#if only i wasn't so tired all the time i would stand a chance but. I don't

[riri-twix]

Can We Become We?

Chapter 3: So Much, Yet So Little

Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.

The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?

She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter

You can also read it on ao3 here

When everything was finally over, it was way past midnight. A majority of the guests had already filed out of the building, while the remaining few were gathered in small clusters, quietly chatting among themselves – the elders probably.

The whole wedding passed by in a whirlwind of activity, a blur of colour and sound that your mind couldn't quite grasp. The whole time, it was difficult to ignore the unfamiliar light weight around your ring finger.

All you could really focus on was maintaining that smile on your face, feeling the ache in your jaw from keeping it there for so long. It almost felt like your face was going to get stuck like that.

The night breeze was cool on your skin as you exited the wedding hall, grateful to breathe in some fresh air. You could finally drop the fake smile. Satoru and Suguru had moved to the side, each of them standing in front of their respective parents as goodbyes were being said.

Your father steps forward and takes your hand, looking you directly in the eye. “I know this wasn't what you wanted, but you need to be strong.” He says gently, his voice laced with a mix of concern.

You just nod, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

“It’s getting late, we’ll let you go.” Your mother smiles softly. "We’ll miss you so much. But please come visit us soon, alright?”

“Yeah, of course.” You try to keep your voice neutral, but you can't help but feel a little resentment towards your parents.

You knew that if you expressed your true feelings, it would only lead to more drama and stress, and you were tired of the fighting. Instead, you simply offer a tight-lipped smile and mutter a quick goodbye.

You turn around, without giving them a hug. Nothing felt real, as if it was all just some kind of dream.

A gleaming, white limousine was waiting for you, Satoru, and Suguru. The sleek car stood out against the darkness.

You’ve never been inside a limo before. You always thought that if you were going to get the chance one day, it would be so much fun, to feel like a literal celebrity. But all you felt like was a robot on autopilot.

The chauffeur, a stout, middle-aged man in a dark suit, opened the rear door for you. He offered you a polite smile and ushered you inside. The smell of freshly cleaned leather and pine air fresheners welcomed you into its embrace, as you sink back into the plush seat.

After you, Suguru enters the limo. You exchange a brief glance with him as he gets in, but neither of you says anything. Satoru follows suit, before the chauffeur closes the door. Soon, the car pulls away from the curb, silently and smoothly, like a ghost on wheels.

Between the three of you, no one speaks. And it stays like that for a while. You don’t really care though, not with the way your cheeks were hurting. Talking was the last thing on your mind right now.

You're tired, you're emotional, and above all, you're done. You’re so done with everything.

You lean your head against the window, letting out a deep, exasperated sigh as your muscles finally release the tension they've been carrying. The cool glass feels soothing against your skin. You close your eyes, focusing on breathing.

Tap tap

You frown, shrugging away the light poking on your shoulder.

Tap tap tap

“What?” You murmur groggily, not quite ready to open your eyes.

“Y/n?” That was Suguru, his voice soft but insistent. “We’re here.”

Your eyes flutter open into a squint, vision unfocused as you lift your head up from the glass. Wait what? Did you fall asleep?

“Oh.” You mumbled, trying to shake off the exhaustion that still clings to you. “I fell asleep.”

“It's okay.” Suguru says again, his tone comforting in its familiarity. For a brief second, you’re grateful that he’s being nice.

Satoru rolls down his window as a rather polite looking man with short, black hair and glasses walks up to the limo.

The man bows respectfully, arms by his sides, before straightening up again. “Sir.” He says his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Stop calling me that, Ijichi.” Satoru extends his hand out of the window, his face stoic and expressionless. “Just call me Satoru.”

Ijichi, who had been standing at attention, relaxes slightly at Satoru's words. The man produces a small set of keys from his pocket and places them in Satoru's waiting palm, before Satoru wraps his fingers around them.

Ijichi’s voice takes on a shy, almost meek tone. “You know I can't do that, sir.” He replied, a light blush growing more visible on his cheeks. “Just call me if you need anything, sir.” Satoru nods dismissively at that, and he stepped aside.

The driver takes off again, the car's wheels roll along the quiet residential road, until it eventually slows to a stop.

You blink and suddenly the fatigue of the night's events disappears. The house is not too big, no where near the grandiose of the Gojo estate, but it definitely wasn’t small either.

Satoru is quick to spring into action. Without wasting a second, he thrusts open the car door and leaps out, his movements swift and fluid. It’s fascinating, how a man with such long limbs has such precise mobility.

Suguru stays seated next to you, his eyes glued to the house in front of him. Was he overwhelmed by all of this? Should you comfort him?

Hesitating, you push the silent question away, and instead reach out to open the door. But before you can even touch the handle, the door is suddenly opened by the chauffeur.

A wave of irritation suddenly washes over you.

You suppress a frustrated huff and step down onto the pavement. You know he was just doing his job and all, but for some reason, you wanted to open the door by yourself. Annoyed, you pull at the hem of your dress with one hand to make sure it doesn't get dirty.

Satoru had already reached the wide front porch, slipping the key into the door’s lock. As you make your way to him, you notice the familiar silhouette of your car parked in the driveway of the house, beside one other. Someone must’ve dropped it off here.

Satoru had moved to the side, letting you and Suguru step through the threshold and onto the small foyer, before shutting the door. The automatic lock clicks, and the reality of everything hits you like a ton of bricks.

The atmosphere immediately shifts to something tense and awkward. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, not really sure of your place in this situation. What do you do know? Can you just walk in or…?

When Suguru decides to speak up, you felt like you could breathe again. “We need to sit down and discuss this.” His voice is calm and measured, as if he knows exactly what to do in a situation like this.

Satoru, on the other hand, looks like he’s had enough of the playing nice and pretending they’re all happy when they’re not. He shakes his head, a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on his face.

“Discuss what exactly?” Satoru says, his voice sharp.

“This.” Suguru’s eyes narrow. “All of this.” He gestured broadly at the room and everything it contains. “And us.”

His bun, which was normally full and round, was now sagging lower on his head, weighing down from the strain of the long day. And yet, even with his hair less than perfect, it didn’t make him look any less stunning.

Satoru's lip curls into a sneer. “There is no us.” He spits, cold and biting. “There is just you, and you, and me.” He pointed at Suguru, then you, then at himself. “I said to stay out of each other’s business.”

Suguru's hand runs down his face, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, calming breath. I know that, and I said I agree with it.” Don’t groan. “But it's not that simple.” He opens his eyes, looking directly at Satoru. "We have to sit down and list everything, talk and work something out."

Your eyes dart back and forth between them, lips sealed tight to avoid adding any more fuel to the fire.

Satoru doesn’t nothing for a moment, as if he was thinking. Then his whole demeanour changes. “You wanna sit down and talk?” He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fine then.”

He turns on his heel, walking down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoes through the empty house. You and Suguru have no choice but to follow.

You take your seats on the couches, facing each other, the air heavy with unease. Satoru crosses his arms, a sneer on his face as he nods with his chin. “Go on, curtain bangs.” He snarls, his tone thick with contempt. “Talk all you want.”

Suguru feels a pulse throb on the side of his temple. Satoru’s attitude was really starting to piss him off. But he breathes. Control yourself. “Okay, so first things first. Are we all getting our own private space?”

Satoru’s expression remains stoic and cold, but you can see a slight edge to his voice as he responds. “If this is about bedrooms, then yes.” Blunt and to the point. “There are plenty of rooms to go around. Pick whatever.”

As the words sink, something in your heart settles.

You’ve heard that, generally, most people have sex on their wedding night. And you can’t deny the fact that, while the thought had been looming in the back of your mind the whole day, you kept telling yourself that nothing would happen. Because in the end Satoru and Suguru were forced into this too.

You were more than reassured now.

“Okay.” Suguru nods. “Now, what about everything in the house.”

“What about it?” Satoru raises his perfect, white eyebrow at Suguru, and your heart skipped a beat.

“It is yours after all. We’re basically living here as guests, are we not?”

Okay, Suguru’s point makes sense. Satoru didn’t choose for you to live here with him, it was an obligation. It’s only fair if he sets the rules.

Satoru's response is as cold as ever. He shrugs, as if to say he doesn’t give a shit. “Just don’t come into my room.” His voice was devoid of emotion. “And keep your business in your own rooms.”

You look at him in confusion, trying to understand what he meant by that. “Business?” Your eyebrows furrow.

But he only scoffs. “What? You think I’m stupid or something?” He sneers at you both, every word coming out of his mouth was bitter. “Don’t act like you’re not gonna be screwing around.”

Well that felt like a personal slap to your face. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You scowled. Was he seriously accusing you of bringing random people to fuck with? As if it was that easy? You couldn’t even rizz yourself up in front of a mirror let alone a whole other person!

“Pretty sure it was self explanatory.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “But like I said, I don’t care. This,” He takes his ring off his finger. “Means nothing to me. Do whatever the fuck you want.” As if to drive the point home, he tosses it on the coffee table.

The room is silent for a moment before Suguru speaks up, his voice firm and steady. “Okay. Well, it’s settled then.” He picks up the ring and puts it back into Satoru's palm, curling his finger over it. “We’ll stay out of your room, and we should be fine.”

“Whatever.” Satoru stands up and walks away, leaving the two of you behind.

He didn’t want anything do with you, or anyone. Everyone was the same anyway. Just greedy slobs who only cared about what they could get from him. It wasn't just a feeling he came up with overnight, it was something he knew from experience, having been used and hurt in the past by people he had let close to him.

He’s let himself open his heart before. He let himself touch and be touched. Only for the person who ‘loved’ him only act that way for his father’s money. After they got what they wanted, they had spilled the news that they never actually loved him.

The very next day, he saw them share a post with their partner, showing off their newest car. The car he had bought as a gift.

It was just one person, he tried to tell himself. He needed to have hope.

He waited some time before opening up again. This time, the one who proclaimed love lasted longer than his previous one. He was staring to believe that their promise of forever might be real.

Until they asked for a huge amount of money for their project overseas. Satoru wouldn’t say no to someone he loves right? Except, they to left him right after their project succeeded.

Satoru realised that he would only be a fool to believe anyone ever again. No one was ever going to love him. Just his money and his father’s money. There was no point in anything. He couldn’t care less about you and Suguru.

But despite all this, there's a part of him that's still searching for connection and love. He's afraid of getting hurt again, but he's also lonely and longing for something real.

The soft pillow cradles your head as you stare up at the ceiling. You don’t know how long you’ve been awake. There was only the rise and fall of your chest. The bed you were on is so soft, so comfy. One would think you’d have blacked out the moment you touched it, considering how tired you were. But you couldn’t.

Your eyes were sore. You sigh and roll over, trying to force your eyes closed, but it's no use. Your mind wouldn’t switch off.

Suddenly you hear it. The soft, mournful notes of a violin fill the air, piercing through the silence of the night. (Violin playing)

At first, you're not sure if it's real or just a part of your sleep-deprived imagination. But as the music continues to play, the sound becomes more distinct, and you realise that it's coming from somewhere outside.

You make your way to the window, eyes straining in the dark as you search for the source. Then you see him. Satoru. He wasn’t asleep either? You slide the window open.

The night air was cool, but Satoru seemed to hardly notice the chill. He stood still on the back porch, with nothing but the moonlight illuminating his figure with a silver lining. The white hair on his head seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

He held his violin under his chin, the bow in his other hand, moving effortlessly across the strings as he played a melancholic melody. It was a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo through the night, filling the air with a sense of loneliness and longing.

He looks otherworldly.

Suddenly, weariness takes hold of you, wrapping a comforting blanket over your body. You feel your shoulders relax, your limbs growing heavy. You sink into the comfort of your bed once more. Your eyes drifted to a gentle close, listening as the sounds float in through your window.

Meanwhile, Suguru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep at all.

On one hand, the bed is incredibly soft, and he's grateful to have a place to rest. On the other hand, he feels like he doesn't deserve it. He's used to sleeping on much stiffer, less comfortable mattresses, and the idea of sleeping on anything this heavenly? It feels almost wrong.

He couldn't shake off the thought that he should sleep on the floor or something. He didn't deserve to be given this kind of thing, to be surrounded by all this. It was a feeling of guilt and inadequacy, that he wasn't good enough.

Slowly, Satoru's violin fills the house with a sweet, muffled song. Suguru sits on his bed, leaning his head back against the headboard. His eyes close, and his expression falls into one of complete relaxation.

A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and he hums along with the tune, lost in the rhythm. The sweet song washes away the thoughts plaguing his mind, helping him to find a sense of peace.

He was so tired. Maybe he could fall asleep after all.

chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)

taglist: @keira80808

#satosugu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #getou suguru x you #geto suguru #suguru #satosugu #stsg #stsg x reader #satoru x suguru #polyamory #poly satosugu #ao3 fanfic #multple chapter series

[kindaeccentric]

feeling constantly tired will make you google shit like 'can chronically ill people become writers', 'chronically exhausted film director' 'adhd and work in media'

#i feel like such a failure #i wasted so many years just trying to survive through bullying through a depressive episode through physical illness #and through it all I never had money either #It's whining hours sorry #and I'm only getting older I can't afford to waste more time on schools on other degrees with no guarantee of success #i can't focus my memory is a sieve #if only i wasn't so tired all the time i would stand a chance but. I don't #if only i was a nepo baby. instead I'm a nobody from nowhere #i have nobody that can help me but myself and myself is barely able to live one day at a time #i can try to push myself but there is no direction to push towards #I'm the worst loser in the world

[andersonlore]

Abby and reader getting into an argument where they both know r is right but Abby is just being so goddamn stubborn ohmygod. So r just ups and flashes Abby with their tits to shut her up. Abby stutters and slowly loses her resolve until she finally shortcircuits

❛ THE PRETTY GIRL BEHIND THE BAR. ❜

♱

†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, dom!reader, sub!abby, poc!friendly, jealous!abby, soft nsfw, stubborn!abby.

Abby never should have been flirting with the bartender. She knows it just as well as you do. You had every right to be upset. Abby was your girl, not anyone else's, and she just let it happen. Right in front of you.

It made you sick and God, her dismal of it was even more infuriating. Her stubbornness shining through as you tried to make her see where you were coming from, but it seemed the attention was going right to her head.

"So, what if she was flirting? Why does it matter?" Abby was trying to worm her way out, but you wouldn't let her. Not this time.

"It's one thing to entertain it Abby but c'mon, look with your eyes. You let her feel you up right in front of me. Do you seriously not see how disrespectful that is?”

"She was not all over me and she did not feel me up." Abby defended.

"Really? You're going to play dumb right now? That's the side you want to take. You've got to be kidding me." Clearly, you were frustrated but your words only angered Abby.

"You're calling me dumb right now? For the love of god, she didn't touch me."

"Maybe you didn't notice because you were too caught up in the pretty girl behind the bar but anyone with eyes could see she was all over you." You walked away from her as the two of you walked into your shared apartment as Abby slammed the door behind her.

"She kept touching your arm and you did nothing. She tugged at the end of your braid; you did nothing. Anderson, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and you just let her! It was like I was fucking invisible." You were beyond pissed and the smirk on her lips wasn't helping.

Abby was too damn confident for her own good, always putting her foot in her mouth before she even spoke.

"Anderson? Wow. You're really angry, baby." She took a step closer, but you took two steps back.

"Don't 'baby' me. Are you being serious right now?"

You couldn’t believe her. She had the nerve to stand there, beautiful as can be, with a smile you would kill for but right now? You wanted nothing more than to deck her in the face. Abby always did this, and it pissed you off to no fucking end. Abby always had to let you know how wanted she is and how lucky you were to have her. It truly was nauseating.

“Just admit it, Anderson. She fucking touched you and you let her.” You threw it back at her, tired of this back and forth.

“If you call me Anderson one more time, I swear to god.”

“You’ll what? Flirt with someone else in front of me?” You stepped forward, cocking your head to the side. “I have to say, the more you do it, it might just lose it’s impact.”

“Are you sure? You’re pretty wound up right now, baby. Just can’t stand when my attention is elsewhere, can you?” 

You wanted to scream at her, but you couldn’t. Even if the chances of those baby blues welling up into tears were slim, you couldn’t let your anger get the best of you. All of this was intentional. Her pressing, her flirting, her acting like she oblivious to it. Abby wanted a reaction out of you. Boy, was she getting one. Still, you didn’t want to do anything to upset her, even if it seemed she was trying to do the opposite for you.

If she wanted to play with fire, so be it. You’d just have to cool her off enough so you could have a conversation about this without her cocky persona jumping in at any given moment.

The smirk dropped from her Abby’s face as soon as her brain registered what you were doing. Carefully, nimble fingers were unbuttoning the vest top you had on. You’d worn it just for her too. Abby loves the way it makes your breasts look, cleavage busting at the top. It usually would make her insatiable, but no. Tonight, she decided to keep her attention elsewhere.

You would make her pay for it.

“What are you doing?” Her breath hitches, and you try to smirk but you’re failing just as she was before.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“W-We’re fighting now, right?” Abby was so unsure of herself. Part of her believed she was imagining this. You slowly taking off your top, and God you weren’t wearing a bra either.

You really were trying to kill her, Abby thought.

“Yep, you’re really pissing me off, Anderson.”

“T-them, uh, why- oh fuck.” Abby tried to speak but it trailed off to a curse as you tossed your top onto the back of couch and made your way right to her.

“Why don’t you tell me exactly why your attention was elsewhere?” Your perky tits on display for her was torture, because she knew if she tried to touch you, her hand would be smacked immediately.

“C’mon, don’t be shy Anderson. Tell how much of a crazy fucking girlfriend I am. Go on. Fucking speak.” You demanded from her, but the blonde still found herself tripping over her words, unable to complete one sentence.

“I-I, um, y-y-you know, fuck, what do you want me to say baby? Please, I’ll do anything. Jus’ want to make it up to you.” Her eyes maintain eye contact with flesh exposed for her enjoyment, or rather yours. You liked doing this to her. Flipping the dominate switch to submissive and watching her crumble.

Abby knew it would be more than worth it once you had the harness and strap on, fucking her so dumb. Her pussy fluttered at the thought of it. She wanted you to stretch her out – turn her into your little fuck toy. You liked it, loved it even. Tearing apart someone so strong, until she was putty in your hands and begging for it.

It’s what she deserved after pulling the little stunt today.

She needed to be put in her place and you were more than happy to oblige.

“For starters, stop looking at my tits and look in my eyes.” Abby obeyed you, anticipating your next move.

“Now, be a good girl. Go upstairs, strip for me. I want you naked on the bed, and Mommy will be up there to remind you exactly who you belong to.” You slapped her ass as she moved hastily up the steps leading into your bedroom.

Let’s just say, Abby was in the for a long night.

#✭・۪ ⊹ ֗ ray’s works #omg me posting two days in a row? who am i #this was so fun to write honestly #lesbian #wlw sapphic #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson x you #abby x you #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #sub!abby anderson #sub abby #abby anderson angst #abby anderson the last of us #tlou #tlou2

[jpitha]

Hunting

It is unlikely that humans are the only predator species to achieve sapience in the galaxy.

In order to be a successful predator one has to be intelligent enough to learn your prey's movements and be able to think ahead to what they're going to do next but also be flexible enough in your thinking that you can improvise if the situation chances. If you don't have this elasticity, you won't be a very successful predator.

Humans are very successful predators.

****

Greg bent down low and spoke as quietly as he could to the worried Sefigan next to him. "I need you to stay as still as you can. I'm going to go around, and try and surprise the Gren guarding the exit."

The three Sefigans, caught between wanting to obey Greg and staying silent but also trying to communicate that they thought it was suicide to do so started shaking.

"No, no, it'll be fine. I've been watching him. He's not really paying attention." Greg stood silently and put one finger to his lips, then smiled.

Moving much quieter than one would think given his mass, Greg crept away, hunched down just a little to keep motion out of the tops of the bushes they used to hide. The Sefigans watched in horrified fascination as Greg would take a few steps and then freeze, not even breathing while he watched the Gren.

As he walked, he made no noise at all over the soft sand, his feet finding purchase slowly. The Sefigans, a small furry prey species from a rocky mountainous world felt very old fears from the most early parts of their brains while watching him hunt the Gren.

The Gren guard was panning slowly as he guarded the exit, his fur flat, his eyes dull and his mouthparts drooping. If one knew a bit about Gren physiology one could easily see that he was bored and tired. His shift wasn't due to end for another 3 demi-cycles and nothing usually ever happened on this exit.

When Greg was no more than 2 meters away, he reached down and picked up a stone, no larger than a comm badge. He raised his arm and in one silent fluid motion, tossed the stone high and far over his head, to hide its origin. It clattered against the wall on the far side of the pen, opposite to where Greg was standing. The noise and motion caught the Gren's eye and his whole body swung over to where the stone landed.

His back was turned to Greg.

Greg bent his legs low building energy and took two steps and lept onto the Gren's back. His higher mass bowled the taller but much lighter Gren over and the Gren's head hit the stone with a hollow thwack.

Greg jumped up off the Gren and checked him quickly. He was dead. Trotting quickly over to where the Sefigans were still hiding he motioned for them to follow.

Still terrified, they followed this... ambush predator they were scared of and by the time they reached him, he had gotten the comm out of the Gren's pack and was fiddling with a ring that had complicated studs all around it, fitting them against the door until one clicked and the door hissed open.

Minutes later they were all running across the desert to the canal below where they had hoped to cling to the side of a barge and float to the spaceport.

"Human Greg! Human Greg!" The smallest Sefigan called as they jogged down the sandy hill towards the canal.

"What is it Li? Can it wait?"

"That was amazing! I've never seen a human hunt before! Is that how they all do it?"

"Not really? Humans developed as persistence hunters, not ambush hunters, but as you well know, skills can be taught."

"Persistence hunter?"

"Yeah, my ancestors would pick an animal out of a herd and run after it. As long as we didn't overexert ourselves we could just... run until it died."

The three Sefigans looked at each other as they jogged. Greg wasn't breathing heavily as they went towards the canal, but all three of them were nearly at their limit and would need a long time to rest when they were safe.

"Human Greg, you scare us." The tallest Sefigan looked back at the holding compound and then back at Greg. "But, not as much as we were scared of what the Gren would have done to us."

Greg smiled showing his wide, large, white teeth. "In this world, sometimes you need to be scary." He looked at the canal. "Come on, the water isn't too cold, let's get in and swim towards that barge. It's not too far."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #humans and aliens #writing #sci fi writing #scifi writing

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 1 - Wishful Thinking

“AND THAT IS A CHAMPIONSHIP WIN FOR Y/N L/N! THIS MAKES IT THREE BACK TO BACK RACE WINS FOR THE DAMS’ RACER” 

The roar of the crowd is almost deafening. Well, it would be if you could actually hear it. 

“Good job, well done on another season. We couldn't be more proud,” your strategist Stella tells you over the radio. You can only sigh as you raise your hand to wave at the crowds. You don’t even know if they can see, but you try your best. 

You finally reply, “Good work team.” The switch to the radio is flipped back off, you don’t really want to hear anything else. You and your car finally arrive to Parc Ferme and stop right in front of the number 1 sign. It’s a familiar sight to behold. A second home if you will, since most of the season had been dominated by you. 

The steering wheel is turned off and undone and you gently place it down below. Reaching for the hallo, you pull yourself up with a grunt. Standing on the nose, you quickly turn around and raise your fists, earning you multiple cheers and screams. 

Instead of a usual jump, you quickly clamor down and walk to your team. You reach their open arms and are met with the multitudes of pats and hits to your helmet. Your eyes never settle on two specific people that you try to look for. Oh well, they didn’t have to come anyway. It wasn't like you were making history. However, Stella is right in the middle and you give her a giant hug. 

A second sigh is released, but a good one this time. It was more of a relief to be in the arms of one of your closest friends. 

A pat on the shoulder brings you out of your reverie. Turning around, you are met with the helmet of your teammate. 

“Arthur!” you yell and open your arms. It was a P1 – P2 finish for your team for the fourth time this year, the first where Arthur was on the top pedestal. This race not only decided your first championship, but his third second place since becoming your teammate. 

He quickly returned the hug and led you over to the weigh-in stations. After the number had been jotted down by an unknown official, you are finally allowed to take your helmet and balaclava off. Your baby hairs stick to your forehead, but you know your hair is going to get messed up by the champagne in just a few minutes.

“Think I will have a turn next year, non?” Arthur asks with a cheeky smirk, his accent emerging on the last few words. 

"Well, you will have all the chances,” you respond, setting your helmet down on podium. You both make your way to the cool down room and sit in your respective 1 and 2 chairs. 

“And welcome back to the y/n podcast,” Arthur jokes and you take a giant swig of your bottled water. 

“Ah Bearman is late today,” you say, “I guess he got tired of being number 2 guest.” You grin as Ollie walks in a few minutes later. 

“Already started without me?” he asks, watching your impressive overtake in turn 2, which in the end, helped you reach the finish line in a comfortable P1 finish. 

You just shrugged, “You were late.” 

Your eyes were glued to the screen. An impact between Ollie’s teammate Frederik Vesti and Theo Pourchaire had red flagged the race about halfway through. You possibly could have won by 30 seconds, if you had been able to continue and not have a second standing start. 

But oh well, you won anyway. 

A steward came to get you three a couple of moments later. 

She shook her head with a smile, “Why is it always you three?” 

The three of you looked at each other, shrugging. 

It just so happened that the only female, the one who was dominated the F2 world, her teammate, and his best friend almost always found themselves on the three podiums. Most of the time it was her, and others, her teammate, and then the rare sighting of the bear. 

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Well, that was a lie. 

But for now, you wouldn’t want it any other way. Just the three of you. 

Ollie went first, followed by Arthur. 

Then it was your turn to take the middle and highest podium. Taking the trophy from the man, you raised it above your head, fist clenched above. It was truly a sight to behold. Your head was held high as your national anthem blared through the sound speaker, and then the French anthem played for the team. 

Right when the anthem finished, the familiar tune of “Les Toreadors Carmen” began. You quickly picked up your bottle of champagne. Slightly shaking the bottle, you quickly pointed it towards the two boys, who had already started spraying theirs at you. 

Trying to get away, you accidently kicked your trophy off the top step. With wide eyes, you watched at the top popped off, leaving the base and the actual trophy apart. You quickly looked up and saw both the boys pointing and laughing. You stood in amazement and looked around as if to see if anyone had seen it. Who were you kidding though, of course people had seen it and cameras as well. Oops. At least it was your trophy. 

Your hair soon became sticky with the sparkling liquid, your race suit becoming a darker color as it was saturated. You wiped your eyes and you brought the over-sized bottle to your lips. Looking straight into the go-pro, you took a swig and crossed your eyes. 

The F2 page would definitely use that footage later. 

After the celebrations were over, you quickly made your way towards the journalists that were waiting outside of your garage. 

They all shouted your name, wanting to get a quote for whatever paper or website they were writing for. You quickly walked up and grabbed one of the microphones. 

A familiar blond woman spoke up first, “Wow, what an amazing accomplishment you’ve done today. How are you feeling?” 

There was the overused question. 

You took a deep breath before replying, “Ah it was a good run. Not everyone gets an opportunity to do this so I am very happy.” Your smile, however, never really reaches your eyes. 

A man with glasses speaks up next, “I know you must be ready for the break after this history breaking win. Do you have any plans for the upcoming winter vacation?” 

“Well, you know. Just be at home and enjoy it,” you paused before smirking, “And get some more hours in on the sim. Just doing what I normally do when I’m home.” You shrug after you finish. 

They reporters jot down things on their pads of paper. You think that you can finally go back to the comfort of your driver’s room when one more man speaks up. This time with a weird colored tie. 

“Regarding the recent hiring of Bianca Bustamante at McLaren for their Driver Development Program, how are you feeling knowing that a woman, not even in F2, now has a chance to drive an F1 car before you do?” 

Now that question gets you and you pause. 

What? 

You stutter out, “I’m sorry?” 

The man takes a deep breath. “Well I know that you recently projected that you’d be interested in an Formula 1 team as big as McLaren and hoped that you’d be able to get one foot in the door. I mean, you’ve been in F2 for three years now, and you aren’t even a reserve driver?” The man pressed his recorder closer to you. 

Suddenly, the outside felt like it was closing in. Taking a deep breath, you try to answer to the best of your ability. 

“Well, number one, I wasn’t aware that Bianca had been signed, but good for her. There always needs to be more openings for women in motor sports and I’m glad that she got in. Am I disappointed? Sure, but that’s life. My turn will come soon.” 

The man nodded and looked away. 

Seeing as no one spoke up after your statement, you said a quick thank you before handing the microphone to someone else. 

Finally you could retreat back to your room and finally change. 

The minute the door close, you leaned back against it and slid to the floor. Reaching for your phone, you quickly open the Instagram app. Orange upon orange is the first thing you see. 

Headlines of “BUSTAMANTE SIGNS WITH MCLAREN FOR DRIVER DEVELOPMENT” were all you could see. 

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Of course they would go with her. Much more pretty, definitely meets the CEO’s look of younger drivers, would look gorgeous in papaya. 

All the things you believed yourself not to be. 

You knew it was a long stretch sending an email wanting to discuss future plans with the papaya team. They already had all the reserve drivers they needed, and apparently the development drivers too. 

It seemed like every door for every team was closed at the moment.

Hauling yourself off the floor, you peeled your racing suit off, leaving the champagne soaked material to hang at your hips. 

Walking over to the small desk in the corner, you grabbed your headphones. Connecting them to your phone, the familiar voice of Noah Kahan filled the void. 

You were there for a little more than an hour before someone came looking for you. Not surprised, you let Arthur into your own little paradise. Someplace where the reporters and cameras could not get to you. 

He sat down on your bed while you sat down on the floor. 

He inhaled sharply before speaking. 

“I saw the interview.” 

Your head bowed in defeat. “Yeah.” 

“You know, it’s not true what they’re saying. You deserve a seat and you know this.” 

You nodded. “Well, they don’t seem to think so. What is it going to take Thur? I've already exhausted my options. There's nothing here for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be promoted. I’m not…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

Arthur quickly shakes his head before sliding down to join you on the floor. He places both hands on either side of you head and maneuvers you to look at him. 

“Listen to me,” he tells you, accent a little heavier, “you are one of the best drivers of our age. You cannot go bashing yourself when a reporter thinks it good to get a rouse out of you.” 

“Well, I’m no Max Verstappen…or your brother.” 

“And you don’t have to be. All you need to do is be Y/n L/n.” 

He smiled. You only nodded again, soaking in his words. 

After a small bit of silence, you spoke up in a wishful voice, “If you were to sign with any F1 team, which one would it be?” 

He thought for a moment, “I think the answer for me better be Ferrari, to be with my brother. But with their shit season so far, I don’t think I’d want to drive that tractor.” 

You wheezed and held him tight as the giggles shook your body. Arthur could help but join in. After you both calmed down, your breaths were only heard. 

“What about you?” he turns his head, wishful asking. 

“With my luck, I’d also have to drive a tractor,” you cracked a smile. 

“Then we’d be driving tractors together. But I’m serious, which one?” 

You hummed, before silencing. Thoughts scrambling to come up with an answer. Sure, you had dreams. Dreams of papaya, green, teal and black, white and navy, burgundy. But never red as Arthur wishes. 

You finally answer, “I’d take the Bull. Drive a little illegal rocket ship.” 

Arthur huffed. “Are we destined to be rivals Miss L/n? I don’t think the racing world could handle another Leclerc-Verstappen rivalry.” 

“Oh be quiet. I’m not on his level. And besides, if something were to happen, it would be nothing but an inchident…on the race.” 

Now it was Arthur’s turn to sputter and laugh. You decided to disconnect your headphones and let the music fill the small room. 

Placing your head on Arthur’s shoulder, you both let out sighs. 

Wishful thinking, that’s all it was.  

#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #ollie bearman x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #f1 x driver!reader #platonic grid x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sergeant x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #alex albon x reader

[inkyray]

INKED

MATT STURNIOLO

a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism

3.6k words

warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️

๑

You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.

Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.

It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.

The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.

A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.

"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.

"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."

You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."

With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.

The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.

Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.

"Oh, shit."  Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.

You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.

"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.

"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."

It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.

He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.

You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.

-

It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.

On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.

Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.

You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…

His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.

Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.

Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.

"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.

The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.

Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.

The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.

He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.

They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.

You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.

Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.

You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.

You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.

You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.

"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.

"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.

You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.

"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.

You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.

Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.

Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.

He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.

You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.

The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.

Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.

"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.

Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.

He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp.  "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.

"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.

"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.

Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.

You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."

His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.

He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.

You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.

"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.

You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"

"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."

-

(idk how a tags list works)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #nicolas antonio sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo #fanfiction #matt sturniolo fanfic #oneshot #smut #idk

[a-hazbin-reader]

https://www.tumblr.com/a-hazbin-reader/743280500155809792/hey-loooove-your-x-readers-is-there-any-chance

Part two? Where the nightmares have been happening so consistently for so long at this point that Alastor literally sits on readers bed with her each night and reads and comforts her? Until one night she’s having a different type of dream 😏 about him. And what type of gentleman would he be to not make a girls dreams come true? 😉 if you catch my drift.

It's been so long now so let me just-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Filthy, Straight up S E X

Description: ☝️⬆️

Somehow, you and Alastor have fallen into a nightly routine that neither of you openly discuss, but both of you understand

Alastor waits for you to go to bed, standing outside your door and following you in without even so much as a teasing look

He just sits on the edge of your bed and makes himself busy while you get ready, being mindful not to peek at you

Except he totally does, he's just good at hiding it

Makes a big show of tucking you in like a child, patting your head and pulling the blankets up to your chin

"Would you like a bedtime story along with all this coddling?"

You give him a dirty look and kick at him slightly with your feet, too tired to even feel embarrassed

"You could always leave."

He hums and examines his claws, his ears twitching as he pretends to think it over

"And let you fend off your nightmares by yourself? What sort of a gentleman would I be then? No, thank you~"

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"Shut up and go to sleep already~"

Lately though, your dreams have been a nightmare of a whole different kind...less horrific and emotional and more...romantic?

Holding hands, soft kisses, warm embraces and candlelit dates, just all the works

Something that disturbs you a little bit more than the nightmares to be honest

There's been a couple of nights lately where Alastor consistently haunts your dreams, and it's becoming an embarrassing problem for you

You spend a few days wondering if Alastor is somehow twisting your dreams, but you don't notice a difference in him

And you doubt he would actually bother doing something like that anyways 🙄

You could only hope that Alastor doesn't figure out what's going on in your dreams, you couldn't live with the humiliation

You should've known it was only a matter of time before your dreams gave you away to him

Alastor was seated next to your sleeping form on the bed, reading to pass the time when you suddenly started making noise

It wasn't the first time this happened, setting down his book, he turned to face you, reaching out to stroke your cheek softly

"Hush now...it's only a dream.."

Usually, that would work, and you'd relax again, his voice chasing away the nightmares

Except this time it seemed to make things worse, your whole body shuddering and legs rubbing together

You instinctively nuzzled against his hand in your sleep and actually moaned his name, something that caught him off guard

"Nn...Alastor..."

But that suddenly made him all the more interested in just what you were dreaming about

It was a particularly good dream though

Alastor is laying under you, face flushed and soft pants of pleasure leaving his mouth as one hand grips your side, thrusting up into you slowly, savoring the feeling

You both moan as you roll your hips again, the slow pace driving you both crazy but neither wanting to break the moment

He leans up to lock you in a bruising kiss, sharp teeth drawing blood that a quick tongue laps up eagerly before diving in to taste more of you

One clawed hand slides up your nightgown, cupping your breast and playing with the nipple there while the other digs into you hip

You grind down harder on his cock instinctively, a strangled moan escaping you as you arch into his touch, tugging at his hair when his mouth finds your other breast

"Alastor-"

"Y/N?"

Your eyes snap open to find Alastor leaning over you, his expression smug and knowing as he tilts his head

"Another nightmare? Or just a particularly good dream~?"

There's a damp heat heat between your legs and you can't help but press them together tightly, blushing furiously

"Nothing that would interest you, I'm sure..."

You try to turn away from him to save your dignity, still horny beyond belief from your dream

You hear him chuckle behind you, feel his breath on your ear as he suddenly presses close to you, running a claw down your side

"Don't lie to me, darling~ I can smell how much you want me~"

A tingle runs down your spine and you have to bite your lip when you feel Alastor nose his face into your neck and bite the flesh playfully

"Nn...who said I was dreaming of you~?"

You feel him stiffen against you, feel more heat pool between your legs at the sound of his low growl

"Then I'll make you dream of me."

That's the only warning you get before he's putting you on your back, your legs suddenly up in the air as he pushes between them

Oh fuck

You wake up feeling sore all over, a heavy arm slung over your side and you don't need to look back to know Alastor is still there

You throw his arm off of you and stumble out of bed, a slight wobble in your walk that has you blushing

Looking in the mirror, you find you're covered in bite marks that will be impossible to cover, your hips and thighs have hand shaped bruises on them

One of your fucking tits has a bite mark on it what the fu-

"You ready to admit you were dreaming of me last night?"

The sound of Alastor behind you makes you jump, giving him a glare that only makes him grin wider

You instinctively cover your private areas even though he's already seen it all now-and that he's just as naked as you are

You're trying not to look-

"Never."

He leans against the door and admires his work on you, lazily looking your body up and down

"Ah~ Well, I suppose there's always tonight~"

The realization that he plans to make this a normal thing makes your body heat up again, blushing and looking away

"You could try again right now if you think you have a shot..."

"The shower is right here~"

HERE TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[bbrissonn]

𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐚

in which after going live with rutger on the umich insta account, your boyfriend comes home with new nickname

warnings: slight mention of sex at the end, not proofread

pairing: mark estapa x reader

your eyes slowly opened as a bunch of guys could be hear entering the house. you had fallen asleep shortly after mark left, leaving a little later than the others since he wasn't practicing. you knew they were having their turkey showdown today, so the boys who lived in the house would be extra agitated when they got back.

"dude, im being honest, gavo had the best technic to level the ice." you heard your boyfriend's voice as the group appeared in the doorway of the living room. "hi, babe." the boy added with a smile when his eyes landed on your frame. you yawned strongly, blinking multiple times as you pushed yourself up from your laying position before sending them a wave.

"how was your turkey thing?" you mumbled as all the boys, including some who didn't live here, settled down on the multiple couches. mark sat next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, making you lean your head against his shoulder.

"you weren't on the live?" rutger asked, a frown on his face.

"do i look like i was on the live, rutger." you sassed, hinting at your appearance, and the fact that you had just woken up. your answer made a couple of the guys chuckle, including mark.

"you look like you got ran over." the nebraska native answered with a smirk, and soon a pillow flew his way.

"you look cute, baby." mark mumbled in your ear so only you could hear. you looked up at him, a shy smile on your face.

"papa estapa had a lot of fun." frank said from besides rutger, making all of the guys laugh once again. meanwhile, a look of confusion grew on your face as mark's face turned a bright shade of red.

"papa who now?"

"papa estapa." he repeated, only making all of them laugh even more.

"uhm... do i even wanna know?" you questioned, smiling awkwardly while mark avoided eye contact.

"you'd know if you were on the live."

"rutger, don't make me hit you." you warned him, already tired of the way he was acting.

"someone on the live commented that." mark answered your question, only making all of them laugh even harder.

"lots of girls like your papa estapa, y/n/n." rutger joked, and this time mark was able to stop you before throwing another pillow his way.

"you don't even live here!"

"papa estapa invited me." the blond boy said. he knew he was pushing your buttons, and that mark would give him hell for it the next, but he didn't care. he found the whole situation funny, especially since he was the one who found the comment, and your reaction was making it even better.

"whatever, im going to the bathroom." you mumbled harshly before standing up from your spot and exiting the living room. all of the boy's laughter died down when they saw the look on mark's face, who was staring straight into rutger's soul.

"didn't invite you over so you could be an asshole to my girlfriend, mcgroarty." mark said, his tone firm and strict. it wasn't until then that rutger realized how badly he has messed up. before he had the chance to say anything, mark was following in your footsteps.

when he made it up the stairs, he was the bathroom door wide open, while his was completely closed. he slowly approached it, knocking softly on it.

"baby, it's just me. can i come in?" the boy asked. when he heard you slur out a yes, he quietly entered the bedroom. you were laying in the middle of his bed, blankets thrown over your body so only your head was pecking out. "im sorry 'bout rut."

"don't be. i should've have lost my cool like that. they're all gonna think im a bitch now." you whispered as mark joined you under the warmth of the blankets. your head landed on his chest quickly as his arms wrapped around you, keeping you close.

"you're always a little grumpy when you wake up, especially if you get woken up. rutger knows that, he did it to himself." the room was silent after that, marks eyes slowly starting to close, while yours remained wide open.

"did someone actually call you papa estapa?" you asked, trying your best to hide your giggle. your question made mark's eyes fly open, chuckling lightly when he realized you were smiling against his chest.

"yeah."

"does she know you have a girlfriend?"

"baby, my insta account is pretty much a fan page of you at this point. im sure she knows."

"good. 'cause you're my papa estapa." you answered, pushing yourself off his chest and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

"is that so?" your boyfriend asked with a cocky smirk when the two of you pulled away.

"not in that way, weirdo."

"but i could be."

"im not calling you papa estapa while we're having sex, mark!"

#bri writes #mark estapa #mark estapa blurb #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa x reader #umich hockey #umich hockey blurb #umich hockey imagine

[tacticaldiary]

Frightened Of The Fall

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"Simon." He rasps, grip tightening around her arms. "Call me Simon."

Her smile widens and it makes something in him break with a need to let her light smooth over his jagged, broken pieces.

"I love you, Simon."

Masterlist

Baby birds are born with an innate fear of falling. Frightening little things, skittering over to the edges of their nests and peering down, curious but never brave enough to take a leap. It's their mothers that nudge them along, shove them over the edge knowing that they'll come out unscathed.

Simon remembers the soft look on his mother's face when she used to read to him at night, locking the door and draping his bedsheets over their heads like a little makeshift tent.

It's one of the clearer memories in his head, but nothing in his life comes completely untainted.

His father always got tired of yelling and banging on his door. He'd find the master key somewhere and click the lock back open, ending her attempts to distract him on the worst days.

His father had shoved him off the edge too soon, not accustomed to a mother's intuition and only driven by the cruel need to see him flail and fall as he hit the ground hard.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"Does pasta sound okay?"

Ghost hums into his cup of coffee, skimming over a document he'd put off till the last minute to review. Their kitchen table is littered with files and folders belonging to them both. "Thought you were going out tonight.?"

Working in the same division of the military means their privy to the same confidential information, luckily.

"I was," She nods, setting down the packet of pasta. "But I cancelled. Thought some time alone with you would be better..."

He nods, and the knot of unease that's been tightening in her chest for the past week makes an appearance again. He doesn't say anything, he hasn't been saying much at all these days, and it's making her more than uneasy.

Ghost wasn't an overly silent man, especially not with her, so this behaviour has been out of character enough to raise some flags. A little frustrated at his lack of interest, she walks across the kitchen to join him at the table.

"Is something wrong?"

Sometimes, Ghost sees the gentle nature of his mother in her.

When she smiles at him like he's hung the moon and the stars for doing her a simple favour. The quiet nights together spent soaking in company that he hasn't had the chance to experience in years...

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're angry at me."

He glances up at her, raising an eyebrow. "You'd know if I was mad at you, love."

"Then what is it?" She pushes, "You've been so...so disinterested lately." She really tries to word it eloquently in a way that's not too intense. "You don't join me for any activity apart from work, you barely say a word to me if I don't initiate a conversation!"

She's certainly got his attention now.

"You didn't even ask where I was going when I told you I had plans tonight, it's like...it's like you don't care anymore." She finishes, pushing out the last part of her sentence in a voice wrapped with hurt. "If you don't...don't want me, I'd rather you just say it. I'll understand, but it's not fair to keep me at arm's length when-"

"Stop." He cuts her off loudly. "You think I don't want you anymore?" The papers lay on the table, completely forgotten as he pushes himself to stand up next to her. There's an urgency in his movements that she hasn't seen before.

"You sure make it seem that way."

"I don't." His gaze flickers across her face and his stomach sinks when he sees nothing but raw honesty and hurt. "Of course I want you-"

"Then why don't you talk to me?"

That shuts him up.

"I was thinking." He clenches and unclenches his jaw. "About everything. About...us." When he sees devastation flash across her face, he's quick to correct her misunderstanding. "Fucking hell, not like that." He assures her, taking her arms in his hands and stepping closer. "Never like that, darling. Shouldn't have made you doubt anything, didn't mean to." Ghost presses her face to the crook of his neck, loosening a sigh of relief when she doesn't push him away and nestles there instead.

"Then what is it?" She draws in a shaky breath. "If it's not me, why are you pulling away?"

It's a beat before he answers.

"I've always wanted a family." He squeezes her arms briefly. "Never thought I'd have anyone else to call that." His gaze is fixed firmly on the wall behind them, even when she tilts her head up to peer at him.

She doesn't push him, doesn't beg for details. Patient as always, and the knowledge that she would not force him to tell her anything he couldn't is the very thing that drives him to bear his thoughts to her.

Ghost tells her about coming home to a house of cold bodies. He doesn't spare any details, she's not frail or fragile. Hell, she's drawn just as much blood, just as viciously as he had, so he lays it all out as it happened. He tells her about his mother, about the good in his life ripped away by a fate that he dragged across their doormat.

"You're afraid it'll happen again." She whispers when he finishes.

"I'm...cautious."

"It's okay to be afraid." She smooths a hand over his hair much more gently than a man like him deserves. "You're human, Ghost. You're alive, they would be glad that you made it out alive."

"Shit luck I brought them, though." A hoarse voice he lets mingle with the loathing he's carried ever since he could remember.

"It won't happen again." His gaze flickers down to her at the declaration, "It's in the past, baby. Unless you let me go, I'm not going anyway."

"I don't." He tightens his grip instinctively. The very idea of being the reason he's lost the best thing that's ever happened to him is revolting. He intends to keep her for as long as she'll have him.

"Good." She cracks a small smile. Her fingers ghost over the scars on his cheek, marred with years of memories. "Neither of us are good people." She whispers. "Not with the things we've done, the things we've seen. But we're good for each other. You're so good to me and nothing in your past is going to take that away. Not even you."

Earnest and honest and determined, there's no protest Ghost can make that would strike her words untrue. He takes in an unsteady breath instead, letting himself sink into her promises.

"Let me in." She whispers, soft and pleading. "Build a life with me. Let me take care of you, Ghost."

He loosens a shuddering sigh out of his chest, a feeling so viscerally overwhelming washing him inside and out. It grows and expands, sheds lights on the corners of him untouched by love and safety.

Always shrouded in caution and fear, the sudden light is bound to sting the eyes of someone who's kept in the dark. The warmth is enough to burn someone kept in the cold.

She searches his eyes for something, for anything. A hint of agreement, a crack in the iron walls she can take as a sign to start chipping at.

"I love you."

And he believes it.

"Simon." He rasps, grip tightening around her arms. "Call me Simon."

Her smile widens and it makes something in him break with a need to let her light smooth over his jagged, broken pieces.

"I love you, Simon."

And she can see the light shining through.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(28/11/2023)

#ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst #x reader #x y/n #fluff #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii

[dcxdpdabbles]

thought: what if jason had the ability to see ghosts but only when tired. so he ends up thinking he’s hallucinating and doesn’t tell anyone because thats tims thing

There is a little girl singing nursery rhythms and spinning in small circles. Now usually, Jason wouldn't find that too out of place. Kids always found the strangest things entertaining.

No, what was strange was that the little girl was floating just above the rails of the stairway. She looks like a poorly edited clip slapped onto the backdrop of the gala he has been dragged to.

She's wearing a red dress and a large bow in her hair that seems to have been stolen from Alice on her way to Wonderland. Her skin had a greenish hue, and a slight glow was coming off her, reminding Jason of a miniature night light.

"Huh," He mumbles, taking another sip of the water he picked up. Bruce is the one who pretends to get sloppy drunk at all the parties, while in comparison, Jason has gained a reputation for never touching alcohol. It says a lot about how powerful the Waynes are if his presence ensures the hosts have other refreshments ready for him.

This means that the little girl is not a drunken hallucination. Maybe he's more tired than he thought.

"What is it?" Tim asks to his side. His disgusting CEO smile is still firmly in place, a twist of the lips that belie the hidden tension. Tim would appear relaxed and enjoying the party like any other elite if anyone glanced in their direction. "Trouble?"

The little girl is sticking her tongue out at some teenagers heading her way. She's not doing anything but making faces at random guests that walk by. "I don't think so."

"What is it then?"

Jason had a choice here. He could mention the little girl, but that would mean admitting he could see her. Based on the way, literally, no one is reacting; he's the only one that can.

She's likely another hallucination.

Jason has been getting those since he was young, usually due to a lack of sleep. Just last week, he saw a butcher wandering the streets of Gotham, wearing the highest heels he had ever seen. That had been after the five-day mission with the OutLaws, where he thinks he only had a chance to sleep maybe three times.

He should go home before the little girl starts doing something weird.

Not that he would ever let the rest of the family know, especially Tim. Seeing things that aren't there is Tim's thing, and Jason has teased him too often over the years about it to start admitting he's got the condition too.

He nods his head at the teenagers. Tim turns his body slightly, allowing his gaze to take in what he's looking at without making it obvious he's staring. Apparently, he can't make it known he's interested in someone. Ugh, another rule of high society that Jason will never bother to understand. "I've never seen them before."

He means the two accompany Samatha Manson. He's aware of the inventor's granddaughter, seeing as her family had ties with the Waynes, distant as they may be. It was Waynes who bought the rights to her grandfather's inventions many years ago, and his son was the one that started investing in some smaller shell companies of Waynes, further building the family fortune.

Jason didn't see her often at galas because while the Mansons were wealthy, they were new money. They had no connections, mannerisms, or mindset to be welcomed by the elites.

"Daniel Fenton and Tucker Foley. Foley is in the brown suit, Fenton is the one in the black one." Tim identifies quickly. He probably went over the gala invitation guest list to memorize everyone attending even though it wasn't a gala they were hosting. "Her best friends. Nothing that stands out too much about them except for Fenton. His parents are independent ghost hunters and researchers."

Jason blinks down at this brother. "Ghost hunters?"

Both brothers know how real ghosts can be in their line of work, seeing as Deadman has helped them with some cases before. Still, it's surprising to find civilians who are that close to the undead.

"More Ghostbusters than actual hunters." Tim shrugs when he gets a confused frown. "I looked into them to make sure Fenton over there wouldn't be a danger once in Gotham. His parents' inventions are marketed as ghost-hunting equipment but are authentic weapons. He's been known to show signs of rouge potential behavior."

Jason looks back at the black hair boy who is......talking to the little girl? Or trying to? She is spinning again, floating up to the chandelier, not caring for the teenage boy leaning over the railing towards her as Foley and Manson stand guard. If they trying to be inconspicuous, they are doing a poor job.

Jason spots Damian approaching the trio with a tense set of his shoulders. His youngest brother taps his finger against the glass in his hand in a specific rhythm.

If any of the Bats have seen Damian- which is all of them, given that everyone in the family always keeps an eye on Damian at galas- they have all been told the same message.

Possible jumper.

Granted, without the little girl, it looks like Fenton wants to take a leap over the railing. That's worrying.

Tim proves this by tilting his chin slightly in their direction, shoulders also tense. "Let's go."

Jason follows after Tim, trying his best to not make it obvious they are freaking out about a possible tragedy about to happen. Damian, thankfully, has already reached the teenagers but is stalled by Manson.

He can't hear what she's saying, but she's matching Damian's angry scowl with her own. Seeing the only two goth kids standing off with each other is hilarious.

Damian had told Bruce a few months back that he wanted to try and change his civilian persona a bit and had taken their dad's credit card with Raven to do shopping.

He's come back as a goth, giving Bruce a near heart attack, as Damian changed out all his suits to have a scull somewhere on his person at all times. Jason thought it was the best cover plan the brat could have ever done.

Mason's right eye twitches when she sees them, but other than glaring harshly, she doesn't say anything as they come up to stand behind Damian. Tim is in the perfect place to sludge for Fenton should the boy throw himself over. Jason is to tackle the two teenagers should they try to stop his brother.

"Dude, it's okay. Danny always does that," Foley assures as they finally climb up to them. "He's really into, ugh, parkour."

"It's dangerous," Damian particularly bites. Looks like someone needs more sensitive training.

Fenton stops trying to lean over the rail to glance over his shoulder to Damian. "I'm okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though."

Jason is standing in the prime location to see Damian's haughty expression melt away into startled wonder. He watches a tiny bit of red appear on the cheekbones of his youngest brother, and for a moment, all Jason can think is how much he will have fun teasing the boy later.

Gosh, if he wasn't so tired he would realize he wasn't the only one who noticed.

"He's red like a tomato!" A feminine voice chirps, and he can't help but laugh at the comment. Damian's face is slowly turning redder by the curious head tilt Fenton does in his direction. Cute.

"You got that right, kiddo, so red he's ripe for the picking. " Jason smirks down at his brother, who, for his part, dares to look confused.

"What are you babbling about?" Damian snaps as Tim's intense eyes swing over the boy's head to lock gazes with Jason.

"What the girl said"

"I didn't say anything," Manson denies, and Jason finally realizes he has responded to the little girl, who is grinning ear from ear. Shit.

"Oh." Fenton nods, stepping down the railing to look Jason dead in the eye and smile. "You see dead people."

"Cool, one of us. One of us." Foley chants with a grin, and even Mason seems to relax more, going from irritated to indifferent. The teenager stops his chat when the three brothers fail to find humor.

Danny just smiles near-vacantly, which causes Damian to look hot under the collar.

Maybe Jason should leave to take a nap in the safety of his room because he does not have the time to unpack all of this.

"Maybe we should find Bruce," Tim says after a moment, and that is when the little girl choices to fly right up to Tim and flick his ear. Tim startles so hard he slams into Damian, who loses his footing and falls over. Jason is fast enough to catch him before he rolls down the stairs.

Danny giggles, and for the first time since he's known Damian, he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him hole. What a weird night for Jason.

"What the hell was that?" Tim mumbles, looking around.

Manson grins a sharp, wicked thing. "A ghost"

"Of course it is." Tim sighs then he gives Jason a near-eye glare. "How long have you been able to see ghosts?"

"Honestly? Probably since I was six. I thought they were hallucinations."

"And why did you not tell anyone about having what you thought were lifelong hallucinations?"

"I'm not you. Hallucinations are your weird thing. Mine are guns."

"I like them," Fenton announces, and the other two finally step back. Only then does he come to the startling observation that Manson and Feley had been acting like bodyguards by placing themselves between Fenton and the Waynes?

What a strange night indeed.

"Todd, let me up!"

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #pre-Dead Serious #Jason sees dead people #But doesn't tell anyone cause he's pity #Danny and co are just trying to tell the little ghost girl to move

[thebearer]

Hoohoohoo look at all these requests I’m behind on that I get to binge 🤭

I have one of my own tho, if you want! I just neeed Dad!Carmy and mom reader like so bad I just need some domestic fluffiness with him. I feel like he would such a cute protective dad especially with a daughter. Like imagine if she was picky and he made all her fav foods from scratch for her in cute little shapes. Stop.🥹

omg ahhh!!! a picky little baby bear i'll sob rn!!!

"Look! Look at what Daddy made you, Teddy." You cooed, bouncing the two year old on your hip, her curls tickling your chin. Carmen turned the pan towards her, far enough she couldn't touch but close so she could see the tiny heart shaped pancake in the pan.

"Mmm, doesn't that look so yummy?" Your tone lilted, exaggerated but soft, hoping it might sway the stubborn two year old.

Carmen's eyes rounded, hopeful that she might be impressed- would finally be impressed. Instead, Teddy just blinked, looking from you back to Carmen. "No."

Carmen's shoulder's deflated, letting the pan rest back over the flame. Teddy turned two only a month ago, and since then, she'd entered a new realm, passing the "terrible twos" and going into something much worse. You blamed Carmen, she had inherited his stubbornness and this was his own form of karma, because no matter what he did, the answer was the same- no.

"You're being silly." You tsked lightly, shaking your head at her. "You love pancakes."

"No." Teddy shook her head, curling further into your chest.

"Then what do you want, baby?" Carmen's tone was tired, and holy shit was he. "Do you want cereal?"

"No."

"Do you want eggs?" You tried.

"No."

"Do you want donuts?" Carmen tried again, ignoring your glare over her head. He was desperate, desperate for any other answer other than no.

"No." Teddy whined, wiggling in your arms to get down.

You set her carefully on the ground, letting her walk towards the cabinets, pulling on the child proofed locks. Carmen looked at you, tired, defeated, a little hurt. "I don't know what she wants." He admitted.

You shrugged gently, running a hand down the soft cotton of his shirt. "She'll eat it. I think she just likes saying no because you give her a reaction." You hummed, giving him a very pointed look.

Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Yeah? Who's she get that from, hm?" He hummed, arms snaking around your waist to pull him back into you. "Sounds like she gets it from you."

You giggled, pushing his hands off your sides. "More like she gets it from you." You pushed a finger into his chest. "This trait screams Berzatto, and you know it."

Carmen rolled his eyes, looking at Teddy on the floor, yanking furiously on the cabinets. "Hey, cut that out." Carmen said, firm with a little frown that had her stopping, rounded eyes meeting his. "That's not for you, Dorothea, stop."

The use of her full name, not the beloved "Teddy" nickname had her bottom lip quivering, your breath hitching knowing tears were coming. A loud wail filled the kitchen, Carmen's heart sinking when Teddy ran into your legs, hiding her face in the soft fabric of your pajama pants.

"Mama!" You picked her up, cradling her against your chest. Carmen looked sick, wracked with guilt. You snorted lightly, shaking your head. Teddy's crocodile tears won him over every time, had him bending to her every whim which you were sure is why she did it.

"She's fine," You hum, running a hand down her curls. She wasn't even fully committed to this "breakdown" already quieting down her sobs, clearly distracted with something over your shoulder.

"Teddy," Carmen's hand was on her back, nearly covering her whole little spine. It made you want to melt. She looked at him, bottom lip jutted and sniffling in a way that looked so much like you. No wonder Carmen didn't stand a chance ever staying mad at her.

"What do you want, Teddy Bear? You have to eat. What do you want Daddy to make you?" Carmen's voice was calm, gentler now and a near coo. You were sure at her nap time you were going to try and convince him for a sibling for Teddy, or at least try and practice.

Teddy whined, pointing at the cabinet she'd been pulling on earlier. Carmen's brows furrowed curiously before opening it, sighing heavily. "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me-"

"-Carmen." You hissed, eyes cutting to Teddy, who was not paying attention, thankfully.

"She wants goldfish again!" Carmen sighed, pulling out the orange box with the smiling cracker on it. Teddy perked, squirming in your arms to get down. "All she wants to eat is this!"

"Just let her have them. I'll cut the pancake too, maybe she'll eat that." You shrug, reaching for the cooling stack on the counter.

"This can not be healthy, baby. Maybe I should try and make them again? With some vegetables and-and I'll blend then better this time-"

"-Carmy, she spit those out last time." You bit back a laugh, remembering the disaster that was the homemade goldfish.

Carmen sighed, running a hand through his hair, setting the bowl of goldfish on the ground while you fixed her high chair. "I know." He sighed. "I just... I feel like she should be eating something healthier, ya know?"

"I think you're gonna have to give into her a little, Mr. Stubborn." You smirked, he was only proving your point now. "Give her the goldfish and the other. She won't even know she's eating it, promise." You hummed, tossing the pancakes on the tray and picking Teddy up to fasten her in.

"That doesn't seem right." Carmen frowned. "Tricking her into eating things."

"She's two, Carmen." You rolled your eyes lightly at him. "It's not like we're force feeding her. She likes it." You nod towards your baby, chubby little fingers grabbing the cut pancake, shoving it in her mouth. "If she didn't like it, we'd know. We didn't force her to eat the homemade goldfish. Now that would have been wrong." You smirked.

Carmen rolled his eyes. "Funny." He scoffed. "I just worry about her."

"I know you do." You hum, wrapping your arm around his torso. "You're a good dad like that."

"Yeah?" Carmen blushed, heart soaring under your praise. "You think I'm a good dad."

"You know I do." You shook your head lightly at him, letting your cheek rest against his chest.

"I think you're a good mom. The best mom." Carmen added, leaning down to peck your head.

You smiled, tilting your head back so he could kiss you, fully and sweet, lips slotting over yours, hand pressed into your spine to pull you closer. It wasn't nearly the sloppy make outs you used to have on Sunday mornings, sweeter now.

A sharp jab to your temple had you pulling away, hearing the soft clatter of something on the ground. You gaped, looking at the goldfish back at Teddy, who giggled wildly. "Dorothea, did you throw that?" You frowned, her laughter only growing louder.

Carmen bit back his own laugh, turning back to the stove, while you picked the food off the floor. "That," Carmen muttered. "Is definitely a you trait, baby."

#thebearer #thebearerblurbs #dad!carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season 2 #the bear #carmy smut #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x fem!reader

[ralvezfanatic]

Kiss me! Kiss me!! Kiss me again!!!

Spencer Reid x Tall Male!Reader

Garcia steps out to go buy food, leaving Reader and a tired, annoyed and definitely not pouty, Spencer alone for a moment. Unfortunately she forgot something causing her to go back and walk in on the two lovers kissing.

Warnings: Kissing. Being caught. Not really proofread. That's all I can think of, lmk if I missed anything. Reader is taller than Spencer. Whiny Spencer. Sorta OOC

Title stolen off of Kiss Me <3 bc i love Vampyx !!

Word count: 1.2k

"Go on Garcia! It's like..." You check the clock quickly, thinking a second trying to remember the time zones before speaking again.

"...4am in New York!" You finished, wanting Garcia to leave without too much worry.

"3am. It's 3am in New York, the team hasn't called us in a while, and we'll be fine if they do. I'm here! With this genius, we'll be alright for a few hours."

"3am." Spencer mumbled out to correct you.

Garcia looked at you, a smile on her face appreciating your kindness. She stood up, nodding as she finally gave in.

"Okay! You're totally right, lover boy, right right. I can leave for a little, get something to eat quickly." She continued nodding, collecting her things as she talked.

She was hesitant to leave, it was a stressful case, most leads ended up in a dead end. She knew you would be fine if the team needed something, but the stress didn't want to let her go out.

She stopped, wondering if she had everything. "Umm.. yes.. yes?" She listed things off. With a last "yes" she hummed and thanked you again.

"I'll be back soon. I'll bring something for you two, don't worry." She smiled, ruffling your hair.

"Thank you Pen!!" You waved at her, but she was already walking out, her heels clicking with each of her steps. Finally she walks out the door and closes it, leaving you and Spencer alone.

He had injured himself once more, and wasn't allowed on the field for a while so he was left with the tech analysts again. He didn't really mind, spending time with his best friend and boyfriend was not something to be complaining about. He spun a bit in his chair, looking down at the floor, wishing he could go home and sleep. He was tired, uncomfortable and slightly irritated from the case.

You turned to him, watching him move in his chair with a smile on your face finding his movements silly. Even though he was obviously annoyed, he still

"C'mere.." You called to him, rolling your chair closer to him before he even had the chance to move.

You stood up, pulling his arms to make him stand up with you. He looked up, not wanting to stand up but was only met with your pleading eyes.

He sighed and started to stand up slowly, using you as support. You smiled at his compliance, helping him so he doesn't put too much weight on his injury.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You looked down at him, your faces inches apart, a smile on your face.

"Did you make me stand just to stare at me? Or to remind yourself of the small height difference?" Spencer asked you, unamused with the fact he stood for seemingly no reason.

Honestly you didn't know why exactly you made him stand, his questioning made you chuckle though.

"No, of course not." You shook your head and leaned down in an attempt to kiss him.

He blushed and shook his head trying to pull away, or stop you.

"No! We're at work, in your shared little room. It's unprofessional!" He frowned, desperately wanting to give in and just kiss you, but not wanting to be break the rules at work.

"Nobody is going to walk in! It's like.. past 2am, the teams across the country and Garcia just left to buy food, we'll be fine." You insisted, knowing that you two would be safe to kiss.

"No, what if someone else walks in? What if someone comes looking for one of us! What if-".

You quickly cut him off with a kiss, which immediately shut him up. He was still worried, scared someone would walk in, but he didn't do much to pull away from your kissing. Actually, he melted into it quickly, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, both for comfort and support.

You hummed out feeling his arms wrap around you, happy he gave in. You had only meant for it to be a short kiss, but Spencer had let out a small whimper when you pulled away. Now, how could you even think about making your injured boyfriend sad.

You shook your head, a chuckle escaping at his pouty face.

"Thought you said it was unprofessional?" You raised your eyebrow at him, only to be met with furrowed eyebrows and a bigger pout.

"Y/N!" He whined, sounding like a child about to throw a tantrum. You rolled your eyes, leaning down to meet his lips again, but spoke before actually kissing him.

"Don't start stomping your foot now." You laughed before he crashed his mouth into yours, wanting to shut you up from your stupid comments.

He pulled you closer, trying to deepen the kiss which you quickly allowed, turning the supposedly sweet kiss into a small makeout session.

"Hey boy genius and boy genius lover!" Penelope's voice called out from outside, quickly opening the door before either of you could move.

"I forgot my-" She started, the door swinging open and immediately cut herself off seeing you two leaned against the desk.

Spencer quickly broke away from the kiss, but not daring to face her, his face completely red from embarrassment. You looked over at Penelope, cheeks flushed as you continued to hold Spencer by his waist.

"Oh! Am I interrupting, boy.. time..? Sorry sorry.. let me just quickly grab this and leave." She apologized quickly, shuffling in and leaning around the both of you to grab her forgotten item.

She backed up, patting Spencer on his shoulder before she walked out. "Didn't think you had it in you Spencer, making out at work!?"

"Derek is not going to believe this.." She giggled before closing the door and leaving.

Spencer cringed at her comment, knowing Derek was going to tease him about this nonstop for the next month (if not more).

He turned his head up, glaring at you as he spoke.

"See! I told you we'd get caught!" He huffed, pulling his arms off your shoulders and looked away from you.

"Well it's not like I was the only one participating in the kiss was I? Or the one who whined when I tried to pull away." You responded, not appreciating how your boyfriend tried to put the blame all on you.

He let out another annoyed huff at your comment, knowing you were right, but obviously he wasn't going to take the blame when he could just continue to put it on you.

"You gave in to the second kiss when you could have easily just stopped."

"Yeah and then deal with your whining and pouty ass the rest of the night?"

"I don't whine!"

You stare at him, eyebrow raised wondering if he seriously believed that.

He did.

"What? I don't pout, or whine! I'm a grown man, not a child.." He said after a couple of seconds of being stared at.

"Mhm.." You hummed out, not wanting to continue with this anymore. Spencer, of course, did not pout at your lack of response.

"Whatever you say Spencer." You chuckled, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead.

He let out yet another huff, completely unappreciating your comments about his maturity.

You let go of his waist, allowing him to back away and sit back down, but instead he looked at you as soon as you let go. You looked back down at him, wondering why he wasn't moving back to his chair.

"What?"

He turned around, making sure the door was closed before leaning back and tugging on your shirt to meet your lips once more.

#spencer reid x male reader #bau x male reader #criminal minds x male reader #male reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #x male reader

[xxchumanixx]

tim bradford x reader

tim knows the reader has a crush on him and so he likes to play around with her about it (flirt, etc) maybe a confession at the end after the reader has finally had enough

Stop talking

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, fluff Word count: 2.508 Authors note: Hello love, I hope you'll like how I wrote it! I'm not a hundred percent happy with it, but that could just be me being tired of studying. Anyways, let's get going!

Enjoy!

Tim and you had been best friends for years now.

You two had went through thick and thin.

He was there with you, whenever you needed him, being your shoulder to cry on or being your support.

You were there for him, when things with Isabel went downhill, her addiction breaking him apart piece by piece, until she had left him in the middle of the night, shattering him completely.

You remember him calling, frantically asking where she went. But you didn't know, being as clueless as him - even more so, not knowing that she was doing drugs in the first place.

When he then confessed her addiction, you nearly lost it. He had went through all of this suffering, carrying this burden for months, all alone.

He should have told you, even if you might would have ratted her out - she couldn't have been going on carrying a weapon whilst being high.

A responsibility she wasn't able to hold anymore.

You've been there for Tim, never letting him down. But as you were taking care of him, supporting him, something inside you slowly shifted.

Or maybe it had been there all along, but you never would have dared to dig further.

You fell in love with him, as wrong as it was. You couldn't love him, not like that, he was your best friend. But as time carried on, your feelings only grew stronger.

It didn't help that he dated a few women over time, breaking your heart again and again.

Somehow along the way of you being his heart mender, he became your heart breaker.

One night, when you were drunk as hell, having gone out to a party, you might have let it slip - or at least hinted at it. You didn't remember everything, but you were quite sure that he knew about your feelings.

Still you hoped for the contrary.

He occasionally would flirt with you - nothing he never did before, no matter with who. But it made your heart flutter, nonetheless.

Especially since he did it more frequently. You weren't able to tell a joke and an earnest flirt from him apart anymore.

It went from him brushing your hand, hugging you on a night out with a few friends to him kissing your cheek, whispering things into your ear.

Nothing seemed too serious, but it confused you, fueling your feelings for him even further. He wasn't like this before.

"Come on, don't be a party pooper!" Tim complained, pointing at the shot of tequila in front of you. Rolling your eyes, you downed it, before slamming it back on the table, after you had refused to drink it at first.

"Happy now?" you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him, even though you weren't really angry with him.

You were at the bar with a few friends, including Tim. He had brought a round of tequila shots to your table, causing you to grimace.

The last time you had tequila, you almost confessed your feelings to him.

He nodded proudly, grinning at you, the action making you swallow, as your heart beat a tad faster.

He would be the death of you.

"What do you say we dance a little?" he asked, already standing up, not giving you any chance to protest. Rolling your eyes playfully, you grabbed the hand he was offering you, following him onto the dance floor, to where most of your friends had already went off to.

Your fingers tingled as they came in contact with his, sending pleasant shivers up your bare arms.

He normally isn't one to dance, you noted. But he seemed a little different the past few weeks, anyway. Maybe it's nothing.

He chuckled, as you clumsily followed his movements.

Yeah, you really weren't one to dance, either.

He approached you, hands on your hips as he started to guide you. "I'm not that bad." you complained, causing one of his brows to rise. "Tell that to my feet." he retorted, grinning.

You blushed, looking away for a split second, as his hands sent a certain warmth through you.

"Are you okay?" he wanted to know, sounding worried. You nodded, sending him a smile that was meant to reassure him.

Even if he wasn't yours, he was at least for this moment.

His fingers dug into your waist, his thumbs brushing circles on your skin, were your shirt had cutouts.

Maybe you shouldn't have listened to Angela when she told you to buy it. It seemed a little flimsy, nothing you would have typically picked.

It just was too exposing.

Now, you were pretty sure every being on planet earth was able to see the goosebumps forming on your skin.

Tim tugged you a little closer, his breath fanning over your face. He did that often lately, you noted again. He more frequently would seek your proximity, even if it was just a brush of his hand against yours, or something as simple as a hug.

He did it on purpose, you were sure of it by now.

He had to bite his tongue, when you entered the bar earlier. Angela really had it coming for him, your shirt with the cutouts surely her doing.

She knew that it was complicated - at least for him it was. He had refrained from thinking about you in a different way more than once, knowing it would lead to no good.

At least not for him.

He wasn't blind, and he wasn't dumb either. When he had picked you up from a party a few weeks ago, you said something that wouldn't leave his mind.

"I'm never the one."

He had asked what you meant, his gaze briefly wandering towards you, as he drove on the still crowded streets of LA.

"I try so hard but I'm never the one." you had just mumbled, looking out of the window. "I'm so dumb. I'm in love with my -" your words were drowned out by someone honking, clearly unhappy with Tim stopping at a red light.

Dumbass.

He could only assume what you were talking about, or rather who, having to bite his lip as the possibilities of how your sentence would have ended pointed at him - your best friend - as well.

It wasn't like he didn't harbor some feelings for you, too. No, in fact they kept him up at night, plaguing his thoughts even when he was dating someone.

But they weren't you.

When you cared for him when Isabel left, he truly learned to value you. He got to know you in a different way, not the best friend one, but the passionate woman you were.

And he couldn't help but keep thinking about it. About you.

"You look good tonight." Tim noted, causing you to blush again, as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. A smile lightly graced your lips, as your eyes met his, the intensity of his stare stealing your breath.

"Thank you." you returned. "You look pretty good as well." He chuckled, smirking. "I know, baby." he agreed playfully, causing you to huff out a laugh, shaking your head at him.

The endearment made your heart flutter, the sound of it still ringing in your head.

Baby...

You liked it.

It added to the list of names he had called you during the past few weeks: darling, sunshine, sweetheart and now baby.

But, over the time he acted different towards you now, it came to bother you a little bit. Did he nowadays call everyone of his friends baby? Did his hands brush those of others like they did yours?

You knew it was silly - to even interpret something into it, was silly as hell.

But you couldn't help it.

Sometimes, like right now, as one of his hands slid a little more downwards, his face inches from yours, you were unsure, not knowing why he did it.

Did he even know himself?

His cologne clouded your senses, the room slightly spinning, and you finally had enough.

"Excuse me." you mumbled, slipping out of his grasp, before hastily making your way towards the front door, pushing it open.

You needed fresh air, otherwise you couldn't think straight.

Fighting against the tears in your eyes, you let out a silent, frustrated cry, hands balling into fists, after you stopped a few feet away.

Something you realized a while back, came to your mind again.

Either you had to quit your friendship, or you had to get rid of these feelings for him.

Both options were heartbreaking.

The door pushed open behind you, steps echoing through the night, before he stood before you. Of course his protective instinct had to kick in.

"What happened?" he wanted to know, confusion and worry etched into his features. "I'm good, just needed some fresh air." you lied, trying to reassure him, not looking at him though.

He shook his head, not believing you. "Y/N, you know you can tell me everything." he tried to get you to open up, but you just snorted.

You didn't mean to, really, it just slipped out.

He leaned down, his eyes searching yours. "Y/N." he pressed, even more worried by your reaction.

"Are you having fun?" you snapped at him, finally looking up. He leaned back a little, brows furrowing. "What do you mean?" he asked, knowing that you didn't mean hanging out at the bar.

You huffed, barely being able to contain a frustrated laugh.

"Do you like making a fool out of me?" you asked a bit louder, arms crossed over your chest. "Because I don't. Whatever it is you are currently going through, don't let it out on me."

His mouth was agape, as he tried to process what you said. "What do you mean?" he wanted to know, though it seemed to dawn on him. He really should have kept more to himself.

"I mean your-" you searched for the right words, getting frustrated again. "Your constant over the top flirtatious behavior, the touches! Maybe I'm just misinterpreting things, but something's been different for the last couple weeks!"

He huffed, brows raised. He was right with his assumption, he had to admit that he went overboard with it. But he wanted to test his theory - and he had desperately hoped he was right.

"Do you remember the night I picked you up, after that party you went to?´" he inquired, biting his cheek.

Of course you did - how could you not if you almost spilled the truth in your drunken state?

"What about it?" you gave back, not sure if you really wanted to hear it. "Do you remember what you said?" he asked, eyes fixed on yours. Inhaling shakily, you licked your lip.

"I don't know what you mean."

His eyes rolled, as he shook his head, getting worked up. His patience was running thin, you playing dumb not helping the case.

"You know exactly what I mean." he deadpanned, arms crossing over his chest. Trying to hold back the tears that welled up, you looked down at the ground. "And?"

He sighed, taking a small step closer.

"I know what you feel."

He risked it, he had to. He didn't have the patience to play around. He needed to know if he was right.

"I know that you have feelings for me."

Your heart stopped, before it doubled its speed, as your cheeks grew unbearably hot.

"You don't know what I feel." you tried to deflect, shaking your head as a tear managed to spill. "You don't know how it feels to love someone you can't have, to watch the person you have feelings for go out on dates. To watch said person delve into a relationship, breaking your heart over and over again."

He sucked in a breath, finally having his confirmation.

"But I-" he wanted to interject, but you didn't let him.

"You don't know, how hard it is to have to choose." you continued, briefly looking up at him. His face was contorted, like he was in pain, as he opened his mouth to speak - but you didn't let him, again.

"Either I get rid of these feelings as quick as possible or I distance myself. It both fucking hurts to think about."

He grew impatient, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, as he waited for you to shut up. But you were rambling on, eventually causing him to snap.

"You-" He didn't let you talk this time, as he grabbed your face, pulling you closer, not giving you any time to process, as his lips met yours. They moved demandingly against yours, his hands tilting your head to get better access.

When your mind finally processed what was happening, you returned the kiss, leaning towards him.

Why was he kissing you?

Not that you complained, though. It felt heavenly, his lips being soft and warm. They moved in synch with yours, his tongue licking into your mouth.

When he let go of you after a while, you gasped for air, eyes wide as you looked at him.

"Stop talking." he muttered, breathing heavily, his pupils blown wide. "I wasn't sure if I heard you right. But I had to try - I had to know it. Yes, I fooled around by flirting with you, but that was to find out how you'd react."

One of his hands brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, before it stilled on your cheek.

"I have feelings for you, Y/N." he admitted and the butterflies in your stomach exploded. "I know that it's wrong, but fuck it. After what happened with Isabel, I didn't want to fall in love with someone like you again - someone that knows me like the back of her hand, someone that knows all my weak spots. But I was wrong. I never should have dated someone just to get rid of these feelings for you - instead I should have asked you out on a date."

Mouth agape, you stared at him, pure happiness and warmth pulsing through you.

"And that's what I'm gonna do now." he continued, eyes locked onto yours. "Do you want to go out for dinner with me?"

A tear managed to escape your eye, but he was quick to wipe it away.

"Yes, Tim, I'd love to." you spoke shakily, smiling at him through the tears in your eyes. "And yes, you are right - I do have feelings for you. I just never thought you would even consider me."

He rolled his eyes, muttering a bullshit.

"Let's go out and we'll see if my flirting is appreciated now." he offered, smirking a little. Huffing, you swatted at his arm. "It was appreciated, thank you very much."

He laughed, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders, as he guided you back to the bar.

"Let's go, or we'll be arrested for not paying our bills."

"Our first date being in a cell at the police station - how romantic!"

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine

[cupid-styles]

can you do a blurb of ymls harry defending yn when someone judges their situation/her pregnancy pls

yes omg I love this idea!! (sorry if this isn't my best, I only have the brain capacity to write short blurbs rn but I missed these cuties)

word count: 825

content warnings: pregnant y/n

ymls masterlist | main masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Y/N can't think of a worse place to be at right now.

When she agreed to be Harry's date to his office's holiday party, it was mainly because he was borderline pouting. Ever since they kissed and confessed feelings to one another (well... attempted to, anyway — Harry's gloating kind of got in the way), she's found it increasingly more difficult to say no to the silly things he wants to do. And now that Christmas is rapidly approaching, he's far more keen on requesting her presence at things, like those drive-thru light shows that cost $70 a car, or, in this case, clutching a Diet Coke and pretending to be interested in whatever Harry's co-worker is talking her ear off about.

Thankfully, Harry can tell from across the room that she's on the cusp of falling asleep from this person's incessant droning — were they talking about... computer parts? Y/N really couldn't tell — and he quickly traipses across the room, his hand finding the small of her back.

"Hey, Jason!" he greets in mock excitement, the volume of his voice enough to make Y/N jump, "I see you met Y/N."

Jason's eyes dart between the two, confusion clear on his face. Y/N's posture straightens some and she assumes her typical defensive stance with one hand cradling her baby bump.

"I didn't know you two came here together," Jason, apparently, replies through slightly squinted eyes. "Wait... is this the girl you're having a baby with?"

It's an odd question, but one that they've become semi-used to. Harry's willing to be more patient about it, while Y/N's quicker to tell someone off for asking. In her defense, he understands; you likely wouldn't ask a couple that question, and the definition of their relationship was still a bit... blurred.

"Is there a problem with that?" Y/N snaps, her grasp tightening around the cheap plastic cup in her hand.

"Well— no, we just heard that Harry was having a baby but it wasn't with a girlfriend or anything and— well, it's kind of weird that you brought her but then she's not really your date, is she?"

In the time that they've known each other, Y/N has rarely seen Harry get angry. She can actually count it on one hand actually, and they've all been fueled by silly tequila-fueled encounters, like when Dom wouldn't let him eat chicken nuggets because he's a pescatarian and it was for his own good.

This, though... this is different, and Y/N can immediately tell. He immediately looks more defensive and shifts his body slightly so that he's standing in front of Y/N, covering her stomach. He crosses his arms over his chest, his head cocked to the side as a perplexed facial expression appears.

"I don't really think it's any of your business, Jason," Harry responds easily, a clipped tone to his voice, "Regardless of whether we're dating or not, you don't really get to have an opinion on that, hm?"

"Well— yes, I suppose you're right, it just seemed like she's single—"

"She's right here," Y/N cuts in, crossing her leg over the other. "And why the fuck would you care if I'm single? You never had a chance with me to begin with."

Jason's lips part, shock and confusion written all over his face. It seems like he's in some sort of weird man stare-off with Harry, one that she quickly grows tired of, so she reaches up to tug at the sleeve of Harry's sweater. Immediately, he peels his gaze away and looks down at her.

"'s fine," she murmurs, quietly enough so he's the only person that can hear, "Okay?"

He nods curtly. In an instant, his arm loops around Y/N's shoulders as he guides her away from that dumb fuck in the engineering department.

"You alright?" he asks softly, motioning for her to sit down at one of the high-top bar stools. She nods.

"I'm fine. You seemed pretty pissed, though."

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "He's a prick anyway."

She snickers and shakes her head, "You're kinda hot when you're mad, you know that?"

"Shush," he mumbles, waving down the bartender as he wills a flowering blush away, "Want another soda?"

"Please."

He orders them both a refill — he decided to stop drinking a few weeks into her pregnancy in solidarity — and leans back against the bar. His eyes flicker to her, realizing that she's watching him intently. He can't help that he's reflecting on the minor argument, but his eyes brighten slightly when he remembers something she said.

"So, he never had a chance?"

Y/N lets out a loud laugh. "Nah. Kind of have my eyes on someone else."

"Oh? Spill the deets, girly."

She smirks, "Hm, brown hair, tall, always reading pregnancy books... sometimes he texts me random questions or name suggestions at like 2 am. Last night he asked if he can record a podcast for the baby so they can get weekly updates."

"God, sounds like a nerd," Harry replies with a toothy grin.

"Mm, yeah. He definitely is."

#bestie asks #writing #ymls concept

[itstheghostofmypast]

☆22.59☆

(College AU) Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: Of course, they loved each other. He was obsessed with her. She, with him to some extent, but to recognise each other outside the four walls of their comfort was a 'no-no'. Perhaps because as much as they loved each other, who knew being academic rivals would be so problematic.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: nc-17

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.9K

Est. Read Time: 13 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

"I'm so glad we're done with exams." He sighed, sitting down and rolling his shoudlers, before rubbing his neck and eying the food, then deciding to order another round.

"Mhmm... I was so glad to close all the tabs today. My laptop practically thanked me." Smiling, she leaned forward on her elbows, "Is this why we're having an expensive meal?"

Her words held no real malice, but an air of unease, she never liked how he'd casually spend like this, especially on her, she had done nothing to deserve this, and the constant reminder of how he'd always pay whenever it was pricey would nip at her self pride.

He paused to look at her before pouting, "No, I just wanted to treat my girl." Mumbling he moved the tray towards her, gesturing for her to start first, trying to ignore her lingering gaze, the eerie nostalgia setting in, he knew what she'd get like during exam season, extremely cynical and skeptical, to be honest he was no different- but they were finally free and perhaps he just wanted to enjoy a nice meal with her, no hidden intentions or ulterior motives, nothing to think about but each other.

"Then let's go dutch-"

"Not a chance." His abrupt words cut her off, for a split second his tone reverted back to the one she was used to, the tone he'd use back in the day, to snub her or out do her while answering, this tone was often accompanied by a scoff, the only gesture that would mildly indicate that this was but a fun little game, though she knew when the tone was all that would surface, he'd be serious, in no mood for negotiation. Fortunately,  he had barely ever used it with her, often in times of forcing her to do something good for herself, like to rest or to eat, but she'd seen him use the same tone with a few people, who were once her friends, he didn't know she was there, standing behind the wall, listening to him call out her so called friends, people who'd just use her for her work, leeching off her academics, knowing she'd be too tired to even argue or say no, or even too guilty when one of them would bring up how smart she was and that made her arrogant- she heard him that day, the crisp morning air wasn't as cold as his words,

"Your incompetence is a curse you should bear on your own. Don't drag others down in that pitiful hole of yours, especially her."

That day she had lost an entire circle of friends, at a point she wondered if it was even worth it, wondered why he even said that when a class ago he had called her 'a silly little girl' for arguing about what a Freudian slip was when she was clearly wrong, now here he was defending her honour? On the same day he had come to her, sitting next to her in the library and slipping her a coupon, initially she had thought he was insulting her- a typical bourgeoisie move, only to realise it was a coupon for a couple's meal, noticing him side eying her to read her expressions. She had turned to him, pointing at the coupon, herself and then him, and as wordlessly as she had spoken, he too nodded, pointing at himself, her and then the coupon. Something had begun to blossom between the two that day, a relationship both were too afraid to talk about, perhaps because of their on going rivalry since the beginning of their academic year, or the way they'd ignore each other until one would bother the other, or perhaps the fear of being questioned by the lingering gazes around the hallways,  the whispers the wind carried around the campus- wanting not to be part of the gust of wind, choosing to keep whatever this was hidden, a secret shared by just the two.

"I mean...I'd prefer you don't, I wanted to treat you," his argument coming out softer, as he nodded to the waiter who had entered the private section after knocking, to place another tray in front of them, "Just us and a nice meal...I haven't spent enough time with you....that's why." Clearing his throat , he avoided the way she studied him, eyes scanning each feature, every gesture, every breath he'd take, to be able to study his next more, to prepare herself. Truth be told he hated it when she'd do that, this was the first thing that irked him about her, and although he had always been gentle natured, this trait of hers would always have his ulterior ego surface, ready to claw her. It took him some time to realise that was just the face she'd make while thinking, not only at him but everyone, including her exam sheet. That did not mean that being together made it any easy for him, in fact, now he'd feel small when she'd look at him like that, he'd feel as if his sincerity was being questioned, it made him dislike himself, was he not clear enough? Was the choice of words not point to point? Maybe his tone was ooff-

"Oh...well you're right, I guess I am to blame for that, I kind of mentally blocked you out." Mumbling sheepishly she reached across the table to hold his hand, her the tips of her fingers caressing the back of his hand, noting how he visibly relaxed, "In my defense there's this annoying guy in class who thinks he's so smart-"

"Thinks?" With a scoff he laced their fingers together, leaning closer to the table to eye her, his frown morphing into his signature dimpled smile at the sound of her laughter, before he continued, adding onto the playful banter, "Last time I checked this guy beat you in the Moral Philosophy 101 quiz and assignment."

Shrugging in response she grabbed the chopsticks with her free hand, "Beginners luck. Also consequentialism sucks, you're just a utilitarian at heart, that's why you got lucky." With that verdict she began eating, earning a cackle in return, the atmosphere around them calming down once more, allowing her to relax, much to his pleasure. He had begged her to go out with him last week too, claiming that they were left with just one exam so they could relax a bit, though she had threatened to block him if he kept pestering her, which is why he had stopped spam texting her.

However, finally tonight, now that they were free he had earned the right to become her Sannie again, to roll around on her bed, messing with the sheets while she would be scrolling on her phone trying to ignore how his antics were toppling off her plushies to the floor. He'd be able to whine and complain when she'd wake him up early because the 'cafeteria is serving Yaki Udon',

"Go, they let you sneak some to your dorm, sneak some here"

"It's...6 am...let's just eat something else."

"If I had the rich boy privellage,  I'd go myself, but alas-"

"Are you really guilt tripping me for being rich?"

"No, my sweet nepo-baby I'm stating a mere fact."

"A nepo-baby would be a business major like his father, not a communication major-"

"And that's why you're my favourite boy, Sannie."

That day he got her four bowls of udon, even sneaking in the dessert Wooyoung had gotten for himself, and when asked he told Wooyoung he had eaten it, never mentioning her.

That was another issue, he had to keep his relationship a secret from his friends too, initially it was fun, the thrill and excitement would have him shivering with glee, but recently, after most of his friends now had a significant other whom they would publicly walk around with or show affection to, he had begun to wonder if she'd ever want that with him. Or were they just college sweethearts, soon to be forgotten, a bitter sweet memory plastered at the back of their minds, one to return to when times would get rough.

"What's wrong?"

Her question cutting off his thought process only for him to realise how he had just been staring at his food, while she was half way done. Clearing his throat he gave her a gentle smile, shaking his head before reaching for the soda, pouring both of them a glass. Maybe some other time, he'd ask her some other time, right now he could see how she was enjoying herself, he could see how comfortable she was with him, he had no real intentions of ruining the moment.

"Are you sure? You're making the same face you did, when you had to present last semester." Just like that he had lost all the love he had for her, no, he was dating a monster, a demon in the skin of an angel, the human embodiment of Godzilla. Eyes narrowing at her direction he scoffed, leaning back to take off his jacket, before responding with a taunt, "Says the person who forgot the meaning of utility while presenting".

With a gasp she placed her hand on her heart,  staring at him in faux shock, "You fiend, that's because I'm a Kant girlie at heart."

"So...you don't think the ends justify the means?" He asked cautiously, though not of her feelings, but of the risk of his own fragile heart, too afraid to let it slip out of her grasp and shatter.

"The ends, never justify the means, Sannie."  She smiled, staring at him only for it to drop when she noticed him frown at his plate, slowly nodding as he looked up at her, "Yeah...I guess..."

"What's...wrong, something has been bothering you since we came here." She sighed pushing her plate aside, watching him take out his buzzing phone, choosing to stare at the phone rather than him.

"Nothing."

His blunt response nipping at her insecurities, what did she do? Should she not have said that? Did she offend him? Was he going to leave her now? They were in their final year anyway, the time spent together was supposed to come to an end and as much as she wanted to cling onto the false hope of him somehow spending the rest of his life together with her, she knew that was but a wish, reality was far too bitter, far too grim, leaving the two to wonder when they'd become a distant memory.

"Okay."

There it was, his eyes flickered up to scan her face, that defeated look she'd hold when she'd give up, why would she never fight for him? Why didn't she pester him to finish his statement, why didn't she cling onto him, pulling him closer even though he knew he'd run to her at any given moment, he was only waiting for the signal, waiting for her to say the word. Maybe Wooyoung was right, this was just a fun arrangement for the two, a temporary one, which is why Hongjoong had asked him to confront her, but he didn't want to, yet, here he was by choosing to not confront her he had somehow made it worse.

Visibly flinching under his glare she averted her gaze, clearing her throat, playing with her fingers as she stared at her lap aimlessly, so what now?

"What about us?" His words a gentle whisper as he put his phone on the table beside his plate, hunching forward to get a better look at her face, "Does our end justify our means?"

Her head snapped up in his direction, the burning sensation of the flood of tears at the brink of falling, she could feel the fat droplets clinging to her lower lashes, chewing on her lower lip as she tried to compose herself, "Which end...Sannie, the one where we say goodbye?"

His frown only deepened at her question, taking in her shaking form, pinching himself as he tried ro remain rooted to his spot. Seonghwa had told him to listen to her, to comfort and console her because women need time to process and cope, especially someone like her, but then Hongjoong's persistent 'What if she really is with you for the ride',  kept bothering him, what if he were right, but at the back of his mind, this little voice was yelling at him, telling him how that was not true, how he'd seen her take care of him, how he'd felt her love for him; from when she'd slip in her extra notes in his bag for him to study to when she'd slip in a few packets of mint oreo in his bag as a treat. He knew they were more than just a fling, or at least he would like to believe that.

"Do you ... want us to?" His words as soft as the first time he had confessed to her, making her feel even more nauseous than before, though with a gulp she held it back before shaking her head and mumbling a, "No...do you?"

Shaking his head, much like her he sighed before staring aimlessly at her, "Then...why won't you fight for me?" This was less of a question, but more of a whine, a plea, one that had her finally snap.

Her sniff having him focus on her, watching her bring up her hands to cover her face, as she hunched over, making sure he couldn't see her cry, a trait that bothered him, he'd barely ever see her breakdown, even during the stressful exam season, she'd lock herself in the washroom and let it out, while he'd either wait outside the washroom (if he was lucky enough for her to let him into her dormroom) or like most exam seasons he'd be at his own dorm, trying to call her or text her.

"Why can't our end be happy?" He mumbled, finally choosing to get up and  walk around the table and to her, glad he had reserved a closed off private section. Sighing he reached for her, gently gripping her wrists as he pulled her hands off her face, ignoring her whines and protest, "Tell me, why do you think we can't have a happy end?" Pulling her up to wrap his arms around her, letting her fist his shirt, soaking it with her tears, sobbing out a, "Because our means of doing so aren't good."

Pulling her back he stared at her, gripping her shoulders, "What do you mean? Do you not want to keep it a secret anymore?"

"I never wanted to keep it a secret, at least I dont want to anymore." She mumbled trying to hide in his embrace once more but he pulled her back again, much to her disappointment as he tried to read her, "I just thought...your image and...I...maybe you didn't want to tell anyone."

By now he had sat her back down leaning against the table as he looked at her, holding onto her hand, his thumbs caressing the back of her hand, listening to her, raising his eyebrows, "No..." he sighed before gently smiling at her, "I've been dropping hints for a while now. My last hint was what led the guys to pick up on the fact that we are together."

So his friends knew?

"Do they think I'm weird?" She whispered, trying to pull away her hand but he held onto her tighter, shaking his head and letting out a laugh, "If anything they thought I tricked you into dating me...Wooyoung didn't even believe me until he saw our pictures." He smiled at her, the memory of his friends accusing him for lying, making it even funnier, "Yeosang said he could tell you're into dumb guys."

"Well, you are dumb. There's no doubt about that." She mumbled, standing up and moving closer, so she was standing between his legs. Cupping his face, she smiled when he glared at her. The eerie sensation that was once slithering in her veins long gone, "I don't remember a single hint, though."

"How?" He whined, pouting at her, leaning into her touch, closing his eyes as he basked in the attention,  the same attention he knew he would recieve publically from now on, there would be nothing holding them back, not her toxic friends, those who stared or whispered, in fact his friends would just support them, perhaps she needed such a support system too, would be good for her, "Yesterday after the exam I called you out, I said see you tomorrow babe."

"Thought that was a Freudian slip."

"Oh, so now you know what a Freudian slip is?" His eyes snapped open, brows furrowing at her smug expression, hissing when she squeezed his cheeks together, only to pull back when he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight until she was wheezing out apologies. Giving him a proper hug once he eased down on her, she sighed, pressing her forehead against his,"I really do like you, Sannie."

"I like you too." He smiled, feeling her brush her lips against his, whispering against her lips, only his next statement had him feeling her stiffen and possibly struggle against him but he held her tight, not wanting to be smacked, "They updated the marksheet, I scored higher than you in Moral Philosophy....again...sorry babe." Followed by his boisterous laughter and her whining to let him go, greatly ruining the moment.

A/N: I had to get this out of my system okay- my exams just finished. The next update ya'll will see will be of Meow Chapter 4

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt

#cromernet #k labels #ateez #choi san #mingi #hongjoong #jongho #seonghwa #yeosang #yunho #san x you #san x reader #san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san fluff #choi san angst #ateez x you #ateez scenario #ateez fanfic #san fanfic #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung #san fluff #atz scenarios #atz imagines #ateez timestamps #kpop #ateez x female reader #atz x reader #atz

[sunny44]

I can’t do this anymore

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Warnings: fights and mentions of divorce.

Summary: Y/n is tired of living in a marriage where she is the only one who puts him as a priority.

Next chapter

I knew that marriages were not easy, and I also knew that it would be hard to be married to a guy who spends most of the year away from home.

Carlos and I met when we were 20, dated for 5 and have been married for 3, we have never had any problems that would make me think about not being with him anymore.

But lately this thought has been haunting me and silently torturing me.

We are already at a stage in our relationship where we should be thinking about having a family, or are already trying to.

Actually I was thinking about it but it seems that Carlos wants to avoid this thought at all costs.

I try to bring him into a conversation and he cuts me off, changes the subject or even says that he can't be a father right now.

This weekend was the race in Spain and me and his family were here cheering for him.

"Are you okay honey?" His mother asks.

"Yeah, just a little nauseous." At the same time she smiles.

"Honey that's great, I knew you and Carlos were at that part of the relationship but I didn't think it was this close."

"No, no I'm not pregnant." Her smile fades. "I wanted to but I'm not and I don't think I will be for a long time."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing." I try to deflect the subject.

"Come on, let's get some coffee." I sigh and go with her.

After we buy the coffees and find a quieter place and she returns to the subject.

"Is something going on with you and Carlos? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, or at least I think so."

"Do you want to tell me?"

"It's just that we've been together for many years now and I thought by this point in our relationship we'd be planning to have a family and everything but Carlos doesn't seem very interested in that." I took a sip of my coffee. "I guess we are at different points in our lives."

"And that worries you doesn't it?"

"It's just that Carlos has putting his career first more than anything right now and I know how important it is to him and that's not a problem for me, it never has been. It's just that at the end of it all what we have in life is our family and I don't want to have to wait any longer for him to decide he wants to before we get started."

"I'm sorry about that." I smiled and wiped my tears away.

"It's okay." She smiles and we remain silent.

…

We were already back at home, Carlos had come in second place and obviously wasn't one of the happiest but he wasn't unhappy either.

"Can we talk?" I asked sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I'm tired now."

"But you're not to watch soccer aren't you." I said ironically starting to get up but he held my hand and turned off the TV.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's talk."

"We're fine aren't we?"

"Of course we're fine, why are you asking that?”

"Because I feel like every time I go to talk to you about our family or the lack of it you cut me off and change the subject and that makes me feel like you don't want or you don’t want with me."

"Love is not that." He comes closer and wipes a tear that has run down my cheek. "It's not that I don’t want to have a family with you but we can't right now."

"What do you mean we can't now?"

"It's just that I really feel like I have a chance to win this year and I can't have any distractions." At this I laughed wryly.

"Distractions? Is that what I am to you? A fucking distraction." I get up from the couch. "I’m sorry Carlos that I'm a distraction to you and that me thinking about our future is something that bothers you so much, but I'm not going to stand here and let my life pass me by just because you don't want to have a family."

"What does that mean?"

"That I can't do this anymore." He got up from the couch. "I don't want to wait around anymore waiting for you to decide whether or not to have children because I want to, I want to be a mother, I want to leave something in this world after I die and I'm not going to wait around for you anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"I want a divorce."

"What? Babe don’t say that."

"I've already made up my mind Carlos. I've been thinking about it for a while and I didn't want this because I love you so much but you're leaving me no other option." He tries to get close to me but I pull away. "I'm going to get my things and go to my parents house and I'm going to start divorce proceedings as soon as possible."

I didn't even let him speak, I just went upstairs to our room and grabbed a suitcase and started putting some things inside.

When I came downstairs he was sitting on the couch in shock.

"I'll get the rest of my stuff another time." He doesn't even look at me and I even think he heard well so I just walked out leaving my whole life behind.

And that's when I realized that the worst feeling is when you don't want to give up on someone but you know you have to.

Let me know if you guys are interested in a part 2

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