on asking if you need help, but this is far more amusing to watch," a voice brings you out of your deep concentration on your mission, startling you and having your neck turning so fast a whiplash almost sounds. Your mouth drops open, eyes going wide and cheeks heating up faster than the new induction stove your mom was recently raving about to you.
Because there Luke stands, not only proving your nonchalant dismissal of anyone being awake wrong but also making you incredibly aware of a few things you'd like to change at this very moment. Like the fact you're currently perched on top of not his, but his brothers' marble counter, gripping a glass like it's a precious painting stolen from a gallery. Or maybe like how his stare, amused and holding your own, ever so often dipping down a few inches, reminds you how you aren't wearing pants. With that realisation, you drop your arms, hoping the t-shirt is long enough to provide you with some sort of modesty. A sort of half-smirk paints his lovely face, eyes shining with amusement, as he leans against the archway into the kitchen.
Mouth opening and closing a few times, you try your best to come up with something witty, anything to not let it show how his mere presence in the room affects you - or how you feel a little guilty for sneaking around in the middle of the night, despite his instance of make yourselves at home!
"How long have you been standing there?" you land on instead.
 A hint of accusation laces your words like he's the one who should be ashamed in this situation.
Luke cocks his head to one side, sleep-riddled messy curls bouncing a little at the motion, drawing your attention to them and the way you would really, truly, like to run your fingers through them. They've grown to the perfect length since he sent you a picture of the fresh cut earlier this summer, still holding the mullet form but longer overall, only adding to his attractiveness.
 "Long enough to watch you calculate how to climb the counter," you jump at his words, not having noticed how he's slowly been stalking towards you, now across from you, leaning against the island parallel to the counter you still reside on. Crossing his arms over his chest, Luke carefully watches as you gently place the glass down next to you like this is the most intriguing yet amusing thing he's seen in a while. The remaining steps of the plan don't involve accidentally splintering a glass into tiny little pieces, so you're playing it safe, okay?
Deciding to ignore him, you focus on the next task at hand: getting off the counter. Or, at least turning around. You sorta manage to do it without much damage, the only victim a small pot with salt falling over after contact with your knee, leaving a trail of the white mineral on the blank surface.
"Not helping a damsel in distress isn't very gentlemanly of you," you say matter-of-factly once you've managed to manoeuvre around on the limited space, finally facing him without having to turn your neck in an uncomfortable direction.
 Luke simply shrugs at your words, his chain, one you gifted him, you realise with gleeful pleasure, catches in the moonlight shining through the window, in return making your breath catch in your throat. It has you questioning if he's been wearing it since Christmas when you gave it to him, or if he just recently thought to put it on. Maybe to make you think he enjoys the present, wearing it in your presence and all. Or perhaps, it's been a permanent fixture around his neck since the cold months?
 Could the silver jewellery be joining him at games? On road trips, in the shower, in his bed- electricity shoots through your mind as it wanders too far, conjuring up images of him in bed, but soon turning sour at the thought of him sharing those sheets. The green monster inside you jolts awake, clawing at its bars, begging to be let out and riot at the thought of him with another girl. Somehow, some way, you manage to silence it, throw on some extra locks and throw away the keys.
If Luke wants to sleep with other girls, he can. Now, that's a bitter pill to swallow, but nevertheless, the reality is that he can do anything he wants. After all, he isn't yours.
 He could be, Holden the Hope whispers, caressing your mind with lovely images of shared confessions of love, kisses of adoration and tangling in sheets.
 Don't let flowers bloom in the false spring, Reese the Realism scolds, burning the images with a snap of her fingers.
"You're not a damsel," he finally says, clearing his throat like the words hurt him to sound out. Molten eyes meet yours, so green and distracting that you don't even notice yourself leaning forward, less than a centimetre, but enough to make the fun little thing called gravity suddenly decide it wants to play. Fate, or maybe just pure clumsiness, seemingly joins in, giving you the final push, and before you know it, your arms are flailing, your body unable to stop the descent towards the floor.
Strong arms move quickly, engulfing your waist and bringing you to a stop, steadying you against the counter with the added press of a body against yours. "Just in distress then?" your voice comes out breathy and unsteady, craning your neck to look up at him, the closeness of your bodies rendering you unable to do anything else if you want to see the self-satisfied smirk on his face, obviously proud of his heroic action and quick reflexes (thank you, hockey).
 And you do, gosh do you want to stare at any and all expression he makes for the rest of his, and your, life. "You had it under control," he drawls, noticing your body shaking at the same time you do. His first instinct seems to be to tighten his arms around you, muscles twitching at the motion. You hope your peeking isn't noticeable.
Instead of thirsting over your friend's arms, you try to focus on not shaking (the near-fall may have shaken you a bit more than you'll willingly admit), grounding yourself in the feel of the cold tile beneath your feet, toes scrunching to limit the contact. On the other hand, you can't help basking in the way Luke's body seems ten degrees hotter than yours, engulfing your body and sending heat throughout it- okay, maybe that isn't the best thing to focus on either.
"Yeah, until I fell."  "Can't all be perfect."
A smile threatens to break free on your lips at the lighthearted banter returning to your conversation, willing you out of your Luke-induced haze and giving you enough strength to push him away with a soft palm flat in the square centre of his chest. Mentally, push him away, that is. Physically, it would have been impossible without his compliance.
A funny look flashes briefly across his sharp face, something looking a lot like disappointment, but the likelihood of you misjudging that is high. The mop of curls dances once more as he shakes his head, letting that gorgeous lopsided grin out of its box and completely disarming you. The executive board of directors in your brain forces you to look away.
"Why are you up, anyways?"
 The inquiry brings you back to your briefly forgotten quest, having you spring into action, hurriedly turning to locate the abandoned glass. Luke snickers at your eagerness but stays silent, awaiting your answer.
"Getting water, overthinking," you explain, keeping it vague, as you turn the tap to cold and wait for it to forget its previously warm preference. The stark sound of running water fills the otherwise quiet kitchen and even quieter house, and you internally wince, hoping it doesn't wake anyone up. You'd be lying if you said that hope doesn't stem from a bit of selfishness, quite like the way this little meet between Luke and you is panning out. Like a little pocket in time, it's almost as if anything goes, anything can be said and maybe, just maybe, anything can be done.
"You?" You interrupt him just before he opens his pouty mouth and asks just what you're overthinking exactly.
 So, maybe not everything can be said, you think, suddenly finding yourself not fully prepared to take the embarrassment of telling him he's a part of the whole not-sleeping thing.
Luke's eyes flicker away as you bring the now-filled glass to your lips, fixating on a spot above your head, suddenly very interested in the cabinet you have yet to close. A few seconds pass before he deems it safe to look at you once more (criteria? unknown) and answers your inquiry.
"Was wondering why a robber would be yelping each time they take a step down the hallway, needed to see I would have to defend the house," he teases, immediately bringing a pout to your face and getting you defensive. Placing the glass back down on the counter with a thump, you close the distance between you and press your pointer finger into the middle of his chest.
"Hey, you guys keep this house concerningly cold!"
 Luke catches your hand in his before your finger can do any more damage to his chest, all amusement flickering out of his eyes as quickly as a gust of wind passing by a fickle flame.
"Yeah..." he trails off, eyes moving downwards, like something's drawing his gaze in and he can't control it the moving of his pupils.
Suddenly, you find yourself acutely aware of the way your nipples have hardened from the low temperature, now straining against the thin material of your sleep shirt and you silently beg, plead and pray like a sinner about to enter hell, that he doesn't notice. Okay, who are you kidding here, he definitely does, he's practically making eye contact with them, but to his credit, though, it looks like he's trying really hard not to. Jaw clenching and unclenching, he almost manages to tear his eyes away each time he tries.
 Hopefully, he thinks it's just from the cold.
If you guys could stop standing attention just because he keeps looking, that would be great, you mentally scold, choosing not to dwell too hard on the fact that A) you're scolding your nipples and B) how Luke can't stop staring.
You decide it means nothing, part B, at least, (you should probably deal with the slightly concerning part A), because Luke is merely a boy and honestly, you should probably be concerned if he didn't stare. Yet, a tiny flicker of hope blooms in your chest, fueled even more so by the way he clears his throat a few too many times to be casual and lets go of your hand to drag his own over his face.
 Your wrist burns from where he held it, branded by him and his touch and god do you wish you could feel that brand everywhere.
Not sure where to go from here, you decide to put him out of his apparent misery and make light of the situation once more.
He almost beats you to talking, though, and your voices blend as you ask, "Well, you've established I'm not out to rob you. Going back to bed?" at the same time Luke asks "This my shirt?"
 You didn't realise it was his, or maybe you did and you didn't realise he would notice the plain fabric once belonging to him. You stole it way back at one of your first visits to his dorm.
"Don't think I can sleep now." "Yes."
Time stops and words seem to have different meanings, the lightheartedness you went for not having the desired effect, only adding to the tension slowly building between you, leaving the air hot and heavy. You're not sure what the change is this summer, and if your mind wasn't currently clouded and preoccupied with having him so close and looking at you like that, you'd probably reason your way into it being the fact you had been a part for months. Seeing him again has surely unlocked a part of your heart, the part wanting to throw caution to the wind and finally feel what it would be like to not be just friends. Seemingly, hopefully, a similar part has been unlocked in Luke's as well.
Summer being his best season didn't help your case either. Luke always looks more relaxed in the warmer months, healthier and more vibrant, the tan he so quickly manages to obtain has you wanting to lick him all over, the sun practically dripping from his skin and his curls, your favourite curls, looking their best. You never fail to notice his happiness in the off-season either. Sure, he loves hockey and he loves playing it all season, you know that, but he's also confessed to you on multiple occasions that the pressure gets to him, residing just under his skin like a rash never quite going away.
Here, at his brothers' lake house, surrounded by his favourite people, he laughs more, smiles more and reminds you more of the boy you knew in those very first few months of your college career. Summer Luke is the real Luke, your Luke and the Luke you so desperately want to pull close and kiss silly.
Yet, it's also the Luke in front of you now, confident and with all the power in his hand, as he, at once, brings you back to your previous question and both of your apparent dilemmas of not being able to sleep.
"I'd challenge you to a game of ping pong to get us tired, but you tend to get loud when you get worked up."
 White, hot flashes of embarrassment fill you up from the inside out, wondering if he's alluding to yesterday's weak moment of self-pleasure. You had allowed yourself it after seeing him shirtless on the boat wakeboarding, the motions making his hard abs twist and turn deliciously, droplets caressing his stomach and- "losing, I mean..." he clarifies, the smirk on his face making a return, hinting that he may or may not know exactly where your mind went just then. He had definitely heard.
Seemingly deciding to cut you some slack, Luke offers you an out. "What do you usually do when you can't sleep?"
 It doesn't help, not at all, because now you're thinking of your usual way of tiring yourself out, and that looks a lot like what he apparently heard you doing last night. The pink on your cheeks deepens to a healthy red and Luke no doubt notices, judging by the small grin appearing on his face. You huff out a nervous laugh, one that quickly dies out as a yawn stretches over Luke's face. He wipes it off, or at least tries to, by bringing a hand to his mouth. The motion makes his shirt rise the tiniest of bits, just as you open your mouth to speak.
"Usually I'll try to distract myself, try to get my brain to stop working overtime," you say, eyes finding a life of their own, drifting down to the peak of skin between his plaid pyjama pants and white t-shirt. That would make for a nice distraction.
"Are you still drunk?" your face scrunches up in confusion at his words, the change of subject catching you off guard. Turning your head, you search his face with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out his angle. "No, it wore off a few hours ag- oh," you cut yourself off as the counter hits the top of your ass, not even having noticed Luke backing you into it until he's right there. Caged in, you once more have to tilt your head to stare at his pretty face. The intense look he's giving you leaves you stumped, lips parting slightly- maybe in a silent invitation. At this point, your brain has switched off, his closeness and the way his cologne overpowers your senses leaving you completely at his mercy.
The little people in your head seem to have taken over your actions, leading you like a puppet on a string and you don't mind. Not when Luke moves his hand to rest on your hip and the other on the column of your throat and they allow him.
Not when they move your hands to rest on his broad chest, his heart pounding against your hands and letting you know he isn't as unaffected as he appears.
Not when he leans down and hovers over your lips and they don't make you pull away. Luke's hot breath mingles with yours and you can almost feel the way he's holding himself back, letting you decide if you want this. In the end, you regain control from your puppeteers, rising to your tiptoes, just that last bit needed, and meet Luke's soft lips.
It's like the restraint he's been having over himself snaps, the hand on your hip tightening and bringing you close, close, closer until he's got you completely caged between him and the counter. You get braver too, your fingers finding the curls you've been so desperate to touch. As you tug ever so slightly, Luke lets out a gasp and you can't help but use the opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth.  
A thousand tiny explosions go off in your body, angels sing and the sun comes out behind the dark clouds. Too cheesy? Perhaps, but it’s like your world is clear again, your focus turning sharp and honing in on Luke, his touch (soft, urgent, guiding), his taste (mint, did he brush his teeth before coming down here?) and the delicious way his teeth are tugging on your lower lip.  “Been waiting…so…long,” breathy words tumble out through breathy kisses, Luke's confession spreading warmth throughout your whole body. Sure, you are putting two and two together just from the heavy make-out session you’re currently partaking in, but either way, it’s nice to know that it isn’t just you who has been harbouring the very same desire. 
Taking you by surprise, Luke grabs ahold of your shirt and in one swift motion lifts you onto the countertop so you’re both in a more comfortable position. His big hand slides up your thigh and under your shirt, stopping just over your panties. Hesitantly, Luke pulls away from your lips to look you in the eye, removing his other hand from your waist in favour of running it through his hair. The messy curls fall all over the place, even though he tries to shake them out, and you can’t help but grin at the fact that you messed them up.
Reaching behind you to rest his hand on the counter, effectively caging you in, Luke opens his mouth to no doubt ask for permission to move his hand higher. The words yes, god yes are on the tip of your tongue, but instead of sticking to the script, Luke yelps out instead. His eyes go wide, quickly shooting to his hand beside you before an annoyed expression overtakes his face.
"Salt," he mumbles into your lips, already on them again like he just can’t help himself. Reaching under your shirt, you guide his hand higher, silently letting him know it’s okay. Your whole body feels on fire with the way he’s touching you, thumb swiping over your underboob, goosebumps erupting in its wake. If you could stay like this forever, you would, with no hesitation. It feels like you’re sinking, deeper and deeper into the abyss that is Luke Hughes. The harness is off and you’re barrelling straight to the bottom with no regard for your safety. But that’s just the thing; you feel safe. So very safe with the way Luke is touching you, kissing you and wordlessly assuring you that he’s got you. Forever, if that’s the case.
Unfortunately, the universe isn’t a fan of forever. Or at least, it just has a very poor sense of humour. Because just as you’re about to spread your legs a little more, let Luke in a little closer, the kitchen door bangs open. Two drunk idiots, otherwise known as your friends, tumble inside, arms around each other holding on for dear life, one more gone than the other. You would later learn they had been out and about crashing all the nearby house parties.
“Dude, I so could have taken him- what the fUCK?” Mark screeches when he notices Luke and you, who just barely manage to tear your lips apart before Ethan straightens himself up and turns in your direction. 
And so a period of awkward silence and confused glances begins. Mark and Ethan are not quite sober enough to put the evidence presented before them together, their brows drawn together in funny angles. Mark lifts his hand and motions between you and the boy still pressed to you, now just with his back facing you. Probably to spare your friends from seeing you in just your panties, you realise and just like that, your heart turns to mush. You sneak your hands around his waist and prop your head up on his shoulder. Luke leans back into you, hands going to your knees, as he levels Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum with a warning look. 
Never one to let his friends off easy, though, Ethan flashes a megawatt grin before copying Mark’s actions.  “What’s going on here?” 
“Late night snack.” “Luke had something in his eye.”
Silence. Luke’s hands squeeze your knees, you press your eyes closed. Surely they would catch on.
Then, a slow nod from a contemplative-looking Mark and a slap to Ethan’s chest as the blonde’s too-talkative mouth starts to open once more. “Sure, have a good night, guys!” Mark rushes out, a firm hand on Ethan’s shoulder guiding his friend out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their room. There’s no way Mark believed that lie (your suspicions would later be confirmed when you walk past their room and hear him explain how it “would make no sense since the lights were off”) but as Luke lets out a deep sigh and turns around, you can’t find it in you to care. 
The second he’s fully facing you again, his hands come up to rest on either side of your head, pressing a soft, much sweeter and slower, kiss to your awaiting lips. As he pulls back, a different Luke stands before you, all traces of his previous confidence leaving him, nervousness taking over as he brings a hand up to the back of his neck. Your favourite crooked smile returns, but this time filled with awkwardness and uncertainty. 
“Would you, um- Would you want to go out with me? Tomorrow, maybe? Or later today, I guess, considering the time and all-”
“Yes, god yes,” You say, finally getting the chance to voice the words, immediately getting flashbacks to a mere ten minutes ago when they had been on the tip of your tongue and his hand had been under your shirt. At your agreement, confident Luke returns, not wasting any time before he’s diving back in for your lips.
Half an hour later, you’re standing in your bedroom, leaning up against the door. Touching your fingers to your lips, no doubt a dazed expression on your face, you will your heart to stop galloping like a thousand wild horses. Maybe, if you pinched yourself- nope that just hurt. Luke kissing you in the kitchen hadn’t been a dream and neither had it been when he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and then your forehead, only a mere minutes ago. You had said goodnight with the promise of seeing him when you’re both well rested. When you asked him about the upcoming date, he only smiled and told you it was a surprise. You do not doubt that the speculation will keep you up for at least another few hours. Or perhaps that will have more to do with you replaying every kiss and touch over and over in your head.
“Did you get me water?” A voice croaks out in the darkness, duvets and sheets shifting loudly in the silence. Water, Jess. You had completely forgotten. 
"Shit, I’ll be right back," you promise, this time determined not to get swept up in stolen kisses.
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gi4hao · 2 days
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☆ SEVENTEEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A BAD DAY (hip hop unit)
— pure fluff! (some mentions of food)
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— SEUNGCHEOL
• he lets you cry and cry and cry in his arms until you physically cannot produce any more tears
• his hands are softly stroking your back as he lets you vent about your day
• “i’m so sorry you had to go through all that baby” he tells you when you’re done, placing a kiss on top of your head as he lets you cuddle as close to him as you need to
• definitely tells you to let him take care of you that evening, because he wants your day to end on a better note
• and he 100% means it: he pampers you like royalty, giving you his undivided attention and nothing less
• you feel like taking a bath? you’ll have one with scented bubbles and candles. you feel like going for a walk to clear your head? he’ll go with you and hold you close the whole time.
— MINGYU
• so so so supportive
• the moment you get back home, he’s already waiting for you with his arms wide open, ready for you to collapse against his chest
• definitely listens to you rant about the people that upset you that day, all while cooking a hearty meal for the two of you
• i think some of his bubbliness would definitely rub off on you, and he’s kind of counting on that to make you feel better
• because it’s hard to stay upset when your boyfriend keeps peppering kisses all over your face, all while looking at you with the kindest eyes on earth
• he just wants you to be surrounded by happy things overall. whether it’s by showing you a cute puppy he saw on tiktok or sharing the latest gossips he got from the members, he thinks it’s important to take your mind off of whatever’s weighing you down
• and when you thank him for always being your happy place, his heart does a little jump that fills him with nothing but pure love
— WONWOO
• he’s probably already comforting you over text during the day. he hopes his little messages to check up on you can bring you a bit of comfort (they do)
• he makes sure to get home a little earlier to do some chores so that you don’t have to stress about that as well
• and yes he’ll definitely let you cuddle for as long as you want if that’s what you need when you come home
• he’ll even let you play with his hair if it helps you relieve the tension (which also benefits him because he gets to admire you up close, something he loves to do)
• the next day, he leaves a post-it note on your bathroom mirror for you to read when you wake up
• it’s something along the lines of “had to leave early but don’t forget i love you + there’s an iced coffee in the fridge and a muffin on the table <3”
— VERNON
• an amazing listener, for sure. no matter what kind of emotion you’re feeling, he’ll patiently listen for as long as needed
• but he’ll speak up if you start to talk in a self-deprecating way, reminding you of how amazing you are and how proud of you he is
• “i’m not letting these thoughts take up too much space in your brain” he tells you, handing you yet another tissue to wipe your nose with. “which is why i think the smartest thing to do tonight would be to watch a really, really dumb movie. what do you think?”
• you gladly accept, of course. because nothing can comfort you the way vernon and a silly movie can
• and that night isn’t like your usual movie night, when the two of you are just lazily slumped on the couch with random snacks on the table
• this time, he goes all in: pop-corn, a nice blanket to keep you both warm, his comfiest hoodie (for you to wear of course), and most importantly: he lets you pick the movie!
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sunnyaelia · 1 day
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Anger and Regret
okay last one and I promise the next thing I post will be something freshly written again!!
request was this:
angst hurt/comfort request from tonight’s west ham game to cheer us up? 🙃 where reader and leah have been dating for some time but long distance, then reader just recently transferred to west ham and in the game against each other reader scored a hat trick putting west ham in the lead but leah is so angry (mostly cause it was her first time in the starting line up and she was disappointed) and she takes it out on the reader and reader is so sad cause she just wants her gf to be proud of her 🙃
Angst, comfort and happy ending all in one
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Leah was fuming, having had to helplessly watch from the sideline as West Ham tore them a new one in the second half. She had been feeling proud at Alessias goal that gave them the lead. So as she got taken off the pitch at half time she was slightly relaxing. That quickly changed when you got put on - her girlfriend and one of the newest signings for WestHam, along with Kristie.
Both of you had switched from the US teams to the WSL for your partners and were therefore quite close. You were good, easily getting offers from Arsenal when you announced your departure from your old club - but Arsenal was stacked when it came to attacking players and therefore you had chosen West Ham instead, not wanting to rot on the bench. Leah hadn’t been too happy at your choice though she accepted it of course and she couldn’t deny that you really brought some new drive into the club, your goals enough to keep the team far away from the threatened relegation. Your girlfriend had been unbelievably proud to see it - now though, she was less amused when you kept banging goal after goal into the net, right past Manus fingertips.
The genuinely impressed comment from Beth at your hat trick when it was 3:1 for WestHam at the end of the game did nothing to improve Leah’s mood in the slightest, incredibly upset with herself for not getting this absolutely crucial win. 
So, when later on in the tunnel you grabbed your girlfriends wrist wanting to both comfort her and also see her reaction at your hat trick, she pulled her hand back like she’d been burned. You were surprised at her next words, used to Leah being extremely competitive but usually she would just sulk and not get outright mean. 
“Came to gloat?” 
A frown on your face you tried to reach out for her hand again, only to be rejected once more as she took a step back.
“I didn’t want to gloat, I just wanted to check on you Leah.” 
“Yeah, well, I don’t need your pity.” 
Feeling the sting at how cold your girlfriend sounded you tried to remind yourself that she was a really sore loser and you had known that when you started dating her. This was nothing personal. 
“Leah come on, we aren’t threatening you that much, it’s just special that we were fighting for relegation and now we beat someone who’s in the top 3.” 
“Half our team has just recovered from an acl, it’s really not that special.” Leah’s voice had a bite in it that you really weren’t used to, your girlfriend usually super sweet and especially super proud whenever you’d score. 
You bit your lip, trying not to say anything to upset her further and nodded, eyes on the ground. 
When Leah didn’t say anything else you sighed, realising that it’d probably be better to go and celebrate with your teammates, Leah was definitively not in the mood to talk to you. “Guess I’ll see you later Leah.” 
She barely hummed and you tried to suppress your tears as you quickly walked to the bathroom, not wanting to break down in front of your new team. You had hoped that Leah would just concentrate on the fact that you had scored - a hat trick as well - and wouldn’t focus on you beating her beloved team. Seemed like she just couldn’t do that right now. 
Thankfully you managed to calm down enough that you could keep yourself from actually crying, definitely not willing to talk about the fight and your girlfriend’s treatment of you right now to anyone who would ask about your tears.
Walking into the changing room Kristie was one of the first ones to jump on you, nearly taking you to the ground. Everyone was talking excitedly, happy about beating Arsenal and now taking the ninth place and even though you were still disappointed and sad at how Leah had reacted, you made sure to put on a smile, not wanting to grab anyone’s attention.
Thankfully nobody had the time to celebrate since training was starting up again tomorrow and you were all exhausted, so you didn’t have to put on a happy face for too long, getting taken to your and Leah’s shared apartment by Kristie who wanted to visit Sam now anyway. 
You were glad when you were finally alone, Leah apparently not home yet. You took a shower and then just let it out, sobbing into your pillow. Sad about how the day had went, sad that you and Leah weren’t on the same team and were therefore not rooting for the same one, sad that Leah wasn’t able to just put the rivalry aside for once and be happy for you and sad that you scored a hat trick and instead of being happy it was now overshadowed by your girlfriends reaction. 
Meanwhile Leah was still in the changing room, having taken an eternity to shower and get changed and now slowly putting her last stuff in her bag. 
“Oi.” Katie appeared, having watched the game from the sidelines because of her last yellow card. “Where’s the missus?” 
“With her team.”
Katie didn’t seem to notice that something was up, happily continuing to chat. 
“Ya know, I’d be so proud if that was my girlfriend. Really signed someone good there. Sucks for us of course but at least now they should be save from relegation.” She opened the door and took a playful bow as Leah just marched through, wanting to get home and be alone finally. 
Leah was silently walking next to her as Katie continued to blabber, a bit lost in her own thoughts. 
Katie’s next words pulled her out it: “I’m happy you took it well.” She gave her a pat on the shoulder. “She moved here just for you, it’s nice that you two can healthily deal with one person winning and one person losing.” 
With that she bid her goodbye and was gone. 
As Leah sat in her car, the 20 minute drive home had her overthinking her earlier actions. If only Katie knew that she hadn’t put the rivalry aside at all. She had been quite mean about it too, cringing internally at how she had used the acls as an excuse. Speeding up slightly, she prayed that you would be home and hadn’t gone out with the team, wanting to apologise for her behaviour. 
You were indeed home, she discovered. But you were asleep, laying in your shared bed, a few tissues laying around and your eyes swollen, some tear tracks still visible on your face. Leah’s heart broke at the sight, feeling terrible at how she had treated you. 
So, determined to make it right once you woke up, she hopped right back into her car and to the flower shop, getting you a big bouquet. She also got your favourite ice cream and some food for breakfast tomorrow, knowing that she couldn’t cook to save her life but also not wanting you to do it after she had already ruined your day. 
Back home she checked on you quickly who was still laying there and sleeping peacefully. Leah removed the tissues around you and then placed water and an ibuprofen on the nightstand. You always got terrible headaches from crying and it looked like you’d been crying a lot so you’d probably need it. She had also placed two cooling pads in the fridge, knowing that you’d be annoyed at how swollen your eyes would be the next day. 
She was very careful when she finally slipped into bed next to you, the flowers in a vase on the table along with the plates already set for breakfast tomorrow. Gently,  so you wouldn’t wake up, she pulled you into her arms, giving your still stained cheeks a soft kiss before drifting off as well. 
The next morning your head was pounding, sitting up with a groan at the pain. You were surprised to find the water and pill on your nightstand, smiling softly at the sight of Leah with very messy hair next to you, glad that she had come home and apparently forgiven you for making Arsenal lose. 
You quietly got up and went to the bathroom, ready to assess the damage that the tears had caused. It was truly awful, you had cried on and off for a few hours, just letting the whole stress of this season out and the result was incredibly swollen eyes that still had a red rim along with blotchy skin.
You sighed, deciding to wash your face with cold water and then carefully dried it with a towel. Since your view was obstructed you nearly jumped a feet in the air when Leah’s hands suddenly wrapped around you from behind, pressing herself into you. 
Slowly lowering the towel from your eyes you met Leah’s in the mirror, her stomach turning at just how clear it was that you’d been crying. 
She buried herself into your neck, glad that you let her. 
“I’m really sorry for my behaviour, I truly have no excuse. And I’m terribly sorry that I made you cry, I really didn’t mean to.” 
Heart softening quickly at her words muffled into the embrace you leaned back into her more, twisting your neck so you could give her a kiss. 
“It’s alright. Just don’t let the rivalry get to your head next time, yeah?” 
Leah nodded though it looked like she was holding something back so with a slight furrow of your brows you turned in her arms and gently grabbed her face so she’d look at you. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Leah swallowed hard, eyes still avoiding looking at you while she spoke. 
“It wasn’t really about the rivalry, I just.. I’ve just come back from my acl and it already feels like all the pressure is on me. I see how people talk about Putellas and how she’s lost her touch after her acl and just isn’t that good anymore and I’m terrified that people are going to say this about me. It’s the first game that I’ve started in as captain since the injury and I just wanted to be good.” 
You frowned at her words. Your girlfriend was always quite hard on herself but you hadn’t realised just how bad it was. Gently pulling her into a hug, you tried to comfort her by rubbing her back before pulling away and answering her. 
“There’s always going to be someone who thinks you should have done better. Nobody who actually plays football and especially nobody who has ever done their acl will blame you for yesterday. It went great in the first half, you had the 1:0 lead and then you got subbed off and suddenly we were winning. That seems more like they shouldn’t have taken you off.” Leah chuckled at your words, feeling a lot lighter now that she had told you that she was scared. 
You gave her another hug, tightly squeezing her. 
“What someone online says really doesn’t matter. You need to stop looking at that stuff.” 
Leah nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath, relieved that it was out and relieved that you were not mad at her apparently. 
You stepped back slightly and offered her a hand: “Come on, I need an ice pack for my eyes and then I’ll make you breakfast.” 
Leah grinned before grabbing you around your waist and carrying you downstairs, ignoring you protesting and trying to squirm out of her grip, forever annoyed that your girlfriend could just easily take you wherever which she loved to do simply to get on your nerves. 
Placing you right in front of the fridge, she opened it, pulling out the almost done breakfast she would just have to reheat and the two ice packs for your eyes she had already put in yesterday for you. You smiled at her, softening at how your girlfriend had already known what you would need now. 
Your smile widened when she showed you the ice cream and then the already set table with the flowers on it, pulling her into a deep kiss as a thank you. 
Leah pulled away first, slightly breathless. “I’m sorry again. I’ll do better next time, I promise.” 
You nodded, though you couldn’t resist teasing her a bit: 
“Next time I beat your ass again?”
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rafesslxt · 22 hours
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neglected | mattheo riddle
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summary: Theodore completly ignores you and doesnt take it serious that you miss him while he flirts with another girl at a party.. so his best friend has to help you filling up that hole inside your … chest.
warning: cheating? but is it if he does it first?, mattheo eating out the reader, fingering, nipple play, teasing, dirty talk, getting caught, he‘s a munch don‘t fight with me over this -
note: i do not support cheating, this is just for the story
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— monday —
I don‘t know how many times I already begged but from time to time.. i felt more and more neglected.
"Theo, please just this one weekend! You had been busy with your friends and studying the last 3 weeks!" Yeah, 3 weeks since my boyfriend went on a date with me, had some quality time or touched me.
"Y/n I told you I don‘t have time. I already promised the boys I‘d come to the party. We‘ll see us there, I have to go study now, with Lydia." Before I could even say a word he left his dorm. I hear a chuckle coming from the other side of the room, making me turn my head in it’s direction.
"Told you you deserve better baby." Mattheo, Theodore‘s best friend said, sitting on his bed. They share a dorm and every now and then he would see Theo and me arguing.
I huff and leave the room, a aching feeling in my body.
— the next day —
"Theo please, I need you. You didn‘t touch me once the last few weeks." I whine into his ear, sitting next to him. He just groans, but not the way I want him to and gets up with his book in his hands. "Don‘t you see that you‘re distracting me?" Irritated he leaves the room, probably walking off to the library again.
Ugh.. i let myself fall back down onto the mattress and cross my arms over my face. Is it my fault? Did my body change somehow? Why the hell won‘t he touch me? But before I could continue my thoughts, I hear the door again, my head shooting up, hoping it is Theo who changed his mind but no, it‘s Mattheo. I groan frustrated and let my head fall back.
"Wow nice to see you too baby, but I think you‘re laying on the wrong bed." he says, teasing me.
"Sometimes I think like that too." I mumble into my arms and more to myself.
"What was that?" he asks. "Nothing."
— two days later —
Patiently I wait on Theo‘s bed, dressed all up.. or down, in his favorite lingerie set and a pair of black knee socks. When we got together half a year ago he told me he loved them on me, made my legs look even longer.
As the door opens my heart starts beating faster and I look up, shrieking and pulling the blanket over my body as I see who it is. "Damn mami is that for me?" Mattheo asks as he stand in front of Theo‘s bed with a smirk on his face, his mouth wide open.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked furious, not wanting him to see me like that. What If Theo comes in and would see us, what would he think?
"Last time I checked this is my room, sweetcheeks." "But you‘re supposed to have quidditch practice!" I whine and look for my clothes.
He chuckles and steps a bit closer as I stand up from the bed. "Could you turn around? I wanna get dressed." "No." "You are such a pain in the ass!" I roll my eyes at him and take my wand, mumbling "Colloportus“. and holding it towards the door so no one can come inside.
I let go of the blanket, thinking fuck it, and grab my skirt, pulling it over my legs and then my hips. "Did your cute little boyfriend leave you unsatisfied again?" he grins and takes a step closer. "You know.. I could help you with that." he says in a suggestive tone. "He’s your best friend Mattheo, stop this shit." "I can’t princess. Hurts me to see that pretty little body of yours, knowing how desperate it must be after all these weeks." he whispers the last part as he lets his fingers slowly brush over my arm, sending shivers down my spine. "See? It’s so hot for just a little attention." "No, it is cold, thats why." I say, swallowing down the clump in my throat as i nod towards the opened window.
Just as I wanted to reach down for my top, I see Mattheo getting down on his knees in front of me. He looks up and licks his lips. Damn.. something about a men on his knees for me made me feel slme type of way.
"Please let me touch your legs, please. Need to know how soft these pretty thighs feel." I could feel his warm breath against my skin, again, sending shivers down my… spine. wet pussy
"Mattheo get the fuck up I swear to god!" i hiss at him. Yes I closed the door with a spell but it wasn‘t really hard for everyone above first years to open it with a spell.
"Please, I swear If you let me just touch it I‘m gonna leave you alone for the rest of the week!" he pleads, looking at my face and then my legs. I sigh as I think about letting him. Damn was I really thinking about it? Am I really going to let my boyfriends best friend touch my thighs?
But I mean.. nothing’s wrong If I don‘t feel anything for it, right? Plus he would just leave me alone for a bit. "Fine." I press out.
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel his big warm hands on my thighs. "Shit.." he mumbles as he lets them wander up and down my legs. He slighty squeezes them, making me sigh in relief.
I feel his curls against my skin before I can look down and see him kissing my flesh, grabbing it with a bit more strengh now. I had to bite my bottom lip as he starts massaging them. Completly lost in thoughts, I realize too late what he was doing.
Suddenly he stands up and kisses my cheek "Thank you, doll.", before leaving the dorm and leaving me breathless in the middle of the room. As I slowly come back from the dizzy feeling inside my head I again, stretch over to get my top but gasp with shaky breathing as I see what Mattheo left on my skin.
A hickey. And a bite mark. I didn‘t even notice him biting my leg. Shit.
— Saturday —
To say i was pissed, while sitting on a chair in some corner of the common room, was a big understatement. Theodore and I arrived at the party he talked about a few days ago.. 2hours ago. I saw him drinking with his friends and playing truth or dare in a little group, always walking away from me as soon as I approached him. So I decided to stop chasing him.
"What are you doing here all alone sweetcheeks?" I look to my right and see Mattheo. Of course it was him. "Leave me alone." I say, rolling my eyes and looking back to my boyfriend, sitting beside this girl named Lydia. She was a year under us I think.
Mattheo followed my gaze and shakes his head. "Well , the deal was I would leave you alone till end of the week. The week is over." I don‘t even answer him, not in the mood to argue.
"Yeah thanks for the hickey and the mark between." i say sarcastically. "Yeah it‘s not like your boyfriend would see, right?"
I roll my eyes again and look back at Theodore, to see him standing up. What was he going to do? Suddenly I see him taking Lydia‘s hand, pulling her up with him and kissing her. In shock I opened my mouth, but instead of crying like i normally would, my face got red in anger.
I tried everything and here he stands sucking of the face of that stupid thot. In the middle of the common room? With the girl he "studys" all the time? I bet that’s not the first time they kiss. Mattheo seems to see it too and looks at me more serious now. "Hey.. are you okay? I mean he‘s not worth it If you - " but before he can continue I grab him at the collor of his shirt and drag him with me to his dorm.
— 30 minutes later —
"Oh fuck yes, Mattheo!" I moan into the air, pushing his head against me while his lips suck on my clit, his fingers pumping inside me. "Shit who would have known that you go this feral for my tounge huh?" he smiles and mumbles against my skin.
"Stop talking and continue!" I whine and push his head back. I hear him chuckle before he laps at my throbbing clit again. God If I would have known how good this feels I would have had ended things with Theo way sooner.
His free hand slides across my body up to my left boob where he started to tease my nipple. I gasp and push my hips up, arching my back. My body was so sensitive I wanted to cry out of pleasure everytime he touched me somewhere.
It didn‘t took me long before my body starts trembling and shaking, Mattheo licking everything up as I come on his tounge.
"I could get drunk on your pussy." he groans before kissing me, making me taste myself on his lips.
"I hope you‘re ready cause that pussy screams for me." he whispers against my lips before going down on me again.
A few minutes in I hear someone yell. "WHAT THE FUCK?"
My head shot up and I looked to the door where Theo stood, looking ag us with an angry face.
I saw Mattheo looking at him over his shoulder, smiling at him with glistening lips. "Hey men, hope you don‘t mind? We got the impression you were busy.. never mind – bro how could you not eat that pussy like.. all day?"
"I‘m gonna kill you, Riddle!"
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shorter than usual but I liked it 🌼
thanks for reading and supporting 🫶🏻
xoxo sarah <3
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lushafterglow · 1 day
Text
Bite Me
Chapter One -> who is she?
Paring: streamer Sukuna x influencer F!reader
Summary: A little Q&A video — sponsored by an AD company you did an Ad campaign with — blew up over night. Fans shipping you with your newly revealed crush, who so far appears as if he don’t even know you exist. Sukuna’s reaction to seeing your AD, did not help the shipping.
Masterlist
Warnings: cursing, dirty jokes, 5 year age gap
Taglist: (to be added just ask)
Series Masterlist
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You placed your camera and made sure all the lighting was good before clicking record on your go-pro.
Today you were talking about your new brand deal, and doing a little Q&A video that your fans had been requesting for, for quite some time.
You cleared your throat before you started talking, “hello it’s me, how are you guys today?”
You asked the camera knowing you won’t get a response back so you continued on. “Today we’ll be talking about my new brand deal and then doing a Q&A at the end of the video.”
You looked to your desk and grabbed your new make-up brand deal. “I have partnered up with Elf , and we made something so exciting. Well exciting for me and I hope for you.”
You showed the camera an eye shadow palette, eyeliner, and brushes.
“We have created an 18 color eyeshadow pallet, that has four highlighters inside.” You placed everything down and opened the pallet and grabbed your camera.
You showed the camera what the pallet looked like up close before putting the camera back onto its stand. “So 14 eyeshadow colors, and 4 highlighters. Let’s go over each highlighter first.”
You took your finger and picked up some product before swashing it onto your forearm.
“This fist one is call pink dahlia. It’s more of a nice light baby pink shade. As you can see lots of shimmer so that’s nice.”
You picked up the next highlighter and repeated. “Now this next one is kind of a chrome looking highlighter, and it’s called melody. Don’t ask why I choose these names.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the name as you spoke it. You like the name and thought it’s was pretty, your just now realizing you’ve already give two of four highlights a human name.
“The next one is one I’m really excited about, it’s a blueish purple highlighter! So if you look from one angle you can see the blue undertones.” You moved your forearm slightly. “And if you look at this angle you can see the purple undertones. I really like this one. Probably my favorite.”
You grabbed the final highlighter and showed you swashing it before speaking about it. “This one is called enchanted and it’s more of a tan-ish neutral shade and it’s really an easy go too.”
You grabbed a makeup wipe and removed the highlighters from your arms.
“Now there’s like 14 eyeshadows and I’m turning into a ulta worker at this point but I’m going to use my favorite colors and show you a look with the new brushes.”
You grabbed some eye shadow base before blending it out.
You grabbed a brush and started to show it to the camera before using it. “This one’s really freaking cool, because it has two sides. So I’m going to use one side for the eyelid and the other side to buff it all and blend it out better.”
You showed the brush up close to the camera before taking your eye shadow pallet and dipping into the the Smokey black shade. “This shade is called onyx.”
You tapped your excess power off and started to just place the black on your outer eyes. And the started to slightly blend it out.
“Now I’m going to grab this dark red and do the same and place it in the middle and blend it out gently into the black.” You did as you said and blended it out with a light hand and then went back in with some more of the black and blended it out a little, while giving it a bit more smoke.
Then you grabbed your make up wipe and made the cut sharp.
You grabbed the eyeliner next and with a light hand you applied it to your waterline, “something cool about this eyeliner is, one side is pencil while the other is liquid.”
You put it t down and showed the camera a view with your eyes close.
“Really nice, feels super light, no fall out, I really like this look, so i definitely recommend. Now I’m just going to finish my make up and I’ll be back to show you the finish look.”
When you started to record again your make up was finish and you had pull out a list on your phone of questions asked.
“This is the finish look, and I have thirty minutes before I leave to do this Q&A.”
You look down at your phone and read off the first question. “Do I plan to do a giveaway soon? Yes. I will probably post on my tiktok about it soon, so look on there.”
“Do I like video games?” You couldn’t help a little laugh that left your lips as you gave your answer. “Yes, but I rage too much so I don’t play much.”
“Any collabs soon? Yes, obviously Elf but I also plan to do a collab with @ThatgirlNobara so that’s gonna be fun.”
“Do I know Gojo Satoru and if so do I think he’s hot?” You gave a slight smirk to the camera. “Yes, but I think someone else from that group is hotter. Which will lead to the next question.”
“I noticed you follow Sukuna, what are your thoughts on him?” When you went to answer you couldn’t help the laugh and the faintest blush coming to your face. “He’s my celebrity crush, my TikTok is full of edits of him.”
“How did I get to where I am? I’ve gotten this question a lot and there’s a simple answer. Do what you love, if you love makeup do makeup. Be kind, and always have an open mind. It’s not something that happens over night you just have to have goals and the patience to achieve them.”
You did a little stretch and noticed the time. “That’s all for today, I hope you enjoyed this video and I’ll see you in the next one.”
Sukuna was reading the comments and he drummed his fingers on his desk.
Sukuna when do you plan to launch the Minecraft series?
“Me and the boys are gonna have it out within the next week.”
You haven’t played Valorant in a while… have you seen the new trailer?
“Valorant? No I haven’t seen but we can look while we’re waiting for Gojo to get his shit together and get on.”
Gojo’s whined out a hey from Sukunas headseat.
Sukuna switched the live to one of his side monitors and pulled up YouTube, looking up the trailer.
“Five months ago? Damn I’ve been out the loop.” Sukuna pressed play and immediately and Ad came up and it was one of those long 15 second Ad’s you couldn’t skip.
“Ugh come on. One thing I hate are Ad’s.” When the Ad came to an end Sukuna expected to see the trailer but was disappointed by another ad. “Are you kidding me.”
This one he could skip so he waited five seconds but in the fourth second you appeared across the screen stopping him and making him pause instead.
“Holy shit she’s hot.”
A bunch of who’s came from Gojo and his brother Yuji while the chat started to spam your name.
Chesterf6297: That’s Y/N
Rando101: That’s Y/N L/N she’s a beauty influencer
Toji - fushiguro: damn she’s fine.
“Who the hell is Y/N and why haven’t I seen her sooner?” Sukuna asked his chat but didn’t bother too look at the comments as the Ad drew his attention once again.
He pressed play and the Ad was talking about some make up bullshit that he couldn’t care less, no he was focused on the red that was popping out your eyes. As if you were wearing that for him.
“Dude she’s hot as hell.”
“Whooooooo?!” Gojo’s whiny voice came through the headphones once again and this time Sukuna blessed him with an answer.
“Someone name Y/N L/N.” A gasp came from Gojo as he recognized the name.
“Omg I saw a tiktok edit of her, hot as hell. Her recent video she called me hot too.” Gojo purposely left out the fact she said Sukuna was hotter just to fuck with him.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
Quinntonsu75: dude it’s true
Ginahjsh45: Yeah but she also said your hotter
Hislhu: Yeah she said that
Sukuna read the comments but kept his mouth shut and just watched the trailer. By the time he was finished Gojo had logged onto Fortnite and the squad started to play.
They played a few games and usually Sukuna would talked to the people he was playing with (talk shit) or he would interact with his comments and veiwers.
However in between games he was currently looking you up, you had officially peeked his interest, though he didn’t make it anymore obvious. He didn’t talk about you for the rest of the stream, but you stayed in his mind for it.
You scrolling through your DM’s responding to people — not to the rude or weird ones, you blocked them — when you noticed that Ryomen Sukuna himself had sent you a dm.
Sukuna: Hey.
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First chapter out 🤭 this is so short compared to my other works. I’m in the works of making part two and I plan to make it way longer.
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roosterforme · 18 hours
Text
Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 4700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.
Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.
She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 
"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 
She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. Longing whispers in the shadows of my heart, Desire ignites a flame that burns so deep, Devotion woven into every breath I take, Love that knows no boundaries, no end. Passion pulses through my veins like a wild river, Binding me to you in a dance of fire, In this symphony of emotions, we find our truth, A love that transcends time, space, and doubt.
Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 
"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 
It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.
When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 
"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 
At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.
Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 
"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.
The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 
"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"
"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 
"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.
Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 
"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."
"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"
Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."
She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.
"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 
"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"
"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"
Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."
Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."
Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.
"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."
"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 
There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."
Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."
Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"
--------------------------
"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."
Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 
"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 
"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."
His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.
I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.
This is Anna, by the way.
I should have started with that information.
Wow. This is already embarrassing.
Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."
He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."
"Good night, Robert."
Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 
I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.
He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.
Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)
Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.
The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.
That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 
Did I miss anything?
He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.
Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?
Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.
Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.
Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.
He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 
Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.
--------------------
Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.
She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 
"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 
When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 
"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 
Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 
Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 
Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.
I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 
When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.
Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.
Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 
"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.
Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.
She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.
Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.
"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.
--------------------------
Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"
"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"
He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."
She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."
"Too late."
She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."
Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.
Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"
He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."
"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."
"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."
When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."
"You keep saying 'next time'."
Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."
"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."
She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 
"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 
He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."
Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"
"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."
"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 
"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.
Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."
"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"
"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."
Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.
"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."
When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.
------------------------
When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 
She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.
She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Withing minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 
"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 
She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 
The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.
-------------------------
Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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198 notes · View notes
unluckilyimnot · 3 days
Note
making out with rin itoshi? I imagine him quiet and shy with you in public but he’s super clingy to you in private.
(no pressure in doing this request.)
Shy boyfriend - i.rin
m.list || rules
note: hiii thank you for your request <3 i took some time i'm sorry i'm busy but also procrastinating. i have a lot on my mind lets say
i'll try my best catch up my resquests for the moment
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To say that Rin was in the hurry to go back home was an understatement. He didn’t say much, but his release sigh when you finally decided to say goodbye was enough to let everybody know that he was fed up. You two still left without him being rude to anyone, surprisingly, but you could tell how tense he was at home. 
He didn't say a thing, leaving his keys and jacket at the entrance and got to the kitchen without taking any look in your way. You sigh, tagging along as quickly as you could and wrapping your arms around his waist. He was making boiling water, probably to make tea, so you had to speak up a little.
“Are you mad ?” 
Rin shook his head, not saying a word but you know better than that. He doesn't want to bother you yet it's easy to notice when he's done or bothered. Your friend was a little on his back this afternoon, you admit that but never thought it would annoy him that much. 
He's not the type to talk when there's too many people. Rin finds it difficult to get along with some of your friends or their partner and this lunch at their place reminds both of you how some people can be straightforward. You lost count how many times they called him shy or not funny when he didn't laugh at their jokes. You felt really bad about it. 
“I'm sorry, they're not usually like that I promise.” You muttered into his shirt, waiting for his next move until he forgave you. 
He turned around, pulling you into his chest instead and laid his head on your. It lasted a little, neither of you in the mood to break the finally intimate moment he probably wished to have this whole afternoon. 
“You shouldn't be the one who apologizes.” he said before kissing your head. 
“I do it for them.” you added before getting on your tiptoes and kissed his lips as your real apology. His arms tight up around you, not ready to let go at all, he kissed you one more time. A few pecks before deepening the last one, he turned around so you were the one paying against the counter. You chuckled as he pressed you a little more against it but grabbed his shirt in approval.
The bubbling sound of the kettle behind your ears is increasing, not that you cared much at this point. It mirrors Rin action as he slightly pulls the end of your shirt, making room to place it on your hips. You moved your hand up, lacing them around his neck and smiled in the kiss, enjoying the last few seconds of it. 
Then you light off the kettle swiftly and leave a few pecks on his lips. You grinned at him, lightly patting his cheeks. “That’s enough for an apology ?” 
His cheeks flushed making him look away for a second. He ended up laying his head in the crook of your neck before nodding. His arms tight you up into a hug that you reciprocate without thinking twice. He may not speak a lot, but it never meant he wasn’t the best boyfriend you ever had.
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I hope you liked it ♡
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theemporium · 2 days
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NO DRINKS FOR SVECH??? oh absolutely not! lets give him a lil dirty flirtini! "Let's flip coins. Head, I'm yours. Tails, you're mine."
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
19. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.” 
.
“You look pretty lonely over here.”
You paused, the rim of your glass hovering just at your lips as you turned your head to find a familiar face grinning at you. In all honesty, you were surprised it had taken him as long as it did to come over, considering the fact his eyes had been glued to the second you walked into the bar.
“You been watching me?” You asked, despite knowing the answer. 
“Maybe,” Andrei murmured, his cheeks rosy and pink from whatever drinks he had been nursing since the win earlier that night. It was a big one, one that deserved the boys heading out to a local bar and pretending like they didn’t have practice the next day. “Thought you’d come and say hi.”
Against your better judgement, your eyes flickered over to where the boy had been stationed for most of the night. Most of the players were sitting around or near the booth, along with a flurry of girls in a mix of jerseys that had followed them from the rink. You tried to not roll your eyes at the sight. 
“You looked busy,” you answered eventually with a halfhearted shrug.
Andrei was grinning when you looked back at him. “Not fun when my favourite girl doesn’t talk to me, though.”
You tried to ignore the way your face heated up at his words. “You trying to sweet me up so I buy you a drink, Svech?” It was meant to be teasing, funny even. Something to cover up the fact the boy had more of an affect on you than you cared to admit.
“Maybe I was hoping you’d let me buy you a drink,” he retorted, stepping a little closer until his arm was leaning against the counter and his body was mere inches away from you.
You cleared your throat, taking a long sip of your drink.
Andrei tilted his head to the side. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No,” you lied before turning to face him again, his eyes watching you with focused intent. “I just…”
“You just?” He prompted, fingers lightly tapping against the wood of the bartop. 
“I just thought you would have more fun over there,” you answered eventually, nodding in the direction of the booth where the majority of the team was still sitting. “I was probably going to leave after this drink.” 
“It wouldn’t be fun over there,” Andrei said with a shake of his head. “Not without you.” 
“Andrei,” you sighed, his name heavy on your tongue. Because he did this. He always did this when the two of you were drunk. He would come over, make you feel all warm and fuzzy with his flirty words and cute accent and then you would feel like an absolute idiot in the morning when he acted like nothing had happened. “I can’t keep doing this.” 
It was adorable the way he frowned in confusion. You hated yourself a little for thinking it was adorable.
“Doing what?” He questioned, his lips turned downwards.
“This. Us. This friends with benefits situation,” you confessed, your chest feeling oddly tight as you managed to spit the words out. Every cell in your body was screaming for you to stop, to not rip away the chance to feel his body pressed against yours again. But your brain knew better, your brain was being logical. “It isn’t healthy.”
Andrei blinked. “You think we are just friends?” 
Your gut twisted a little. “You think we aren’t?” 
“I–” Andrei looked a little bashful, and it was oddly endearing to see. He seemed to contemplate something, his eyes watching your expression closely before he spoke again. “Let’s make a bet.”
You paused, thinking you misheard him. “What?”
“A bet. You know, with a coin,” he continued, and hints of that self-assured smirk started to appear as he stepped forward. His hand cupped your elbow, keeping you close as the small distance between you closed and that familiar warmth of him overwhelmed your senses. 
“A coin,” you repealed, still a little lost in his touch to fully compute what he was saying.
“Yes,” he nodded, smiling down at you with that grin that made your heart lurch a little in your chest. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.” 
You could feel your cheeks burning. “I—”
“You weren’t just a friend to me,” he spoke up, a little more serious as he lifted his other hand to gently cup the back of your head. “I just thought…I don’t know. I thought you knew. There was no one but you for me. From the start.”
You blinked, your chest feeling heavy for a whole other reason now. “Oh.” 
“Can I buy you the drink now?” He asked, that playful smile of his spreading across his face as his thumb lightly brushed against your cheek. “Or do I have to find a coin to flip?” 
“You did say it was a bet,” you teased.
“If that’s what it takes, malysh,” he murmured, his gaze dipping down to your lips and, for a second, you thought he would lean down to kiss you. But then, he was stepping back and you found yourself instantly disappointed as he continued to walk backwards.
“Where are you going?”
His grin widened. “To find a coin and make you mine!”
You snorted. “I might win.”
“I’m not complaining.”
.
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Guys I know everyone has probably already written this but im kinda obsessed with Megumi overhearing all of Yuuji's sexcapades with you because his room is next to his.
But really I love the idea of Megumi not even knowing what you look like because he hasn't met you yet. It's not that Yuuji is hiding you from everyone, it's just that Megumi doesn't like to be around when Yuuji is gushing about "the girl he met a few months ago."
When Megumi overhears the two of you one night he fantasizes about what you may look like. What parts of your body would be Yuuji's favorite. How big Yuuji's hands would be gripping your ass and breasts.
And he's not a pervert about it (or so he tells himself). He doesn't listen in so he can get his rocks off. Honestly he's just happy Yuuji was able to find someone he likes a lot.
And from what Megumi has heard, Yuuji does like you a LOT. He's heard Yuuji's muffled voice countless times as the two of you boned in the room next to him. Calling you pretty, thanking you for being with him, groaning into pillows and most recently bragging about how you feel better than anyone he's EVER been with.
And Megumi isn't jealous, not at all. A little curious sure, to put a face to the mysterious moans and whimpers he's grown accustomed to hearing every other night.
But one morning he wakes up early and catches you sneaking out of Yuuji's room to head to the kitchen. You're wearing his red hoodie and it falls right at your mid thigh. You're hair is a bit messy, there are marks and bruises in the shapes of Yuuji's fingers littered up and down your legs. Megumi can even see a few on your inner thigh when you lift your arms slightly to stretch.
He tries to stay quiet, so you don't notice him leaving his room at the same time as you and he's almost pleased at how much of his imagination of you fit perfectly. Voluptuous curves, dainty little hands, soft looking lips, and what may be Megumi's favorite, extremely kinky and curly hair.
But Megumi is stopped in place when you turn and spot him. your eyes widen as you look at him guiltily and he is...enraptured. Any of his fantasies of what he thought your face looked like dulls in comparison to the real thing.
You are gorgeous. Your eyes trap Megumi like he's a rabbit who stumbled into a sare. His lips part slightly and he gasps quietly when he sees you.
When the initial shock of being discovered melts from your expression, your face heats, your eyes drop to the floor in shame and when you peer back up at Megumi through your lashes he knows you're accepting defeat.
Megumi hopes you don't say anything to him. He doesn't know if his voice will even come out at this point. Thankfully you don't say anything. Instead, you square your shoulders proudly, smile warmly at him and wave. As the morning sun pours through the windows, your eyes start to glimmer.
"Good Morning Fushiguro."
And that's when Megumi thinks he is absolutely screwed.
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jhdyuiee · 2 days
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Late Sesh
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: ̗̀➛ pairing: IDOL!taeyong x PRODUCER!Y/N
: ̗̀➛ warnings/tags: smut!, dirty talk, co-workers, name-calling (baby & slut), protected sex, semi public sex (studio sex), fingering, breast play, secret relationship, friends w/ benefits
: ̗̀➛ wc: 1k
: ̗̀➛ a.n: hii again! this is the 2nd fic i’m releasing today 😆, i hope yall enjoy this short one since i did enjoy coming up with the story! anyways i will release more in the future before i go back to school, i promise !! anyhow i hope u enjoyed yutas & taeyongs stories, thank uu to u all who read n enjoyed it i rlly appreciate it!! i love u all && see u next time, jiji out 🤍 [link to yuta’s story: YUTA.]
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It was already past 12 in the morning when I sat here in my studio waiting for him to arrive.
The infamous Lee Taeyong.
It was scheduled for us to record the last B-Side off his 2nd Mini Album. Taeyong actually was the one to suggest we record late “to better set the mood.”
I had no problem with it actually, in fact I enjoyed late-night recording sessions. As the minutes passed there was still no sign of him and just when I was about to call him, there was a knock on my studio door.
I got up, opening it. Speak of the devil.
“You’re late,” I reminded the male as he plopped down on the couch I had in my studio.
“I stopped by the bathroom,” he shrugged.
“Just get inside,” I replied, handing him the lyric sheet to 404 Loading.
He took it, pecking my cheek before stepping inside. My face felt hot, probably even visibly redder than a tomato. ‘He’s too flirty.’
A couple hours later we wrapped up, and he decided on a “celebration.” So here I am in my recording studio straddling his lap and our lips colliding with each other. His hands traveled my body, and mine stayed placed on his nape.
I moaned into the kiss when I felt his hands grope my ass, causing me to start grinding on his semi-hard cock. His hands then traveled to my hips, urging me to grind harder against him. The sensation of his hard cock on my now sensitive clit made everything unbearable. It felt like I would just cum from dry-humping the male.
“Take off your shorts,” he whispered. I got up from his lap and shimmied out of my shorts, leaving me in nothing but my lace thong which was now soaked. Taeyong pulled me by the string, sitting me back on his lap. I faced the other way, his breath on my neck and his hands cupping my sex.
“Wet all for me,” he whispered into my ear again.
His hand then went under my underwear, teasing my clit and my slit. He played with them for a while until I kept squirming at his touch. “Yo-your fingers, pl-please,” I pleaded.
Taeyong scoffed lowly, before plunging in two of his fingers inside my cunt. He kept a steady pace, slowly increasing it the louder I got. “Don’t hold back, let me hear how good I make you feel,” he said, kissing my cheek.
His fingers went in and out of me, while his mouth worked it’s way on my neck, and his thumb worked it’s way on my clit. His thumb teased, circled, and pinched my clit. I was growing overstimulated from everything. He was everywhere. I loved it.
“Cumming already? Cum for me, cum on my fingers baby.”
His words triggered the knot inside my stomach undone, like a command with no hesitation of abiding by. He took his fingers out, licking them clean inside his mouth as he looked down at me. I was already a mess and we haven’t even gotten too far yet.
“Shirt off. Everything off,” he said, tugging at the material on my top.
I took it off along with my bra and underwear. I stood naked in front of him. I saw as he licked his lips, eyeing me like his next meal.
“Your body’s perfect, so fucking beautiful,” Taeyong said, as he took one breast in his hand. His other hand followed along until both hands fondled and played with my breast. Slowly then he brought me closer, and was back on his lap.
He took his hands off my breasts, his mouth soon replaced them. I watched as his mouth sucked on patches of my skin and his tongue swirled and flicked my nipples until they were hard. He let go with a pop, taking off his shirt. “Get up for a bit, I’m gonna grab a condom.”
I stood up, sitting down next to where he was and watched as he grabbed a condom from the “secret drawer” he made in my studio. He brought his sweats and boxers down, until his hard aching cock stood proudly against him.
Taeyong slid the condom down, and walked back to the couch where I waited. “Come sit on it,” he said, grabbing onto my hips. He guided me down on his cock, as it stretched my insides out. I know we’ve done this multiple times before, but I still can’t get used to his size. I moaned out his name repeatedly the more he went inside, and once it was all in he whispered into my ear. “Ready?” I nodded.
He started thrusting into me, and I soon joined in when his thrusts got faster. I bounced on him, feeling as he reached deep inside me. “Look at you, you’re doing so well.” There he goes, his praises. His praises have always turned me on even more, pushed me a little bit more.
“I lo-love it!” I yelped when he suddenly grabbed my hips and thrusted me even more.
“You feel so fucking good, so warm, so tight, so wet.”
Yes.
“You love it when I praise you, don’t you? Makes you clench around me.”
Yes.
“Fuck. Hold it in baby, wait until I’m ready to come, okay.”
“Yes, I-I will wait,” I whimpered.
“I wonder if someone will come in, and see how much of a slut you are,” he teased.
I turned to the door and saw it was unlocked, shit. Taeyong then suddenly grabbed my jaw, making me face him again. “Eyes on me slut.”
“Sorry,” I said softly.
He thrusted into me even more, the pace increasing. Taeyong’s hand then went down into my clit, playing with it. He edged me even more. “Pl-Please let me cum already,” I said with watery eyes.
Taeyong smiled, kissing my lips. “Cum with me baby.”
One brutal thrust and we both came crashing down. My head went back, my vision whitened. I heard as Taeyong groaned, his breaths trying to calm down.
“Stay here, I’ll go get something to clean you up,” Taeyong said, as he detached himself from me and laid me on the couch. I watched as he discarded the condom and left the door.
My eyes wandered to the ceiling, then closing. ‘I really just fucked Taeyong in my studio couch’ I thought. ‘Now I can’t look at it the same way any more.’ I sighed, then giggled. I waited here for his return.
For his love.
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© jhdyuiee
24.03.26
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Number Neighbors Pt.27
Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?
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Nat’s been more than exhausted these past few weeks as she drafts up argument after argument that she can use against the government to justify why she and her fellow Avengers shouldn't be put on a leash. She knows it’s a long shot and she doesn’t have enough witness accounts or evidence yet but she’s been hearing about the crime rate spike through the rumor mill and she hopes that soon enough she’ll have enough to come back.
She can bring her family back and finally have you. If you’ll still have her after all of this is over. She knows you’d have every right to be mad but she hopes you’ll understand enough to at least let her take you on one date.
The rain pelts outside of her window as it has been for the last three days and she sighs as she lies back on her pull-out bed. If it were under different circumstances she might’ve been able to appreciate the break from the city and the pressure. Maybe she could even come back to these woods with Clint, or Wanda, or…You.
She’s working hard to make sure her family is safe, yes, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t working this hard to also see you again. To finally know what it feels like to hold you, to run her fingers through your hair, and hear you laugh again. The thought of you has been the only thing that’s brought her comfort these past few weeks.
Her computer dings with an email and she shoots up immediately, grabbing the shiny object from the side table next to her and pulling it onto her lap. She wasn’t expecting any emails while she was out here and her mind jumped to the worst-case scenario: they’d found her location.
The email is from an unknown sender which only makes her more uneasy and she’s more frustrated than anything that she’ll have to find a new place to hide when she recognizes the encrypted link hidden in the email's coding.
It was a website Clint had created just for the two of them to communicate in case there was ever a situation similar to this. She’s afraid to admit just how comforting it was to hear from someone close to her after weeks of no contact. She quickly opens the website and reads the messages.
Clint-
Hey Natty, hope you’re having fun wherever you’ve parked that trailer of yours, Tony’s been a real pain in the butt but we’re trying to negotiate some better terms with some government officials. I know you’re probably working on a solution of your own but I’ve got to at least pretend like I contribute to this group-
She snorts at the self-jab, knowing her fellow Avenger couldn’t care less about the insults people say about him being the least skilled Avenger. She always admired that about him.
Clint-
Anyway, your phone’s been blowing up. I think Tony is getting suspicious so I took it and hid it in my room. I think you’re gonna be in deep shit with your girlfriend when you get back haha. 
I attached the voicemails you’ve been getting, I didn’t listen to them but I saw who they were from. Thought they might be important.  
Nat’s heart pounded as she stared at the attached files, there were at least 30 voicemails from you varying in different lengths and part of her was scared to open them. There was no doubt a few of them were just you yelling at her but even then she’d missed the sound of your voice so much that she’d take your irritation over anything else.
She hesitates over the first voicemail with her cursor but clicks it before she can sike herself out. There’s a little bit of silence and she wonders if you’re going to talk before she hears a small sniffle and her heart breaks. She swore to herself she’d never make you cry and now she’d failed, the sound of your quiet crying echoing throughout her trailer only amplifying her defeat.
It's another thirty seconds before your voice finally breaks through. It’s rough and raw and she can tell you’d probably been crying for a while.
“Nat? Where did you go? Why’d you leave? Listen- we don’t have to meet if you don’t want to. We can keep texting forever just don’t ghost me like this. Please.” It’s short and by how broken your last word sounded she can tell you were probably thrown into another fit of sobs after you ended the message. 
Nat doesn’t know what to do with herself, her body feels frozen and her heart won’t stop sinking further into her stomach. She’s never heard you sound so unsure of yourself before and it tears her apart that she’s the one who made you that way. It takes her a few minutes to muster up the courage to click on another one.
“What kind of person just says ‘I’m sorry?’ I deserve a better explanation than that! You couldn’t have at least lied to me about going to save baby animals in Africa where there’s no cell service? At least then when you stopped responding I could’ve felt better!” She’s not surprised that you’re mad at her, you deserve to be, but it doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at her chest when she hears how irked you are.
The next few are similar in the fact that they’re either angry or spoken through tears but they slowly begin transitioning into something else. Eventually, you stop talking about her leaving and start talking about yourself. What you did that day, what you’re making for dinner, the cat you’ve been visiting at the cat cafe. There’s still a hint of sadness in your tone but she can tell the calls are a form of therapy for you. A way for Nat to be there when she’s not really there.
She wants to be there. She wants to be the one you’re talking about your day with, wants to cook you dinner while you sit on the counter and visit the cat cafe with you. It hurts that she can’t do that and as she’s listening she feels her eyes burn with tears. She refuses to let them fall. She’s not the one who gets to cry in this scenario and yet her eyes refuse to give up their unshed tears.
There’s one last voicemail from a day ago and she clicks on it expecting it to be like the others but much to her surprise you’re talking about her again.
“I think I’m mad because I can’t even bring myself to hate you for it. I know you’ve probably got some shit going on. I understand that, trust me. But- I don't know you could’ve… maybe it’s too much of me to ask you to fill me in on the situation- or let me know when you’d be back… Is this goodbye?” 
 Your static voice rings out into the silence and Nat hates how you sound. Reserved- almost accepting. Like you’ve convinced yourself she’s never going to respond again and she hates it. She hates that she made you so insecure that you think she isn't spending every hour thinking of you and how to get back to you. 
The sound of your voice fills her with even more determination as she begins redrafting her court argument. She was going to come back to you, you just had to wait for her a little longer.
Pt.28
A/n: Aww Nat :( ~ Starry
---Taglist--
@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime
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mycheersricochet · 19 hours
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Treat You Better | Hook
Hockeyplayer!Hook x reader
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Summary: Your bf gets traded to the New York Islanders, but he's a POS and Tyler welcomes you as the captain of the team.
Word Count: 11k
Warnings: insecure reader, gaslighting, cheating, allusions to sex (maybe? Idk there's a "steamy" scene but I couldn't quite get to smut which sucks. If you could read my mind)
Notes: there's quite a few scenes with the shitty bf. Don't know if that's a turn off but it kind of goes with the territory of reading a story. You gotta get the full picture. Hockey is not a huge focus but if you don't understand something ask or google it or just enjoy the idea of hockeyplayer!hook
Everyone told you to help him through his trade and just be there for him. But no one thought how this affected you. You had to leave your home, your family, friends, and even your job. 
Long Island was so far away from what you knew. No one was there to greet you as you arrived. Jake, your boyfriend of nearly two years, was told to fly directly to the game in Toronto so he wasn't there to make the move with you. You took a cab to the building where you now lived and you were met with all your boxes stacked in the semi furnished apartment. 
The place was nice, it had a big open floor plan and the walls were newly painted. But it had no personality. It almost looked like a bachelor pad with the black leather couches, brick wall, and bar in the living room. It would need some womanly touches that's for sure.
The first thing you did was take your phone out and call Jake to tell him you made it. But he didn't answer. You sent him a message hoping he'd get back to you soon.
Hey, I made it home. I miss you 💕
He replied with a simple thumbs up emoji and you tried not to let it bother you. Jake was busy and he was probably stressed with the trade. 
After a quick shower you got to work on setting up your new place. You wanted to have it as comfortable as possible for when Jake came home. The boxes needed to go first so you started with his things. 
His gaming system was placed in the entertainment center. His clothes were hung and folded in the closet along with his shoes. Some of his hockey equipment you left in the boxes next to the closet because it was too heavy. 
Next, you started on your clothes and took out a few essentials like your towels and warm throw blankets because it was colder in New York than your sunny town. By the time you had got down to bed you were ready to drop your head on the pillow and sleep for twelve hours straight. The rest of the things could be finished tomorrow. 
When you awoke it was too loud mutterings. Jake was home. You blinked awake and ran out to greet him. Your arms draped over him as you gave him a big hug.
"Welcome home," you told him, but he didn't return the sentiment and pulled your arms down.
"Hey," he said and looked around the place. "Why is this place such a dump?"
Your face fell, sure the place wasn't perfect. You still need to decorate and unpack a few more boxes, mostly your stuff, and then take out the empty boxes and bubble wrap you left behind last night. But it was better than when you arrived.
"I didn't have time to take everything out. I was so tired last night," you raked a hand through your mess of hair and ignored his scoff. You knew he was just cranky after a roadie.
"Alright well can you make a green smoothie while I shower?" He asked, Jake was a health nut and had a strict diet to follow closely.
Sometimes it was a little too strict, but it really paid off looking at his muscles. You grimaced however as you didn't have time to go to the store yet and nothing was in the fridge.
"There's nothing here for smoothies. But I can go out and get us some breakfast. I saw a cute little cafe around the corner.” 
He reluctantly nodded. "Don't take too long, yeah?" He kissed your cheek and walked away. 
You grabbed your wallet out of your bag by the door and put on your boots, then grabbed your coat to go out to the chilly street. The cafe bistro was just a few minutes down the street.
It was too cold for you though. Your shoulders were hunched in as you powerwalked to get there faster. You weren't paying attention when you crashed into a fit shaggy haired dude in sweats running in front of you.
“Oh sh-t, sorry,” you offered a quick apology. 
He had an unimpressed stare as he glanced over you and smirked, but didn't say anything back. He started running again and you shrugged. Your first New Yorker experience went alright, at least he didn't cuss you out and he was also really handsome.
It wasn't until you reached the cafe that you saw yourself in the glass door and realized why he was probably smirking at you like that. In the rush to get here you still wore your Care Bears pajamas and your hair was a mess. But hey at least your hair wasn't as crazy looking as the hoodie guy.
“Jake! I'm back!” 
Jake was sitting on the couch with a towel over his bare shoulders while he was playing video games.
“What took you so long?” He asked, pausing his game and turning to you to get his green smoothie.
“It was a long line,” you kissed him and he backed away wrinkling his nose and you remembered you forgot to brush your teeth. “Sorry.”
You turned and went to brush your teeth and go to the bathroom to fix yourself. It's not that you were careless about your hygiene, but you were so focused on getting Jake what he needed. He just got a little cranky whenever things weren't ready for him so you tended to forget about taking care of yourself. His only focus was hockey and you took care of the rest.
When you returned you jumped into his lap, surprising him. He groaned as he had to catch his control from falling and pause his game. But he didn't stay mad too long as you started kissing his neck. Soon you were christening your new couch.
You were wrapped around him as you lay back on the couch in your underwear while he stroked your back. He told you about his first game with the Islanders. 
“And the captain, he's such an asshole,” he complained. 
“What did he do?”
“He just thinks he's the shit because he's one of the youngest captains in the league. I told him about a pass and he completely wrote me off,” he chuckled. “But karma's a bitch. I think he injured himself.”
“Isn't that bad?” You asked. 
Having the captain injured so close to playoff season wasn't good and even you knew that despite knowing very little of the game. 
“Yeah, but don't worry babe. I'll get us to the playoffs. That's why they traded for me,” he said smugly. 
Jake was on a bit of a hot streak when he heard about the trade. It was still odd to you that the Kings traded him now. But they were the ones missing out. It was also good for you and Jake to get out of Los Angeles. You never really fit in with the WAGs there and there was someone in LA that you were happy not to be around anymore.
“I know you will,” you grabbed his bearded cheek and kissed him passionately. Yes, this was the best move. Here, you could be happy and no one could get between you two.
The first game you were going to was tonight. You spent the entire day getting everything for Jake's first home game. His game suit was picked up from the dry cleaners. His shoes polished and his gear bag by the door. 
“I'll see you later babe,” he kissed your cheek. “Wear the outfit I like, yeah? And do your curls,” he kissed you again and left.
“Shit.” 
You had no idea where your curling iron was, plus the products you needed to make your long straight thick frizzy hair curly were still in one of the boxes. It would take at least an hour to do your hair and you still needed to shower and blow drying your hair took another forty minutes. Plus, most of your clothes were still packed.
Why didn't you think about this before? Of course, your nicest jeans and expensive boots weren't going to be enough. If Los Angeles WAGs dressed to the nines you could only imagine how pretentious New York would be. Hopefully, the drive to the arena wasn't too bad.
You managed to make it just in time for the game and to meet a few of the other wives and girlfriends. Lexy, Ruby, and Julia welcomed you to the team with open arms. They seemed more laid back than the women back home.
For the first time since arriving in Long Island you breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this place would be kinder to you. On Jake's old team you were seen as an outsider. Especially since most of the women were still besties with his ex-fiance. 
“So how have you been liking New York so far?” Julia brought you toward the seats at the very front of the skybox. You didn't used to be allowed to sit there as they were reserved seats for the top players WAGs but everything seemed more relaxed here.
“Oh, it's good,” you smiled shyly. “I haven't been out much. I'm still getting the place together.”
“Yeah, I know what that's like,” Lexy added on Julia's other side. 
“If you ever need anything let us know. Let me add you to the group chat,” Julia touched your arm grinning and looked back down at her phone. “There, I followed you on Insta when I heard you were coming too, but you're private.”
Around a year ago you set your account to private. There was a lot of harassment toward you because of your relationship but you decided to keep it because it was how you communicated most with your friends.
“I haven't really been on it lately but let me accept your request.” You took out your phone and the three of you were too busy talking and looking at your screens to notice another person come sit near you guys. 
The dark figure caught your attention first. You glanced at him and turned back to your phone and back to him again. It was the guy from the other day. Julia noticed you went quiet and turned her head.
“Oh hi, Tyler!” 
Tyler turned to her and nodded. Looking at him again you notice how handsome he is and you blush. His eyes are hard but you see a softness behind them. He meets your eyes and you turn away quickly.
“This is Y/N, she's Jake Blasser’s girlfriend,” Julia tells him. “Y/N, this is Tyler, our captain.”
You're surprised that this man is the captain. He looks young but you remember he's one of the youngest captains in the league. 
“Hi,” you turn on the charm. “Nice to meet you,” you smile at him but he seems expressionless.
“Hey,” he says dismissively and turns his attention back to the game.
You remember that he got injured during the last game of the road trip. No wonder he's grumpy. Jake also gets this way when he doesn't get to play.
Julia sighs and whispers to you, “Don't mind him. He got hurt the other day and the team didn't want to risk it so he's a little grumpy. But he'll be back out there in no time.”
Tyler is quiet for most of the game. You do notice him fist his hands when he's nervous. And he also claps when his team plays well. You remember Jake calling him an asshole but you only see a guy who cares a lot for his team. It's obvious why he's the Captain.
After the game, you follow the girls out of the box. Tyler is standing in the way and he lets you and the girls get out first. You pass him and brush against him, catching a whiff of his cologne. He smelled ridiculously good. 
He leaves immediately after to go to the locker room. Significant others and friends weren't allowed in the locker room. The team still needed to do interviews and shower. In the meantime, you wait in the lounge designated for family and friends. 
“We should go out to brunch. To welcome you to the team,” Lexy puts her arm around your back and grins at you.
“Yeah, that would be nice,” you say enthusiastically. You were determined to make friends this time. A lot of your friends were in LA and lately you'd become distant due to them not liking Jake.
“Great! Tell me if you want to go shopping too. I gotta go,” she said goodbye and went to meet her man who waved at the girls by the door.
Ruby and Julia left soon after too. Jake always took so long to get ready. You were usually one of the last ones to leave the arena. 
“So how do you like the new guy?” You heard some footsteps outside.  The door hid you from sight and you didn't give away that you were still there. It turned out to be a good decision because one of the guys groaned. And another scoffed. You frowned because they were talking about Jake.
“You know how I feel about it,” another deeper voice responded. It was the captain you met earlier. “He should have stayed in LA with his supermodel girlfriend.”
The rest of the guys snickered as they left and you walked out seeing them turn the corner to the parking lot. So Jake was right and his captain was an asshole. But why would he call you a supermodel? You were hardly that beautiful and your fashion sense was non-existent. Maybe he was being sarcastic.
“Hey,” you jumped as you lost track of time. Jake appeared at the door and wrapped his arms around you. 
“Jake,” you chastised as he chuckled. “Don't scare me like that.” 
“Ready to go home?” He asked.
“Yeah, we're the last ones!” You grinned, chuckling as he tried to kiss you.
“I'll make it up to you at home, let's go,” he pulled your hand and you forgot about the prissy captain. He didn't like you? Too bad, you were here to stay.
Parties weren't really your thing. Especially parties specifically done to celebrate you were a rarity. Tonight was your welcome to the team party. Everyone and their partners plus kids were going to be there so you made sure to dress nice.
“Is this okay?” You fixed your outfit and asked Jake in the car.
He smirked. 
“Babe you look hot. I would have preferred your hair in curls though.”
You tried not to roll your eyes. Jake has a thing for your hair always being in curls. You had an inkling why it was so special to him but you didn't like to think about it. 
“You don't think I look too supermodel-like do you?” It was a stupid question and you regretted asking when he burst out laughing.
“You dressed like a supermodel?” He snorted. “Who told you that?”
“No one,” you played nervously with your hair. You didn't tell him what you overheard his captain saying. It would only cause problems and you knew Jake would not let it go. He could be a bit of a hothead and could hold onto a grudge. 
The house was full of hockey players as you walked in behind Jake who was holding your hand. He immediately caught the attention of a couple guys while you searched the room for one for the girls.
One thing you hated about these parties was how quickly Jake forgot how awkward you were around new people. Then he'd ask you on the ride home why you were so quiet.
This time you decided to let loose. You found Ruby making cocktails on the kitchen island and took one from her. The night was fun and you met a few of the other teammates. On Jake's last team everyone seemed closed off and you were never close to any of his teammates. Here, everyone seemed like a family. 
“So this is the grand tour,” Lexy twirled in her dress as we reached the kitchen again after she showed me her house.
“I love it. It's so cozy and chic,” you told her. “Can you help me pick some things out for our place? Jake's been too busy to go with me and he has better taste than me.” 
So far, he's hated every thing you'd gotten for the apartment. In LA, you moved in with him and he had a nice big house. Everything was modern and sleek. Later on you found out it was a project done by his ex and tried to change some things but he told you it messed with his routine.
“Of course, I'll take you to my favorite shops. Oh, we're going to have so much fun!” She seemed really giddy and drunk off wine. 
As Lexy went back into the living room to take some more appetizers, you stayed behind to top off your wine glass. Also, maybe eat a few finger sandwiches. A second later, you jumped like you were caught in the act when you heard someone else entering.
Tyler eyed you as you turned back around and ignored him. It was childish but despite talking to everyone around, he didn't get the time of day from you. 
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” you responded and sipped your wine.
He stood awkwardly on the other side of the island as you heard the music and mutterings of the rest of the party.
“Did I–” he paused as you gave him a hard stare. “Is there something I missed? You seemed annoyed whenever I was around you, out there?”
“No,” you replied, shaking your head like there really was nothing wrong but he knew there was something.
“Really?” He curled an eyebrow. “Alright then you won't mind doing a fireball shot with me,” he said, pulling up a bottle from the stack behind him.
“Wait what?” You asked, almost choking on your sandwich.
“Yeah, it's tradition for the newbies to do one with the captain. Blasser already did one on the roadie the other day.”
“But he's on the team.” Jake didn't tell you anything about this happening.
“And you're not?” Tyler half smiled. “Here,” he passed you a plastic cup like an inch full of fireball whiskey. “Unless you think you can't take it?”
You grabbed it tentatively. Something about the look in his eye like his was a challenge made you take a deep breath and take the shot. You immediately started coughing it up and Tyler laughed, unscrewing a water bottle and passing it to you.
“I gotta be honest, I didn't expect you to actually do it,” he said around honest to god, giggles. The serious captain was giggling but you were glaring at him with tears in your eyes and he laughed some more.
“You're the worst,” you coughed out, but you laughed nonetheless. 
The ice had been broken between you two.
Both of you stayed in the kitchen talking about your transition into the city. And eating chips which you found out was his favorite snack.
“I can't believe your dad set you on skates alone at two.”
Tyler shrugged, “I managed to stay on my feet. Then fell on my ass. It's on video.”
You laughed, eyes crinkling as you watched him. He looked cuter when he smiled. The moment was broken when Jake walked in.
“Hey babe, time to go.” He said, wrapping his hand around your waist.
“Yeah, let me just finish my chips.”
“You shouldn't eat that crap you'll get fat,” he says playfully touching your stomach and you shake your head with a small smile.
“It's just one bag, Jakey.”
It's awkward with Tyler in front of you guys. The tension is thick between them. Tyler closed off into an emotionless mask and Jake held your hip hard. You are thankful when Ruby and Ang come in breaking the ice. 
“You guys are going too?” Ang asks and Jake nods.
“Yeah, it's getting late. Come on babe, let's go say goodnight to Lexy and Cass.” He pulls you away and you send a quick wave to Ruby, Ang, and a small smile to Tyler who shares a small one with you too.
In the car, Jake interrogates you about Tyler.
“Did he say something to you? I'll kick his ass if he was a dick.”
“No,” you laughed awkwardly. “He just welcomed me to the team. He's actually kind of nice.”
“Nice?” He laughed.
“Babe, you're so innocent.” He told you with kind of a belittling tone.
“I'm not Innocent. I just took a shot of fireball,” you told him, pleased with yourself.
“What?” Jake looked at you confused as to why you were bringing that up. You didn't really drink hard liquor. “Since when do you drink shots?”
“Just showing I can hang with the team too,” you told him smugly and turned to look out the window with a small smirk.
He snickered. “I think a glass of wine will do like the other WAGs. You don't have to do shots. I didn't,” he shrugged. 
“But to welcome you to the team?”
Jake looked confused then smirked. “See babe, you're so innocent. Can't leave you alone for a minute.”
Jake reached a hand under your chin playfully and you felt a bit stupid. Tyler was only messing with you. He wasn't really welcoming you to the team.
Tonight's home game was a late kickoff on a weekday so a lot of the players' families weren't around. You were there but you had nowhere to be tomorrow. In addition, you were getting bored of sitting around at home. You had no work to keep you busy and no family around to keep you company.
“Hey,” Tyler gave you a warm smile as he sat next to you at the front of the nearly empty skybox. He was in his team hoodie and track pants. “I was hoping you were here. I wasn't sure you were coming.”
At first, you thought he was being sarcastic, but when you looked at him you saw he was being sincere. He did seem to be glad to see you here so you smiled back.
“I wouldn't miss it. I don't really have anything else to do anyway,” you shrugged deprecatingly. 
“How have you been adjusting to the move?” He was the first one to ask how you felt. 
Everyone else assumes you were fine and Jake had already been through two trades before so he didn't really know how it affected you.
“I don't know what I'm doing to be honest,” you tugged a loose strand of your hair back distractedly. “Jake said I don't have to worry about getting back to work, but I kind of want to do my own thing. You know?” Tyler nodded empathetically. “I don't want my whole life revolving around him.”
“What type of work were you into back in LA?” 
You were going to answer but somehow you remembered how he called you a supermodel and how you should go back to LA. So you thought about messing with him a little.
“Modeling.”
“Well, you're in New York. You can get a job here.”
You tried to hold in your giggles but burst out laughing.
“What?” He half grinned.
“You really think I'm a supermodel, don't you?” you said through giggles. 
Tyler stared at you confused then it hit him what he said after he first met you.
“You heard me?” He looked ashamed.
You nodded but smiled at him. You weren't mad at him or hurt really. Simply confused why he said that. Maybe a little flattered, he thought you were that pretty.
“You didn't sound too happy about us moving here. But I get it, kind of. Mostly, I don't know why you would believe I look anything like a supermodel,” you snorted.
He frowned.
“Why not? I think you'll fit in great on Vogue or whatever magazine. But I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome.”
“So that fireball shot last Saturday was your way of making it up? I know Jake didn't have to take one.”
He grinned, at being caught. “To be fair, I just wanted to break the ice with you.”
“Why is it so important to break the ice with me?”
“Hey Hook!” You heard someone yell out and Tyler turned his head. Making you notice how close your faces were to each other in order to hear yourselves over the noise of the arena. “Coach, wants to talk to you.”
Tyler nodded to the trainer and turned to you. 
“Sorry, I gotta go.”
You watched him go and admired how he treated service attendants in the skybox as he exited. He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Jake's former captain never even talked to you or welcomed you to the team.
Jake went out with his teammates after the game. He invited you to go with them but you decided to head back home. It would be good for him to interact with his teammates outside of the hockey rink.
Sitting back in your PJs you scrolled through your phone and did something you never really did. Google Jake's teammates. Okay, just Tyler. You found out he was a second generation star and his father also played for the Islanders. 
Somehow you found yourself on Tumblr where he was very popular by the amount of fanfiction you scrolled through. But a few posts caught your eye from a few Puck Bunny slash hockey gossip blogs. 
Now you usually avoid those blogs. The only one you stalked was earlier in your relationship and they were tearing you to shreds. You cried and almost broke up with Jake over the phone while he was on the road because you thought he was cheating. But you were stronger now and this time you were reading about Tyler.
But it seemed they didn't know much about him. Apparently he hadn't had a public girlfriend in years. There was only one picture of him and his ex and he looked really happy in one of those stereotypical couples poses in the mirror. The girl was really pretty and exactly the type you'd imagine he'd go for.
As was usual there were the usual people claiming to have hooked up with him. All had positive reviews of him. Saying he was a cool guy but looking for nothing serious. And he didn't really answer DMs since he wasn't very active online.
There were also pictures of him in the locker room. He was lean and fit, as you expected but he had muscles that you didn't really notice with his baggy hoodies and sweatpants. He also didn't really talk a lot but that was common for several hockey players. They tended to hate talking to reporters or whenever they had a camera on them in general. 
After a few videos you decided to close out the tab and delete your history. It felt like you were doing something wrong looking into him like this. What he did was none of your business and it was a little weird now that you knew him personally. You glanced at the time and noticed it was already one AM and Jake would be home soon. 
Yu hoped he would manage to break the ice with his teammates and make friends with some of them. His transition into the team hadn't been easy from what he's told you. Maybe he just needed some time to bond with his captain. Tyler was really nice, maybe they just got off on the wrong foot.
Alright so maybe not everything could be settled with a couple drinks. Jake was not happy when he came home from practice. He slammed his bag down on the floor as soon as he got in and pulled out one of his beers he kept in the back. 
“Jakey, what's wrong?” You approached him and touched his shoulders.  
“Captain asshole,” he threw the cap of his beer into the sink harshly. “And his little clique of ‘lads’,” he spat then took a swing of his beer.
You sighed. “Maybe you just need one on one time with him. Why don't we invite him for dinner?”
You don't know why you offered. You never told Jake to invite his teammates over.
Jake grimaced then sneered.
“Hell no. I don't want him in my house. It's too bad he lives in this building too,” he shook his head, and turned away as he walked off drinking his beer.
That was news to you, but it made sense why you crossed paths with him on your first day here. Tyler never mentioned it but then again you haven't spoken to him that often.
The Islanders game was in an hour and you were going to be late. There's no way you were going to get to the other side of the city on a game day and during Friday rush hour. 
You still get lost since you tried your best not to have to leave the house. Which was easy since you had nowhere to go and no one to see. Except today you decided to go to a museum out of the blue.
Where are you? I thought we were going to have drinks before the game :( - Julia
I'm trying to get a Lyft. And I'm lost 😭 - You
Share your location with me - Julia
You did so and waited on a bus bench. You could hear Jake in your ear chastising you for being so dumb and getting lost. He could not find out.
You're lucky. Tyler is near there. Stay there buttercup he's coming for you 🙂 - Julia
A sleek black car stopped in front of you and you looked up to see Tyler sliding the window down. He gave you a small smile as you got in the car.
“Are you wearing a suit?” You blurted as you immediately noticed the blazer and tie.
A small blush marked his cheeks as he turned away and pulled into traffic.
“I had to. I was doing press at the NHL offices today. And it's game day. I've been told recently that I don't look like a Captain so,” he emphasized by waving his hand off the steering wheel.
You chuckled. “Who told you that? You are exactly the image of a Captain.”
He shook his head thinking you weren't being serious.
“You are! You're overly serious outside of talking up your team and you get so riled up when you watch them play.”
He glanced at you with surprise in his eyes. 
“I didn't know you were watching me that closely,” he said in a deep baritone that gave you a small shiver.
Comfortable silence fell over the car. 
“So can I ask what you were doing over here?”
“It's kind of a secret,” you played with your hands nervously. 
“A secret?”
“Don't tell Jake but I went to an interview earlier.” 
“That's great! So how'd it go?” He glanced at you to continue.
“I think it went well. They're going to call me about a second interview.”
“Well I'm glad you're getting back out there. But why don't you want to tell Blasser?”
“I just don't know if he's going to like the idea.”
“Why wouldn't he be? If you were my girl, I'd want you to be happy.” The way he said “my girl” made you feel warm inside.
“He just wants me to take it easy.”
“Take it easy?” 
“Jake doesn’t like to see me stressing.”
“Don't worry, I won't tell him,” he smiled.
“So how are you and Jake getting along?”
The air turned tense. 
“I take it you also don't get along with him very well.” Tyler didn't reply. “What is it with you guys?” You chuckled. “Should I lock you in a room together?”
Tyler chuckled humorlessly. “I don't think you'd want that.”
You watched him quietly as he kept driving. His watch shines in the sunset.  
“I'm glad we are friends at least.”
He looked at you earnestly. “Me too.”
Jake's sister Jenny was coming to New York this week. She was very particular about things so you were already on edge. 
“What hotel is she staying at?” Jake watched you strangely in the mirror where he was finishing brushing his teeth.
He spit into the sink and looked at you to answer your question as you stood by the door in your PJs. “She's staying here. I'm not putting her in a hotel.”
“What? But the guest room is not ready yet. We got the boxes we haven't unpacked in there.” 
Jake shrugged as he passed you to walk across the hall to your bedroom. “Jenny will be fine with some boxes in the corner for a few days.”
You weren't so sure about that so by 9am the next morning you were cleaning out the room. The things you didn't know where to store went into the hallway closet. 
All it needed was a fresh coat of paint for the walls. Since there was still a few days before she was due to arrive you decided to order some paint cans and get to work. It was still airy outside so opening the windows during the day would be enough to air out the room.
However, as was the case for Jenny she surprised you by arriving two days earlier. 
“Jenny,” you watched her with your mouth open in surprise as she gave you a quick hug and let herself in. 
“Hii,” her high pitched girly voice reminding you of the mean girls you see in movies. “Where's Jake?” 
“He's at practice,” you shifted in your oversized crewneck and loose sweatpants. You weren't ready for company. “We thought you were coming on Friday.”
Jenny made herself at home in your kitchen. Picking through the things you had on the counter decorating the kitchen. Her face pinched, showing her distaste.
“Yeah, well I saw an earlier flight and texted Jake last night maybe. He didn't tell you?” She smirked like this was funny to her. 
“No, he must have forgotten.” Dammit Jake.
“About me?” She motioned to herself. “Never,” she grinned. “You probably didn't notice or you don't care,” she pouted.
“I care,” you smiled uncomfortably. “Anyway, forget it. Come see the guest room. I just finished decorating it a few days ago.”
She grinned and took your hand as you took her down the hall. Your heart beat nervously waiting for her reaction.
“Oh,” she said, clearly disappointed. “This is nice.”
You tried not to show her how your face fell. Of course she didn't like it. Thankfully you were spared the awkwardness as you both heard the door bang shut.
“Hey, I'm home,” Jake called as he came in and set his equipment bag down on the floor next to the door.
Jenny went out to the hall running and squealing in excitement as she fell into her brother's open arms. 
“Jakey!”
“Hey sis,” he hugged her back and looked back at you, mouthing sorry as you rolled your eyes at him.
“Guess what?” She exclaimed. “I convinced mom and dad to come this weekend too.”
No…you weren't ready for their daughter. You could imagine how Jake's mom would react to the apartment. 
The entire family was full of perfectionists. Jake's mom and dad did everything to get their son into the NHL. And they expected the all star treatment whenever they came into town. 
“Cool,” Jake shrugged and sat his ass down on the couch to play video games. “Babe, can you make sure my mom gets the care package I always get her. I don't know who to call since we moved here.”
“Oh, and dad wants to golf at some popular club in the city. I forgot the name,” Jenny informed you offhandedly as she sat down next to Jake. “By the way, Jakey,” she said sweetly and you imagined she was going to ask her brother for another car since she recently crashed the one he gave her last summer.
In the meantime, you went into the room to try to get a day pass at the prestigious golf club you were sure Jake's dad would love. And to look up where to get the usual expensive care products his mom was accustomed to getting whenever she came to visit. 
When you finally finished making some calls you headed into the kitchen to start on dinner. You paused on the way as you heard the siblings talking in the living room.
“She painted it an ugly yellow,” Jenny complained. “And my room stinks of paint.”
You resisted the urge to yell at her that she wasn't supposed to arrive yet. If only she would have given you the courtesy of getting your things in order before she invited herself over.
Jake laughed as he continued playing. “Yeah, she doesn't have the best taste.”
“Tell me about it. What are these pillows,” she kicked one to the floor as she laid out on the couch.
You stomped into the room and received a disingenuous smile from Jenny. You ignored her and started on dinner. 
“We're not really eating here, are we?” She asks as you are nearly done with dinner. “Can't we go out? We're in New York!”
As if she couldn't have said this before you started cooking. Jake sighed and got up to the kitchen, opening the pan and smelling your cooking. You watched him expectantly so he could tell his sister that you made dinner and she could eat it or leave.
But he frowned and turned off the stove. 
“Yeah, let's go out.” 
“Awesome, let me get my jacket!” She screamed and went into her room. 
You hit Jake in his stomach. “Jake!” 
He rolled his eyes, “Babe, come on. I'm tired. Let's just go.”
He grabbed the keys and strolled out the door when Jenny came back and you trailed after them. The door slamming hard behind you.
Tyler clenched his jaw and inhaled deeply through his nose. If he had to listen to these people keep talking he was going to lose it. He had met some obnoxious fake people in his line of work, but he had yet to have them in his team. 
Jake's father kept droning on about his son as if he was single-handedly leading the team into the playoffs. Tyler knew Jake had done nothing but cause more distractions than unity in the team. And as far as he knew, he was still the Captain of the team. 
“Daddy, you're talking Tyler's ear off.” Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes as another one of Jake's family members cozied up to him.
Tyler gave her a short nod when he met her, hoping she'd understand to leave him alone, but alas that wasn't the case.
“It's too bad, Y/N can't be bothered to be here to introduce us,” she told him.
“Well, you already know who I am,” he deadpanned. To anyone else it maybe could have sounded cocky but he knew a girl who only wanted him for his fame when he saw one.
His mind strayed to where you could be. He knew you wouldn't miss a game so he made an excuse that he had to go downstairs to tell the coach something and made his getaway. There wasn't much traffic since the game was still going on so he made it back to the apartment building in record time. 
He knocked on the door a few times but didn't get a response. Tyler was beginning to worry and called your name again. The door finally opened and he wasn't prepared for the sight.
“Tyler? What are you doing here?”
“You weren't at the game and you didn't take any of our calls. I got worried and decided to check on you.”
And good that he did. You didn't look good. You had bags under your eyes and were super pale. A frazzled look was on your face and your eyes were red like you had been crying.
“I'm sorry,” he frowned, she didn't need to apologize to him. “I just had a lot of things to take care of for Jake's parents. And when I checked the time it was already late and I felt a little dizzy and I got a call from that interview I went to last week and I got rejected, and–” she explained, getting more anxious by the second.
“Hey,” he grabbed her arms as he soothed her. “It's okay,” he pulled her into a hug and she burst into tears. “It's okay, baby girl. It's okay.”
She cried into his shoulder as he held her. Eventually she calmed down enough for them to sit down at the table. Tyler pushed a banana toward her making her eat it. 
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “Do you think we can still make it to the game? Jake is going to wonder why I'm not there?”
Tyler fisted his hands, not in anger toward her but the fact that she still thought of her asshole boyfriend before herself. 
“Don't worry about the game.” He had faith his teammates would be able to win a game even without their Captain in the arena. He also didn't care if he would be called out for leaving in the middle of a game. His coach would probably give him a talking to about his responsibilities as a Captain but he didn't care right now. “You look like you haven't slept in days. You should rest.”
She immediately shook her head. 
“Jake's parents–”
“They're fine at the arena. They're in the sky box.” Fuck Jake's parents honestly. They were just as stuck up as their son and daughter. “Get some sleep. I'll explain to them what happened when I go back to the arena.”
She reluctantly agreed but he didn't leave until she changed into her pajamas and locked the door behind him. 
He booked it back to the arena and arrived right before the end of the game. No one called him out for leaving and he wondered if anyone noticed. 
The locker room was rowdy as he walked in behind the guys. He sat back for the questions with the press in case they asked anything specific. 
“Hook,” one of the lads whispered, yelling at him to get his attention. “Come’re,” Anthony nodded his head for Tyler to get closer.
“Sup’”
“Where'd you go?” Tyler just stared back at him. “I asked one of the trainers to get you a question and they said you ran out of the box.”
It was uncharacteristic for him to ditch his team. But he needed to check on her. 
“I stepped out for a bit,” he answered vaguely.
Anthony inspected him, he hoped he wouldn't have found out. His friend would pry.
“For what?”
Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I had to check on something important.”
“Something or someone?” Anthony raises his eyebrow. 
“Senerchia!” His coach called him, saving him from this conversation.
He knew he'd get interrogated later. Perhaps even the other lads would join in. 
He looked at Jake and figured he should tell him about what happened. Ultimately, he chose to text Lacey and ask her to tell Jake or his family. He didn't want to cause her any more problems.
It was Tyler's first game back since this injury and you wanted to do something special for him as a thank you for last time. So you made him homemade potato chips.
“Hi, I wanted to give you this for your return. I know you can't eat these now but since we're all going out to celebrate after the game, I thought I'd bring them over before you left to the arena.”
“Thanks!” He noticed they were homemade chips. “You didn't have to.”
You shrugged, “I make them sometimes.”
You then noticed his lack of tie and his open collar. “I'll leave you to get dressed.”
“Hey,” he grabbed your elbow gently. “My parents will be at the game tonight. Sit with them, I told them about you.”
“You told your parents about me?” You don't know why you were grinning so wide it hurt.
He shuffled his hair with a slight uprise of his mouth.
“A little.”
You stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat. “I can't wait to meet them and tell them about how welcoming you've been. okay well I'll see you later and congratulations.” 
You tried to keep your hands to your side and not give him a big hug.
It was easy to see how much the team cared for their Captain. Even the WAGs and kids were excited for his return. 
When he got a hat trick within the first quarter and you threw your hat along with the rest of the crowd. You also might have cheered him on a little too loudly for him that Peter, his dad, sent you a small knowing smile.
Afterwards you went out with the rest of the girls to a bar where the team would meet you for drinks. 
The girls were already rowdy after a round of drinks. You caught up with all the gossip and laughed with the others. You felt like you were talking with old friends. Everyone was just so nice and friendly compared to LA. Long Island felt more like a family than a team. You imagined it had a lot to do with Tyler's leadership.
Speaking of the captain, he was across the bar chatting with the “lads”. They were his closest friends and the core of the team as you heard from Jake. Jake didn't like them but you found they were cool guys.
Tyler met your eyes and gave you a small grin. A warm feeling settled over you from the look alone. You gave him a short smile back and glanced back at the table where the girls were talking about Lexy’s new job.
The way she spoke excitedly about it made you ache for something similar. Even though you were enjoying being here it still didn't fulfill you. There was something missing and you really wanted to get back out there and find yourself.
Your relationship with Jake was fine but he was always busy. And you didn't want to feel like a burden to him anymore. Something had to give and you hoped he was okay with it.
“Hey, ready to go home?” Jake's overwhelming scent of his cologne reached you as he placed his large hand on your shoulder. In the background, you heard the girls complain and tell him to stay longer, but you knew he was probably tired from the game and socializing with the team. 
“Yeah,” you turned to him and nodded. “Let me just go to the restroom before we go.”
“Alright, I'll meet you in front,” he was already turning as you stood and got your purse, saying some quick goodbyes with the girls.
As you were leaving you noticed Tyler talking with a very attractive woman by the bar. He made eye contact with you and gave you a small wave as the woman continued talking to him. 
An unknown feeling reeled in your belly but you shook it off as you met Jake outside. But on your way home you kept wondering if Tyler would take that woman home. Not that it was any of your business. Good for him. He was single and he had a good night.
It was close to the playoff season and things were heating up for the Islanders. Unfortunately, things were heating up between you and Jake too and not in a good way.
“Why do you have to look for work now?” Jake complained for the third time since you told him earlier this week. “I'm in the middle of getting my team into the playoffs. I need you to focus here, not on some job you're probably not going to get.”
His words hurt, mostly because you knew he was right. The job you wanted was a coveted spot in one of the best companies in Long Island. You were severely under qualified for the job. 
Jake knew he hit a spot when you turned away from him and sniffed. He sighed and slowly got closer to your back. 
“Babe,” he said softly. “I'm sorry. I know you want to work, and I promise I'll help you find something this summer.”
He slowly turned you around and you buried your face in his chest as you felt tears burning in your eyes. 
“Plus, I don't know if we're going to be staying here if we don't make it all the way to the Cup.”
You looked up at him alarmed.
“What?” You asked, voice hiccuping from crying.
Jake grimaced, “Just this team, babe.” He shook his head, sounding annoyed. “But I don't want to talk about it. And I don't want to see you crying anymore,” he kissed your forehead and brushed your hair away from your face. “You're too pretty to cry. Let me see you smile.”
You did as he said even though you weren't feeling it. Especially when you thought about doing the whole moving thing again. You really hoped things worked out because you think you found your home here in Long Island. 
Two weeks later, the team went on a road trip in Canada. Meanwhile, you were at home prepping for your interview that was looming closer. Every day you went over questions you were sure they'd ask you to see if you were qualified.
You walked around the halls of the apartment building going over your answers in your head . It was something you did to prepare as it usually helped you not forget things if you got anxious. You stumbled when you found someone turning the corner. 
“Hey,” Tyler greeted you, his hand on the handle of his suitcase behind him. Looks like they had returned from their roadie earlier than planned or maybe you lost track of time. “Are you here to see me?”
He grinned at you and you couldn't help grin back until his words hit you.
“Oh! Uh, no,” you smiled awkwardly. “I actually,” you turned your head left and right noticing where you were. “I didn't know I was on this floor. I kind of was going through some stuff in my head and–” you looked at him as he seemed a little confused. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. I'll let you go, you must be tired.”
“Nah, come in,” he nodded to his door. “I haven't seen you in a while. Do you want a drink?”
“I should go see Jake,” you told him, but he insisted.
“Come on, just one drink,” he watched you expectantly and you nodded.
You walked into his apartment and looked around at his place. He had a really nice home. Nothing like the bachelor pad you expected from the captain of the Islanders.
“So how was the roadie?” You asked him once you were sitting at his kitchen nook eating some chips he had out. Jake didn't let you keep any of these snacks at home during playoff season. “The girls and I watched the games at Ruby and Angelo’s. you guys played so well.”
“Yeah, the team is doing fantastic out there,” he sounded proud but quickly grimaced.
“But?” 
He looked at you then swallowed and shook his head. 
“Nothing,” he said but you knew there was something going on and you could only imagine what it was.
“Are you and Jake still butting heads?” 
He looked at you curiously.
“Yeah,” he answered, like he was not expecting you to know about it. 
“Jake just really cares about hockey,” you shared. “I know he can sometimes be a little overbearing but he means well.”
Tyler was quiet as he looked at the countertop and moved his hand repeatedly over a spot. You reached over and touched his hand. He stopped moving it and kept his eyes glued on your hand over his.
“Why don't you come for dinner? I can cook something up, give you guys a home cooked meal and y'all can have a chance to talk outside of the locker room,” you suggested and smiled warmly as he finally met your eyes.
“I don't think that's a good idea,” he responded and you took your hand off of him. “We just got out of a six hour plane ride. I bet he's tired from the roadie.”
“Yeah, you're right,” you agreed. “I should probably go check on him. He's probably wondering where I am. I left my bag in the apartment.”
You got off the stool and Tyler stepped around the kitchen island to catch your wrist. You looked at his fingers around you as if it burned. He let it go just as quickly.
“You didn't tell me what was on your mind,” he said.
“Oh, uh it's nothing. Just another job interview. I'm not sure if I'm going anyway,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your hair and avoided his face. “I'm probably not gonna get it anyway.”
“Hey,” he got closer, only an inch between you. “Don't talk like that. Go. You never know what could happen. I mean you got more chances than us winning the Stanley Cup,” he joked.
“Oh, you guys are winning Tyler. You're an amazing Captain,” you gazed into each other's eyes for an extended minute until you finally broke when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. “I'll see you later,” you told him as you left his apartment and hurried to yours where Jake was downstairs calling you.
Things just didn't seem to sort themselves out with Jake. Lately, all you did was fight. He was always in a mood when he was home despite the team doing amazing.
Sometimes you wondered if Jake was happy with you. Or if he was happy with anything? All he did was talk shit about his team. Especially Tyler who he unashamedly despised.
At the same time, you couldn't respect Tyler more. He was leading his team to the finals. The few times you saw him, because he was so busy, he was always very nice despite being tired.
But all Jake did was complain. Either you didn't have his things ready when he wanted them or you cooked the wrong meal. There was a cold distance between you two during dinner, on the drive home, and in your bed.
Sometimes you cry yourself to sleep. Your anxiety was off the charts especially with the job interview looming closer. 
Tyler and the girls encouraged you while Jake remained oblivious that you were still taking the interview. Despite this you still went to every one of his games and put on your Playoff jacket with his name on the back as you cheered him on with the other WAGs.
When the team won the last game to make it into the finals you went into the locker room with the rest of the WAGs to celebrate. 
You got sweaty hugs from the guys as you passed by looking for Jake who was somewhere in the back celebrating. Then you crossed looks with Tyler who was shirtless with a huge smile on his face. 
“Congratulations,” you told him, resisting the urge to embrace him too. He just looked so damn good. His chain hung on his neck and his hair was all over the place. Tattoos that you'd never seen on display.
He didn't care though as he grabbed you in a hug. You held onto his shoulders and smiled into his skin.
“You deserve it,” you told him.
“Couldn’t have done it without you being here,” he said. You pulled back and saw him grinning from ear to ear, brightening the whole room.
You didn't get to ask him what he meant when you heard Jake before he came enveloping your body and pushing you forward brusquely. 
“I'm going to the finals, babe,” he said in your ear obnoxiously.
“Yes you are,” you smiled at Tyler whose grin faded. 
You rolled your eyes. Can't they play nice? They just made it to the finals. 
“Gonna get the Cup, aren't we, Hook?” Tyler glanced down at Jake's arm around your chest.
“Hook?” You asked.
“That's his nickname. Because he looks like a fucking kid like that movie,” Jake joked, probably mistaking Hook for Peter Pan, but it sounded like a jab at Tyler by the look on the other man's face.
Awkwardly you took his arm off you and turned him around to get him to go change so you could go. Tyler disappeared and you breathed a sigh of relief at dissolving the tension between them.
You sat in Jake's booth as you waited and noticed his phone buzz. One look at it and you frowned. Taking it in your hand you put in his code and opened the new text. 
Congratulations baby!! I can't wait to celebrate together🥂 here's a sneak peak 💕
You watched the picture emotionlessly. It was her. Of course, it was her. His one true love. Jake was talking to his ex again– No. He was seeing her again.
The celebratory setting wasn't for you anymore. You walked out of the locker room. You didn't belong there. You never did.
Jake denied it. He told you she was the one texting him. That was the first time. It didn't mean anything. He deleted it. He blocked her. 
But you knew. 
It would never be over. He would always be a cheater. Most importantly he would always run back to her. Because it's happened before. 
Even the trade to Long Island didn't keep them apart. Jake told you he'd asked for it to get away from her and give you guys a chance. 
You stupidly believed him. You believed him over and over again. You left everything for him. You're life was his and he didn't care every time he pushed you down and hurt you.
“I made this move for you. Had to deal with a shit Captain just for you,” he insisted.
“Bullshit!” You spat loudly, you were sure the neighbors heard as you slammed the door to the apartment.
“You got traded because you wanted more money and they wouldn't give it to you. Now you're placing all this shit on Tyler. And me. You always blame everyone else except yourself.”
“Maybe I had to go looking for someone else because you can't support me at all. Instead you're wasting your time on that stupid interview,” he snorted. “Don't think I didn't see those cards. I'm working my ass off getting my team through the playoffs and you're out here doing that wasting your time.”
“Fuck you. All I've done since I got here was try to make this move easier for you, but of course Jake couldn't have the attention on him for one second and you call her back.”
“I don't need you to do this right now,” he threw his hands in the air and went down the hall to your room. “I got the game in two days. I'll crash at a hotel.”
He came back with a duffel bag. You watched him through teary eyes. It was like deja Vu. This had happened before. You chasing after him was a common occurrence. Jake knew it. He was just waiting for you to do it again. 
However, this time you didn't say anything. You wiped your tears and watched him. He gave you an expectant look back. One word and he'd turn around and gaslight you into believing you would never find a man like him again. 
“Man, fuck this,” he said. “No one is going to fuck you like me you know that babe.”
It was a big day, you had the interview today. The Islanders also played for the Stanley Cup with home field advantage. Jake was staying in a hotel until you moved out. He made it clear he was letting you stay there until you “packed your shit and left.”
You had boxes delivered and strewn all over the place getting your things in order. Still, unsure if you should even go to the interview. You didn't have to stay in Long Island anymore. What was the point?
But somewhere in the back of your mind a voice very similar to Tyler's told you to go. You knew you'd regret it if you didn't go. 
Getting your best dress out of your luggage you ran to the bathroom to get ready. You left a mess inside then got your resume and bag to leave. 
Traffic was a bitch as you left the interview. You sat in the back of a cab with your back relaxed in the backseat. Head lolling to the side as you stared out the window. Thinking of never seeing this city again. 
There were people walking the streets with Islanders Jerseys with Tyler's last name and number on the back. Most of them were heading to the game inside the arena you were passing. 
Inside must be the family you thought you had made here. But that life was never real. All the dreams you made in this city are gone. Your interview didn't go well. You just knew it.  It was time to go.
The crowd roared in the UBS arena as the horn sounded signaling the end of the game and the Islanders win. Tyler was swept up in the celebration. He carried the Stanley Cup over his head and passed it to his teammates.
The party continued long after the game. Everyone was in high spirits and hugging their significant others and family who came down. Tyler hugged his crying father and got a kiss from his mom. Everything seemed right except it wasn't.
He knew what happened between you and Jake. You told Lexy and it tracked down to him. He tried calling you and seeing you, but you always missed each other despite living in the same building.
There was nothing holding you in this city anymore. But he hopes you'd decide to stay. Maybe you did get that job you wanted. Maybe you'd want to get to know him. Maybe it was the champagne and beer flowing that he decided to go and find out.
You had watched the game on TV. Shouting and cheering as Tyler made the final goal sealing their fate as Stanley Cup Champs. You were so happy for him but you had to get to packing. 
The knock at your door surprised you but you knew it wouldn't be Jake right now so you relaxed.
“Tyler,” you were surprised to see him. “Shouldn't you be celebrating with your team?”
“I couldn't stay there knowing you weren't there.”
Tyler gave you a second to process what he said then took his chance and kissed you for the first time. 
He caught you off guard showing up in your–well whatever this place was– and surprising you with his words and his kiss. So it took you a moment to react, but when you did you melted into him. 
His playoff beard tickled your face and he tasted like alcohol, but you didn't mind getting drunk off him. It felt like you were floating but then you realized you had wrapped your legs around him and he was carrying you further inside. 
Tyler pressed your back into a wall as you dug your fingers in his brown hair and he moaned into your mouth. He keeps chasing you with his kiss and you give in to him until you're both heaving for air.
“Tyler,” you manage to say tenderly, keeping him close with an arm around his neck. 
He steals a quick kiss again and you smile against it but your mind is still reeling from having him show up at your door.
“I know you have questions but you really can't say you didn't see this coming. Please, tell me you felt the same,” his said, in a slightly begging tone.
“I did,” you whispered, although it was just the two of you alone in the apartment. “But I can't do this.”
A hurtful look came across his face and your heart aches for him. He had to know though, you did care for him. 
“Because you still love him?”
“No,” you shook your head with a dry laugh. “I don't think I've loved him in a long time. It's just that,” you lowered your hands to his chest and realized you were still in his arms with your thighs on his hips.
He didn't let you go though. 
“Then what baby?” He asked, gently.
“I don't want to cause trouble for you. People will say I got between you and your teammate. Jake already hates you and your sponsors” you sigh.
Tyler had a reputation. He was the face of the franchise. Getting involved with the ex of his teammate was a huge risk you weren't going to let him take. 
“Fuck Jake,” Tyler interrupted your inner thoughts. “I don't give a fuck what he says. I just won the Stanley Cup, no one is going to say shit.” He shifted your weight. “Do you feel what you're doing to me?”
You mewled as he rubbed his erection against you. His mouth comes down to your neck and he presses you to the wall.  
“God, I've been wanting this since you first came to the skybox,” he groaned into your skin as you ran your nails through his scalp. 
Your head fell back on the wall as you moved your lower body for some kind of friction. 
“Is that why you said I should go back to LA?” You teased him, remembering what he told his friends.
“I wanted Blasser to go back to LA. Not you,” he smirked. “I’m not letting you go, doll, so you can stop squirming,” he pressed a kiss to your lips and placed his hands on your waist. 
“Hm,” you moaned, nibbling on his lip. 
“Such pretty noises,” he said. “All for me.”
“Where are we going?” You asked, turning your head around as he walked you to the door.
“Your new home,” he replied. “With me.”
You grabbed his face in the elevator in another exploring kiss. Your heartbreak fading away with Tyler's unabashed showings of love and devotion. 
Hook tag List: @crowleysqueenofhell @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @legit9thlunaticwarrior @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @99hook @5secondsofmoxley @wrestlersownmyheart @writtingrose @sizzlings-stuff @wickedval (ask/dm to be added or removed)
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grlscrushing · 23 hours
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GET HIM BACK! - 14. of all the things i should have done, i don’t want to love you from afar (1246 words)
yuta felt like a little boy again. this wouldn’t be the first time he saw you (obviously) but his stomach feels like theres worms and crickets and ants in it. as he gets closer to the bench of the park where he first met you, he starts to wonder if he should tell you everything right now, the whole situation with lina with this fake personality he created about himself to hurt you.
he can see your figure start to appear in his eyesight and he thinks you look really pretty, especially right now, with the moonlight and the lights shitty lamp-posts that probably will never get fixed shining on you makes him want to believe he didn’t ruin everything and that you guys are together and going on a late night snack run (he wants to believe that so badly).
“hi,” he says as he stands in front of you, you look up from your phone and smile at him (his heart feels like it comes to a standstill, how can you still smile at him like that). “hi,” you respond back to him, “to be honest…i did have something in mind to do with you but, its way too late now so i might have to take you to it next time, but i do have another thing we can go see, if we can wait until eleven-thirtyish? we can walk to the spot, its like a ten minute walk from here, if you don’t want to thats fine too!” it doesn’t help that he’s nervous and really wants this night to go well. “we can walk! but i wish i brought a better sweater with me, this one kinda sucks,” you say with a small giggle as you both start walking, with him leading the way just slightly, “you can use mine!” he offers and starts unzipping his sweater, “i feel bad, you don’t have to do that,” you smiled towards him, “i insist yn! i’m not even cold!” (he’s definitely saying anything just so you can take the sweater from him, he hopes you even forget to give it back to him and take it home with you). “thank you yuta,” you take the sweater from him and put it on.
as you guys walk, its quiet, and the breeze is not too harsh for the night which is surprising to him, if he’s lucky enough, maybe it will rain and he has an excuse to spend more time with you and you guys will have to shelter yourselves from it (it’s so cliche, he knows).
“i wanted to say this earlier when i saw you but i was nervous, but you look really pretty yn,” he starts, your stomach turns, not expecting him to say it out of nowhere, “um, thank you, i kinda wished i had time to change cause this pants are kind of thin, i get cold easily, but you’re sweater is helping!” you say, he mumbles a small ‘sorry for texting you out of the blue for tonight’ he looks at you as you guys get closer to the destination, “before we get there, you’re gonna need to close your eyes, or i can put my hands over them! you won’t fall or anything, i promise,” he says, “are you going to murder me?” you say, his eyes widen, “WHAT? NO,” he says, a little loud where you cover his mouth with your hands, “i’m just teasing you,” he lifts his hands to move your soft ones away from his mouth, “sorry,” he looks the other way, “we’re here, i know it looks suspicious, but this is the best view, it'll be starting in a few minutes, so, please close your eyes,” you look at the direction he’s looking at and see a path into some trees, you’re a little hesitant but you know yuta would never take you to some place you can get really hurt at, so you do as he says and cover your eyes with your hands and he gently goes behind you and grabs both your shoulders and starts leading you inside the path.
“okay, you can open them,” he says and at first you’re confused, there’s a metal bench and a little campfire almost at the edge of the cliff, probably 20 feet away from it, it made so sense at all, “i know i was joking when i said about murdering me, but now i'm really confused,” he walks towards the bench and gestures you to join him, “trust me, i really hope you like it,” you go towards him and sit next to him, sitting in silence you wait until you start seeing a light radiate the sky, looking like its falling into a certain direction, one, two, three, four, and then five start to follow behind it and you realize it’s a meteor shower that yuta took you to.
“oh yuta, it’s so beautiful,” you say while looking up.
there’s many times yuta has thought you looked pretty, but right now? he thinks you heavenly, and before he can even think about it, he intertwined his hand with yours and speaks, “yn, i’m really sorry,” you look at him, “what are you apologizing for?” he looks down at both of your hands, “i’m sorry for hurting you, there’s a lot of things i want to tell you that i can’t right now but i want to apologize right now for basically cheating on you,” he pauses, “you’re the only girl that that makes me have all these bugs in my stomach,” you interrupt with a giggle , “you mean butterflies?” he smiles, “yeah, and i know i messed up, but i really can’t bear the thought of not having you by my side. i want us to try again, if you want to take things slow, we can do that too, and i know i don’t deserve it but i’ll do anything to earn your trust back and make things right between us. i really miss you yn and everything we shared together, of all the things i have done, i don’t want to love you from afar anymore,” he tells you, to be truthful, you felt like all day all you’ve done is be shocked, you know you still loved yuta, and it’s one of those times where you have to decide if this is gonna be a good idea or not.
but to you, you don’t need time to decide, you know he hurt you, and any rational person who got cheated on would never come back to their ex, to you, you and yuta shared a connection you don’t believe you can share with anyone else.
so you lean into his face, “i don’t mind starting over, but this time, i want to take it a little slow, lets start off by going on a few dates first,” you pause and see the hopeful look in his eye, “okay,” he looks at you with sincerity in his eyes, “i promise i will love you better now,” he tells you.
you’re nervous how this will go, but as you lean in closer to yuta as you see the meteor shower, and he drapes his arm around you as you both sit next to each other as he leans down a bit to kiss your forehead, the nervousness leaves your body and all you can think about is how this moment will probably live in your mind forever.
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notes ; DEFINITELY NOT MY BEST WORK it lowkey sucks but i wanted it to be ready in time for the updates, i also wanted them to kiss but yn said she wanna take it slow fr and also IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO TAG SOME PEOPLE IN THE LAST CHAPTER I WAS READING THE NAMES AS I WAS PUTTING IT IN AND IDK HOW I SKIPPED OVER SOME??? im genuinely so sorry to the people i missed, was really not my intention i swear
TAGLIST ; @finnydraws @kiriryuu @reenail @marvelahsobx @90s-belladonna @inmybunnyera @aespie @odxrilove @simpforarmihn @manooffline @haechansbbg @lostinneocity @aloverga @syzavxy @clean-soap @starjunjun @swee7dream @stardustbyeol
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