#2 days ago i had nothing better to do than think about 'what if these 5 ocs i have were directioners'
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ᥫ᭡. THAT’S MY SISTER YOU BITCH
Summary: Despite Sarah and Rafe’s volatile relationship, that’s your sister.
Warnings: Violence, illusions to sex, swearing.
You had a great day so far. You'd woken up to Rafe in between your legs, waking you up in the best way possible before he made you both breakfast as you watched him from the island. Sometimes you just liked to ponder on how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like Rafe. To everyone else, you were far from lucky but you liked it that way- knowing only you got the real Rafe Cameron.
Now, you were on your way back from grocery shopping, planning to make Rafe a romantic meal when he arrived back from work. Blasting music from your car speakers, you were completely in the zone. Until you drove up to the City Hall, glancing ahead you saw Kelce's red truck, which you thought nothing of until you saw him and his idiotic friends surrounding John B and Sarah.
Alarmed, you pulled up next to the truck, gathering the attention of everyone. Despite being a kook yourself, you were far different from the rest of them. You didn't care about pogues, to you they were like anyone else, in fact often you preferred the pogues in the Outer Banks to the kooks. Rafe's circle exclusively consisted of kooks, meaning you often received a lot of respect from kooks even though you spent a lot of your time arguing with them. Rafe didn't mind it, you were his girlfriend and lover, so if you wanted to yell he wouldn't stop you.
"Problem?" You asked, slamming your car door shut behind you. Just as Sarah hit the ground. Immediately you rushed towards Sarah. Yeah, Rafe and Sarah had problems they needed to get past but to you, Sarah was still as important as she was 2 years ago. You were proud of her for finding her true love and true friends, and you always let her know that you would always be there for her. And this time was no exception. Putting two and two together, you saw Ruthie standing much closer to Sarah than the other kooks who looked at her in shock.
They all stood stunned at your arrival, to be honest, you were probably the worst possible person to show up at that exact moment. Everyone knew your opinions on the Pogues were far more empathetic than the other kooks. "No, no problem" Kelce muttered, beginning to pull Ruthie and the others back from Sarah and John B, to which they happily obliged. Not on your watch.
"Oh no, don't stop on my accord guys. Please whatever you were going to do next. Do it." Walking over to them, Ruthie stood stunned at your arrival. Since she started dating Topper, you got a lot of joy out of berating her, publically. For once, she didn't back down at your words. "She needs to watch herself. She pushed me first, it was self-defence." Ruthie said, glancing behind you to see John B pulling Sarah to her feet.
Snorting you replied, "Ruthie, I'm not Shoupe. Don't start pleading your case, I don't care." She stalled at your response, for a moment thinking that you were on her side for pushing Sarah before you pulled her back to reality. Walking closer to her, edgingly slow, you pressed, "You think you're all big and mighty for pushing Sarah? She's 19 Ruthie, you're what? 21? Don't you think you should play with someone your own size?"
Behind you, John B and Sarah smirked at the group. Unbeknownst to you, Sarah was pregnant and John B was far too occupied to make sure Sarah was okay than to pick a fight with Kelce and his goons today. But you happily would, and even better so because who was going to fight back against the kook princess? Definitely not these ones.
“Well?” You pushed, as you stood toe to toe with Ruthie. You were growing impatient, Rafe would have finished work by now meaning that soon he’d come looking for you- and you’d rather give Ruthie a good couple punches before Rafe showed up.
“Okay times up.” Before she could even think, your fist sent her backwards onto the floor, just how Sarah had been when when you arrived. Groaning, she lifted her hands to cover her nose, assumably bleeding- hopefully broken if Rafe’s self defence lessons had done some good. “Oh my god- I think you broke my nose. You bitch.” She shrieked, pulling her hands away to reveal blood beginning to pour from her nose.
Ruthie was nothing but a bully, a bully you’d had enough of tormenting the island. Your legs either side of her chest you crouched over her, “Don’t worry you still look just as bad as before.” You muttered as you flew your fist back into her face that she left unguarded. Idiot. Her screaming began again, as you moved off from her, deciding that your two punches had done enough damage. Wow, you’d really have to thank Rafe for those lessons.
“Just wait until Topper hears about this, he will deal with you.” One of the other kooks muttered from behind Kelce. “Yeah I’m sure Topper will be sure to deal with me.” You laughed, Topper wouldn’t touch a hair on your arm as long as you were dating Rafe- everyone knew that.
“You want to fuck with someone, not Sarah.” You spat at them, watching Ruthie sadly pull herself to her feet, with the help of no one. “That’s my sister you bitch. Now fuck off.” At your command, Kelce briskly walked back over to his truck, as the others followed just as fast, allowing you to turn back to John B and Sarah.
You were greeted to their smiling faces, both as grateful as each other. But you noticed, a twinge of emotion still lingering on Sarah’s face. Hearing you call her your sister in combination with her pregnancy hormones, was due to set her off to cry. Before she could get out any words, you spoke for her. “You are my sister regardless of whatever is going on between you and Rafe. You’re family.” Turning to John B, you continued, “That extends to you, hubby.” You winked looking down at the ring on his finger.
With a red blush covering their faces, they praised you in thank yous. “Don’t need to thank me for doing something I’ve been wanting to do for months.” Glancing back to see the red truck had disappeared.
“Now, you can thank me for warning you that Rafe will be here any minute and I’m not sure you want to see him.”
—————————
“Baby, please be more careful next time.” Rafe muttered, as he wrapped your knuckles in bandages. He was more than shocked to find you outside the city hall- alone- but with bloody knuckles. Only with the explanation, that you had an altercation with Ruthie, surprisingly over Sarah. He was confused to say the least, he wasn’t even aware that Ruthie had a problem with his little sister. But the more he thought about it, of course she did- Topper still hadn’t gotten over her.
“In fact, there will be no next time. Ever.” Kissing your knuckles, he pulled you onto his chest as he lied back on your shared king bed. Stroking your hair, he let his mind wonder. Should he have been there to protect Sarah? But they hadn’t had a good relationship in years, he couldn’t just suddenly start caring for her. He also couldn’t let you get into situations that could get you hurt over protecting Sarah.
You noticed his body still and you knew instantly his mind was wondering thinking about Sarah. Without moving your head from his chest you spoke, “Rafe. I love Sarah. I know you have a difficult relationship at the moment and whilst you can’t protect her I will.” Letting the silence sit between you for a moment, you decided to continue.
“She’s our only family, Rafe.” He didn’t move, but you both knew how right you were. She was all you had left. “I know baby, I know.” He whispered, laying a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his mind slip back into imagining how he can rectify this broken relationship with his sister.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe cameron x female reader
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Pretty Boy - Ch 2 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Buddie x Reader)
Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.
Ch 1
A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: descriptions of gun violence, mental health issues/suicide ideation (nothing overly graphic IMO)
Unlike some people who work in this building, you know how to take orders. So, instead of dragging your feet and prolonging the inevitable, you go to Bobby’s office the second you get back from the call. Hen tries to say something to you, but you’re so focused on having this conversation behind you that you ignore her.
Despite the door being cracked open, you knock a few times.
“Come in,” Bobby says.
You step in. He looks up.
“Ah,” he remarks as if it’s a surprise to see you. “You can close the door behind you.”
You close the door and lean against it.
“Have a seat,” Bobby instructs as he files through some random papers.
You let out a sigh. You were hoping to be in and out, but Bobby clearly has other ideas. Still, you do as you’re told.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Buck.”
As if you’d be in here for anything else.
“Are you gonna write me up?” You ask instinctually. You’ve never been formally disciplined, so the question is gnawing at you.
“Buck wants me to.”
You snort. “Buck wants a lot of things; most children do.”
“You’re a year younger than him,” Bobby points out.
It’s true—Buck is 26, and you’re 25. But in this context especially, age is just a number. You’re a 25-year-old advanced practice paramedic with 3 years of experience who acts their age. Buck is a 26-year-old firefighter in his probationary period who acts like a frat boy.
“Are you going to write me up?” You repeat.
Bobby gives you a look, then sighs with a crooked smile. “No. But if you do anything like that again, you’ll be hearing from me and Sergeant Grant.”
“Fair enough,” you cede.
There are a few silent beats in the conversation. This is why Bobby made you sit—he has more to say.
“Why does he bother you so much?” Bobby asks.
“Literally everything I told him: he’s wreckless and he’s gonna get someone killed if he doesn’t change.”
“So why not teach him to do better, to be better?”
“Trust me, Cap, I’ve tried,” you chuckle. “I mean, even earlier today, I taught him how to clear an obstruction in a neonatal airway. And honestly? For a few minutes, when he was running down the stairs with that baby in his arms, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.’ And then he yells at Sergeant Grant, and he proves me wrong. Again.”
“I’m talking to him and Sergeant Grant about how everything went down,” Bobby says.
“I’m not telling you that to get him in trouble, I just…” You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out as a sigh. “It felt like no one was holding him accountable. And I’ve tried playing nice, and I’ve tried teaching him, and he still had the nerve to pretend that he can play god. And I just… lost it, and thought that maybe if I treat him like a man would, he would finally listen to me.”
Bobby nods, taking in everything you’ve said.
“You think I don’t hold him accountable?” He eventually asks.
You let out another sigh. “If Buck worked under any other LAFD Captain, they would have canned his ass about three months ago.”
“But is that the right thing to do?” Bobby counters. “This job is tough, and it isn’t something that can be taught overnight. Buck has potential—he could be an invaluable asset some day.”
“Is firing him the right call? Honestly, Bobby, I have no idea,” you admit. “But if people have to get hurt in order for Buck to be good at his job, then it isn’t worth the price.”
Bobby ended up firing Buck a few days later. It wasn’t for what happened with Sergeant Grant; it was because, apparently, Bobby caught him having sex with some girl on a roof. He used one of the fire trucks to drive there. The moron didn’t realize they have GPS trackers. You got all of this information in a text from Hen.
You turn the corner to the locker room, planning to put away your keys and wallet before starting your shift like you always do. You didn’t expect to see Buck sitting on the bench in front of the lockers.
You plan on opening your locker, throwing your stuff in it, and leaving before Buck can say anything. The second you lift the lever, though, Buck turns his head towards you.
He doesn’t say anything, and you definitely aren‘t going to break the silence.
“So you heard, huh?” Buck says.
You close your locker and spin the lock to scramble it. “Yeah, I did.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything else?”
“Tough break. Sorry, man,” you say with a shrug. You turn on your heel to leave.
“That’s it?” Buck says with a laugh. “A few days ago, you were slamming me against an ambulance, and now… nothing? Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘I told you so’?”
Buck doesn’t even work at the 118 anymore, and he still has a way of getting under your skin. You close your eyes, hoping you can gain some composure before you say anything.
“I’m sorry for pushing you; that was unprofessional,” you say and make your second attempt at leaving.
“But that’s all you're sorry for,” Buck says, rising to his feet.
You turn around and eye him from head to toe. His chest isn’t puffed out in that hypermasculine way it normally is. Buck shifts his weight between feet, and when the pressure of your stare becomes too much, he breaks eye contact.
“It’s like Sergeant Grant said: I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” you eventually reply.
“Then say it: you’re happy to see me go.”
Jesus Christ, he can be such a baby.
“Okay, fine, you wanna go there?” you retort, taking a step forward. “You wanna know the worst thing about you, Buck?”
He just looks at you.
“You. You’re the worst thing about you. Because you could’ve been good. You’ve got decent skills, and you have heart, but you have no discipline. You can’t take orders, and you can’t look at a woman for more than thirty seconds without having sex with her. You’re a 16-year-old boy trapped in a 26-year-old man’s body, and ever since you started, you haven’t done anything to change it. You get in your own way and are too busy flirting or running your mouth to even realize it.”
You take another step towards him to ensure he hears what you’re about to say. “You could’ve been good. And I hope that shit haunts you. Because maybe, it’ll finally make you grow up.”
You start to make your exit again but linger in the doorway. You turn back around; there’s one more thing you want to say.
“I’m not happy to see you go, Evan. In fact, I was really hoping you would prove me wrong.”
And with that, you’re gone.
You and Hen go out on a ‘shortness of breath’ call that ends up being a STEMI — a heart attack. You get him to the nearest hospital in five minutes, and if they can get him to the cath lab, he has a really good shot at surviving it. The patient’s wife hugs both you and Hen, thanking the two of you for doing such a wonderful job. You savor the feeling; most calls don’t end this way.
When you pull into the station, there’s an engine missing. At first, you think it’s no big deal: the boys are probably out on a fire call. Then you see Bobby standing where the engine’s supposed to be.
“What’s going on, Cap?” Hen asks as she closes the door to the rig.
“There’s an engine missing.”
“Yeah, clearly,” you chuckle.
“There were reports of a residential break-in on Lambert Street in Winnetka,” Bobby continues.
“Damn,” Hen whistles.
You both heard something about that over the scanner on your drive back to the station; there was a suspected hostage, a young girl. Last you heard, the subject was trying to flee by motorcycle.
“All of the 118 firemen are accounted for,” Bobby concludes.
You and Hen share a look. Who has a track record of borrowing engines without permission?
The truck pulls up and slowly backs into the garage. You catch a glimpse of the driver in one of the rearview mirrors.
“Pretty Boy,” you say simply.
Buck steps out of the truck, still wearing the jeans and long-sleeved grey shirt you last saw him in. “I know what this looks like.”
“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes,” Bobby says as he approaches the younger man.
“I didn't really have time to change,” Buck counters. He doesn’t say it in his normal cocky tone, though. Frankly, he looks nervous.
“Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are.” Bobby continues. “Told her she was half right.”
Buck frowns. “Are you giving me another chance?”
“You’ve used all your chances; so have I,” Bobby says, “because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”
Bobby starts to walk away, but Buck isn’t letting him get away that easy.
“You're wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here,” Buck says, “and you know what? You were right to fire me.”
That makes Bobby stop dead in his tracks.
“I was a punk,” Buck continues, “still am one. But I'm a punk who understands what he lost. Just… needed you to know that.”
“I hope you mean that. Now go get dressed.”
Buck stands cluelessly for a second, then turns to you and Hen. “I think I’m not fired.”
“Your shift’s not over yet,” Hen points out.
You go to follow her, but Buck stops you by calling your name.
“I just wanted to tell you, uh…” Buck says, wringing his hands together. “I’m gonna prove you wrong.”
Normally, words like that coming out of his mouth would set your skin on fire. Between the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, though, something in your gut tells you to hear him out.
“Yeah?” You ask simply, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Some day, I’ll be good,” he says, “but until then, I’ll be better.”
Buck extends a hand for you to shake. It’s the most chivalrous thing you’ve seen him do since you met him. You look at his hand, then at his eyes. There isn’t a trace of humor in his gaze. You take his hand and shake it.
“I look forward to seeing it.”
Your first call of the shift is to an amusement park where one of the rides malfunctioned. A rider was thrown from the ride as it was moving, and it sounds like he’ll be DOA. When the operator deployed the emergency breaks, though, it meant the rest of the train stopped at the top of a loop, which one rider is now dangling out of.
Buck is the first to volunteer to climb the ladder and harness the passenger. You’re not surprised. He’s grown a lot in the last few weeks, but he still jumps at every exciting opportunity, no matter how dangerous it may be. Maybe that’s just how Buck is.
“Hey, he’s asking about his friend,” Buck radios once he’s at the top.
“Chimney, how’s the kid on the ground?” Bobby radios.
You look up and shake your head.
“We lost him,” Chim radios back.
“All right, I don't need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor... He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill,” Bobby instructs.
“Copy that,” Chim replies.
Once you and Chimney get him on the gurney and out of everyone’s sight, you look up at Buck.
“Come on,” Chimney mutters encouragingly. “Come on, Buck.”
After a painfully long minute, you see the man’s grasp on the rollercoaster falter. Then, you watch him let go. You close your eyes before you see him hit the ground, but the sound will echo off of your eardrums for a while.
You go the rest of the night without seeing Buck; you don’t share another call, and when you’re not out in the field, you’re asleep in the bunks. It’ll probably kill you in the long run, but these days, you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can.
When you wake up for morning report and breakfast, Buck is already sitting at the table. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and get a cup of coffee before sitting across from him.
Bobby was nice enough to make breakfast; he knows how hard these calls are. No matter how many you get, it’ll never get easier.
Bobby sets a plate in front of Buck.
“I’m not hungry,” he says almost instantaneously.
“This is America, Buckaroo,” Chim replies as he sets some silverware on the table. “Eating has nothing to do with being hungry.
“Man, I was right there. You know, all he had to do was reach up and grab my hand,” Buck says instead.
“People do funny things at times like that,” you offer, sipping your drink. “ Sometimes they just freeze up.”
“I’ve never lost anyone before,” Buck says quietly. He looks up at you. “Does it get any easier?”
Bobby answers for you. “No.”
“Look, people die, and that’s part of the gig, right?” Chim says as he sits next to you. “See, your problem is, you're looking at every job like it's a long-term relationship. They're one-night stands, man. In that moment, they mean everything to you, but once the morning comes... it's on to the next one.”
“How silly of me to think you’d say something productive,” you roll your eyes.
Chim furrows his brows. “What?”
“You’re such a man,” you say to Chim, then turn to Buck. “Look, dude, we all go through it, and you just have to figure out a way to deal with it,.” You pause. “You know why we wear these uniforms?”
“Sex appeal?” Chim answers, which earns him a quick kick to the shin from you.
“So people can easily identify us,” Buck responds.
“That’s true, but… I don’t know, I like to think it’s because when we take it off, we can leave it all behind us. Right now, you’re firefighter Buckley, but when your shift is over, you’re Buck. It just… symbolizes letting go, I guess.”
“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” Buck says. “Does that happen to you?”
“It’ll pass,” you promise.
“And if it doesn’t?”
You stare at Buck for a moment. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same man who mouthed off to a police Sergeant mere weeks ago.
“Then you talk someone,” you eventually say. “A friend, a therapist, a bartender… you find a way to let it out, and then you let it go.”
Once again, you don’t see Buck for hours. You heard on the scanner that the 118 responded to several rescue calls, none requiring an RA unit. You spent the rest of your shift bouncing from call to call and ER to ER, seeing everything from stab wounds to childbirth. It’s shifts like this that remind you why you do what you do. It’s chaotic, stressful, and bloody, but it is fun. After a certain point, you don’t even have to use your brain; the adrenaline in your veins kicks your brain into autopilot, and your pounding heart is just along for the ride.
You step into the communal locker room, completely exhausted. You still have to change, and considering everything you’ve witnessed, you should probably shower too. Most of all, you want to go home and crawl into your bed.
Buck is sitting on the bench in the locker room, similar to how he was a few weeks ago after he was ‘fired.’ Just like you, he’s still wearing his uniform. His head is bowed between his shoulders as his elbows rest on his knees. This time, his head doesn’t perk up when you open your locker.
“I heard you used The Manuever today,” you spark the conversation. “Nice save.”
Buck finally looks up and then chuckles quietly. “Yeah, if only I could’ve done that a few days ago.”
You take a seat next to him. “Still thinking about Devon, huh?”
“I’m trying not to, I just…” Buck says, then cuts himself off as he shakes his head.
“It’s easier said than done,” you conclude.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” you agree.
Both of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You open your mouth a few times only to close it. You don’t want to tell this story; you hate even thinking about it. But if you’re going to sit here and tell Buck that he has to let things go, you have to do the same. It’s only fair.
“The first person I lost… her name was Katherine Vanec. She was 17 years old, wearing a University of Washington shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. We got a call from her mother, who was at work when she started getting strange texts from Katherine. It was supposed to be a welfare check, and when the cops got there, they found her locked in her bedroom. When fire and rescue broke down the door, she had a .22 caliber revolver pressed to her temple.”
“Jesus,” Buck mutters.
“Katherine had a history of Borderline Personality Disorder and suicidal ideation. She figured out that her high school sweetheart had been cheating on her for almost a year. They made plans together, I guess — they were gonna go to the same school, find a place off-campus to live together. He pulled the rug right out from under her, and she couldn’t take it.”
“So what happened?”
You smile sadly. “By the time we arrived, a negotiator had been talking to her for almost ten minutes. They thought she was in a good spot that all she had to do was put the gun down, and we would swoop in and 5150 her.”
“Involuntary admission,” Buck says.
“Yeah,” you confirm. “That didn’t happen. When the negotiator asked her to set the gun down, she lost it. She kept talking about how every time before, she chickened out, and she couldn’t let that happen again. She turned the gun on us.”
“Suicide by cop.”
You nod as a few tears well in your eyes. Even all these years later, that case haunts you. “Her finger wasn’t near the trigger; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just didn’t want to be alive anymore, and she couldn’t think of another way out. I can still hear the sound of the bullets tearing through her.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Buck asks softly.
You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat. “Let it out and let it go,” you answer, then nudge his shoulder with yours. “Your turn.”
Buck smiles; the expression is bittersweet. “I keep replaying what happened. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else I could’ve done. Maybe I could have grabbed his arm, or maybe there’s something I could’ve said differently.”
“Or maybe, no matter what you did, it was always going to end that way,” you suggest quietly. “Maybe he felt the same way Katherine did—like he had no other way out. We can try to rescue people, but we can’t make them want to be alive. Some people just don’t want to be saved, Buck.”
“That really sucks.”
You laugh. “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why we have each other; it makes it suck a little less.”
“‘Each other’ as in you and me?” Buck asks in a lighthearted tone.
You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re thankful for the change of pace. “‘Each other’ as in the 118, which technically includes you and me.”
“Sounds like a copout.”
You laugh and clap a hand on Buck’s shoulder before standing. “Have a good night, Buck.”
You make it to the doorway before he says your name. You look back at him.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
You bite your lip, but it isn’t enough to conceal your smile. “Anytime.”
#911 abc#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#911 show#911 on abc#911 reader insert#evan buckley/reader#eddie diaz x reader#eddie diaz#eventual eddie diaz x evan buckley#evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader#Buddie x reader
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"I grew up- I've always been- Fuck."
Sol huffs and starts over. "Life has always been strange for me. Not just because of my," she gestures vaguely at her ears," condition, but in general." He takes a breath. "Socializing is hard. I don't get people. Growing up I spent a lot of time in nature. Classrooms were a little too loud and way too fucking bright. The kids couldn't keep their hands to themselves, and I didn't care to be polite about it. Who cares if I hurt their feelings, you know? Whenever lunch or recess would roll around, I'd wander off. Find myself ways away from campus, far from flickering lights and prying hands. Was like that 'til...middle school-ish?" She scrunches her nose, staring up at the ceiling, but continues. "The teachers put a stop to it, obviously. I don't blame them. They said I needed to 'connect with my peers'. I'd been doing alright academically, so I guess that's the only real issue they had with me. Luckily for them, I had the perfect plan. I thought-!" He inhales deeply, no use in getting worked up so early. "I thought, 'What better way to make friends than to show off this cool power?' The hearing wasn't so bad then. I could hear maybe...400 feet in each direction? Just a bit longer than a football field."
[Not that I knew that at the time.]
"It's practically nothing, compared to now. Still, more than enough to impress a couple people. Y funcionó. Casi demasiado bien." "There was this girl," [Jayla? Jaelin? Jaslyn?] "She was pretty, popular, outgoing, and a perfect target for my little 'social experiment'. Paired up with her for a project and told her I could hear anything she said from across the room, even if she whispered." Sol waves a hand around lazily. "She didn't believe me, of course. Not until we tested it. Then. Then it became public knowledge. Suddenly, everyone at school wanted to talk to the girl with 'super hearing'. It was tame, at first. People would whisper things from down the hall for me to hear. They'd go further and further, testing the limits of what I could do. We tried spying on the teachers a couple of times. We even got one fired! It was fun." He shrugs. "Of course, a few kids tried to mess with me. They intentionally made loud noises; I think they liked to see me jump. They learned their lesson pretty quick, though. Violence never scared me, and I defended myself just fine. That didn't bother me," she scowls, "No. The problems came once people realized they could use me for gossip." [In hindsight, it's obvious. They're middle schoolers. I don't know what I was expecting. Kindness? Ha.] "I didn't mind it at first. It felt great to be a part of something, and I can't say knowing everything wasn't exhilarating. My friends would ask me to eavesdrop on conversations and tell them what I heard. A lot of it was petty drama, failing 2-week relationships, and the like. It didn't matter to me, I'd successfully socialized like they'd asked me to, and that's all I needed. One day I listened in on the wrong conversation and told the wrong people. And, well. I went from the 'kid with the cool powers' to 'invasive' and a 'freak'." Sol laughs something bitter. "I still had 'friends', technically. They just...needed to use my powers- curse- whatever- whenever they wanted. It's the only way they'd keep me around. I was a tool first, and a friend second. Who cares if I'm sad or tired, or if every noise was too much and I couldn't breathe? Every little way I was different would be scrutinized if I didn't comply. I would be alone again. I'd disappoint them. I hated it. I hated it so much, Morgan. It wasn't even that bad but I-" Her voice started to rise ages ago. She doesn't care. "I just- I hate being treated like an object. I have feelings, opinions, and needs. I am a person. I may not be the smartest, or the nicest, or the prettiest, or the most functional. I may not even be a good one, Dios sabe que nunca lo seré, but- I am a fucking person just like everyone else. Hell! I don't even like people! But you can't just take that away from me. You can't."
The following silence is almost a relief.
Sol knocks harshly on the door.
"Morgan? Morgan, open up!"
He takes a deep breath. A futile attempt to calm her already fraying nerves.
" I can hear you. I know you're in there."
"Alright, alright. I'm coming, jeez."
Morgan grabs their shirt off the back of their chair and shoves it on. They stumble a little as they make it to the door.
They unlock the door, swinging it open. They raise a brow as they take in Sol's disheveled appearance.
His clothes are wrinkled, and the bottom of her jeans damp from coming through the grass. He's breathing heavily, as if he'd been walking for a while.
"The hell happened to you?"
Xe usher her in.
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I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn
#I think I'm getting about the same amount of spoilers as a few weeks ago except now I understand them#But like. I expected so much of him#Seeing gifs of that one scene in which Gojo gets distracted because of Geto almost made me watch this a year ago#Geto was actually my favourite character in that one JJK fanfic I read that I mention so often even if he had literally one scene#I know so much of the emotional turmoil and conflict in JJK and Gojo in particular depends on him#And you're telling me he's Thanos?#I learnt a few days ago that everything pretty much happens in one year. That there's one year between Geto's death and Gojo's#I thought it would be like ten years. Ten years of the act haunting him#But no? So it's not a broken teenager who has these ideas and is killed by another teenager to stop him?#It's a what? ~30yo man saying Light levels of stupidity? Even worse perhaps?#Goodness I hope this is not so. I hope this is better written than what I am seeing#Because goddammit I can't do it. It would kinda ruin every emotional scene from then on?#That one scene I was so looking forwards about patting Gojo's back or whatever. The one in which Gojo gets distracted. It just. I don't know#I won't be able to be moved if Geto doesn't work xD#I was fearing I wasn't going to like him a lot because my expectations were big but oh my god please not like this#This is way worse than I expected. Someone tell me he actually makes sense. What's the point of this whole political play#in which no one is fully wrong and no one is totally right otherwise? What is the point of the haunting. This feels just idiotic xD#And I don't care about the traumas and all that. That works for the teen not the ~30yo man#It would have worked if Gojo would have killed him like 1-2 years after everything not like a few months ago. Last winter#After like ten years a 30yo man should have realised this plan sucks.#Even if it's utilitarian. Who is going to make clothes? Buildings? Streets and railways? Bread??? Go have a talk with Nanami please#We have been told there are not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers. How are you going to fulfill all those needs out of nothing?#And even if it were little by little so the needs could be getting fulfilled little by little too#If you decimate humans won't that cause more curses? I guess he's thinking on the long run but still this plan seems like a mess#I hope it makes more sense than it's looking it will make because of my god this would truly be the last nail on the coffin xD#I am being more and more tempted to get to Utahime and then just drop this. This is breaking my heart xD#It could be soooo good and it always almost is#And then. AND THEN. Abfksbfndbfkan#Jen pick me up. Come solve this. I am scared xD#I talk too much
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Lads. I have a trial shift at this coffee shop on Monday and I think the weather is still going to be hot but idk if wearing shorts is acceptable at this workplace or not. Further details in tags
#my previous/most recent workplace was pretty relaxed in terms of uniform. you were encouraged to wear shorts or whatever you felt#comfortable in if it was hot. the only necessary uniform items were polo shirt & apron; they didn’t even get on my case if i forgot my name#badge. but this place?? i don’t know#i’ve gone back about a year on their social media and i can only find a few photos in which people are wearing shorts#and they’re ALL men. i see women wearing cutoff linen trousers but i don’t own any of those types of trousers#which makes me wonder if there’s some kind of unofficial standard that’s higher for women. or is it just because women get cold easier?#i DO NOT get cold easily. i can overheat in like. january#plus just general movement is harder for me atm because of my bad knee. i sweat from the exertion of just walking so the less clothes i can#wear in order to mitigate this; the better#i think either my birth control or my painkillers also make me sweat more than usual lol :(#i did see a review stating that they have air conditioning as of a month ago but who knows 1) where it is and 2) if it works#it’s probably just pointed directly at the customers and not behind the counter where i’ll be standing suffering among the equipment#i wish i’d taken the time to notice what was happening when i went in to interview. but it was a cold rainy day so wouldn’t have had much#bearing anyway. if I’M in long pants (and i was that day) you know all is fine#i just don’t know what to dooo. i mean i have long pants i can be relatively cool in but they’re festival pants with ridiculous patterns#on them and they’re also too big for me because i’ve lost weight & apparently gone down to a size 14 (!!) since i bought them#nothing says ‘i will be a great worker’ quite like my green festival pants with pink flowers on them falling down in the middle of the room#i was pondering leggings but when i wear just leggings and not a dress or anything with them i feel all exposed and nasty#even if i Know they’re not see through. i just can’t do it#my shorts are kind of long shorts and i also have ‘smart’ shorts but i don’t have anything like cargo pants or cutoffs or linen trousers#idk. i would message the hiring manager and ask about dress codes during the hot weather but she said it’s her annual leave#so she won’t even be there.. also i think she hates me & the only reason i’m anywhere close to a job offer#is that her lesbian second-in-command saw me wear croissant earrings to the interview and identified me as one of her own#i have no proof of this but i feel it’s true. anyway. i think i’m going to wear khaki green jeggings; bun my hair & try not to die#honestly my hair is usually the number one reason for me overheating lol. like the temptation to shave my head gets stronger every summer#OH MY GOD i just forgot my fucking trump card i cannot believe this!!!! my knee. my injured knee. that i often wear a brace on for pain#relief. see but the thing is; if i wear the brace will they become worried about my pain levels & therefore my ability to do the job?#i don’t wear the brace that much anymore. but if i wore it - INSTANT excuse to wear shorts. hmmmmmmmm#let me know what you think i should do lol. and help me pray for the heatwave to break#personal
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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Of Oblivious Minds (2)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning
a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡
Part 1, Part 3
~~
Sometimes you hated being a scholar.
There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position.
But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.
“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?”
Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs.
“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.”
You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun.
This morning had been rough.
You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.
“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light.
You squinted up at him. “Maybe.”
“Yeah, not happening.”
You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later.
It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple.
Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision.
“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.”
You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.”
At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his.
“You want to talk about it?” he questioned.
“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.”
Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life.
But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe.
You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.
The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize.
There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt.
“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?”
You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.”
Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.
“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.”
The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?”
You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself.
Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them.
“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.”
A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?”
“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.”
“Who’s seeing each other?”
The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand.
A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.”
“Who?” he asked again.
“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.”
The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.”
“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?
Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?”
“Honestly, maybe.”
“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.”
There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him.
But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu.
Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation.
“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low.
You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.”
Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.”
“I’m okay, Az. Really.”
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
Maybe before.
“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.”
A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was.
“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.”
“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave.
“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.
You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back.
“Have a good training session.”
You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed.
~~
“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?”
Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.”
“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.
“She didn’t think so.”
You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.
Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area.
“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?”
Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.”
“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.”
“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.”
You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights.
“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave.
“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.”
The book in your lap was all but obsolete.
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.”
“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.”
Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.
Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.
He would have told you.
Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?”
Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—”
You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve.
You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him.
Right?
The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing?
This made sense. It made sense.
Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain?
No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate.
Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were.
It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew.
Your fingernails dug into stone.
Azriel didn’t love you.
The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind.
You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours.
But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things.
You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin.
“Y/n?”
You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed.
You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for.
As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look.
Azriel was never supposed to be yours.
“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look.
To see how everything had changed.
“Let me fix it.”
You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then.
The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids.
Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.
Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you.
That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything.
Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel.
“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?”
Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts.
You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.”
“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out.
“I’m—’m tired.”
You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings.
This pain was immeasurable.
#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel angst#azriel fanfic
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Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.
No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.
Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.
They're the most infuriating bitches around.
They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.
They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.
You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.
In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.
#listen Bruce probably made it a training exercise#whoever can name the most heroes by the end of the week#(first and last)#gets bragging rights and a joy ride in the batmobile#batman#dc#bruce wayne#batfamily#clark kent#superman#justice league#robin#tim drake#dick grayson#nightwing#red robin#damian wayne#spoiler#stephanie brown#duke thomas#signal
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Nothing Worth Saying Aloud
Logan Howlett x fem reader
A/N: This one is short n' sweet! Inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove which I had first heard because I read this one shot that used that song as inspiration! Theirs is much better I'll be real but I had this festering in my brain for too long every time I'd play that song on repeat
Summary: Misunderstanding and miscommunication makes for a terrible combination that leaves you feeling like you've had your heart ripped from your chest
Warnings: Angsty as all hell, a lil' bit of fluff at the end, that's really it!
Word Count: 2K
𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་
You’d gone through a couple break ups in your life, a handful of failed situation-ships that ended awkwardly - even a long term relationship or two - but all the heartbreak you’d experienced couldn’t compare to the chest-crushing agony you experienced now.
The terrible moment of facing the music; accepting what couldn’t be, even if you wanted it more than anything.
Logan was not into you and he was never going to be.
You had to confront that when you’d gone down the stairs of the mansion one night to get a glass of water, almost certain you were the only person awake. That was until you’d stopped short in the hallway, seeing Logan and Jean standing with their backs to you. You couldn’t hear their conversation and didn’t think anything of it until you watched his arm snake around her shoulders, pulling her into him for a hug.
Your stomach sank. You really should have known.
The way he talks to her, looks at her, is always there to help her; it must have been obvious to anyone but you. You’d been friends for so long that you were almost dumbfounded that you never realized, probably too blinded by your own rose colored glasses.
You turned on your heel immediately, climbing the stairs to hide in your bedroom. Your chest felt heavy and your skin felt like it was on fire. You never ended up sleeping that night, too sick to think of anything else but Jean and Logan.
That was maybe two weeks ago now and you’d avoided Logan every day since as best you could. You’d gone from being nearly inseparable to speaking only when you had to. He’d try his best to get you to talk to him about anything at all but you only gave him one word answers. He even tried to keep you after training one day, gently having a hold on your bicep.
“Hey, what’s going on with you?” He asked bluntly. He tried to look you in the eyes but they were nearly glued to the metal floor of the basement corridor, your hair falling in your face.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Logan, really,” you were able to mutter out, somehow keeping your voice from cracking. Before he could interrogate you further, you shrugged yourself out of his soft grip and speed-walked to the elevator, tears flowing the second you turned away from him.
You were not fine. Your eyes were always red and puffy from crying yourself to sleep and everyone could tell something was off.
Ororo even stopped you in the hallway outside your bedroom one night, begging you to tell her what was wrong and what she could do to help.
“It’s nothing, I - “ you had started to dismiss her, but she was having none of it.
“Stop with that! Enough! You need to tell me what’s up or I’m gonna have to force it out of you somehow and you know I do not wanna do that. Now tell me.”
You sighed, never picking your gaze up from the floor.
“Come here, I don’t want anyone to hear me,” you beckoned her into your room.
She sat by your side at the edge of the bed as you confessed what you had seen and how badly it had torn you apart, rubbing your back gently when you choked out a sob.
“Honey,” she cooed, pushing some hair from your face and wiping a tear away, “I think you need to talk to him. This is gonna eat you up inside if you don’t and I think maybe it could’ve been a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t know, ‘ro. I can’t even look at him without feeling like I’m gonna burst into tears,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with the collar of your t-shirt.
“Think about it. I can’t tell you what to do, but I think you really should. And if it was what it looked like, sweetheart, this is not the end of the world,” she reminded you.
“It sure does feel like it,” you joked, tears still rolling down your cheeks.
“I know,” she sighed, patting your back gently, “talk to him.”
You nodded and she left the room, reminding you to come find her if you needed anything at all.
You thought her words over and ultimately still hid in your room the next day, skipping training to rot in bed in sweatpants and a tank top. The thought of having to confess to Logan that you were really in love with him was far too paralyzing. It almost made you sick If you thought about it too long.
You knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep shuffling sad songs on repeat and yet you did, keeping your CD player at a low volume so you wouldn’t bother anyone and they wouldn’t bother you. Your hair was a mess and you were glad that at the very least, you’d had enough energy to shower that morning after three days of not doing so. You held your knees to your chest while laying on your side, burying your face into your pillow to muffle your wailing sobs.
Logan was downstairs at the same time, making his way towards the stairs, only to run into Scott.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Logan spoke, stopping him with a hand on his upper arm.
Even through Scott’s glasses, Logan could tell he was glaring suspiciously.
“About what? Why?”
Logan said your name, looking around to be sure they were alone in the hallway.
Scott’s expression softened and he leaned against the wall, waiting for him to explain.
“Do you know what’s up with her? She won’t talk to me, she hasn’t in two weeks. She won’t even look at me. Has she said anything to you?” Logan spewed out, rubbing the back of his neck as a nervous tic.
“No, your girlfriend didn’t mention anything,” he teased, shaking his head, “but hey, just talk to her. You’ve been close for a while now, you just have to confront her.”
“She’s not my - okay, whatever. Yeah, I’m gonna go talk to her. Maybe she’s in her room,” Logan sighed.
“She’s always in her room lately. If there’s anyone that can pull her out of it, it would be you.”
He quickly thanked Scott and finally reached the stairs. He had been walking through the hall, finding your bedroom door and stopping when he heard a noise he couldn’t quite make out. He heard you sniffle and his heart dropped.
You were crying.
He tried to give you your space, work through whatever it was that was bothering you, but it broke him to see you the way you were and his prodding didn’t seem to help. Still, he didn’t know how much longer he could let you dodge him in the halls or live with the fact that you wouldn’t even look at him anymore. He had planned to talk to you that day, but you rarely came out of your room now.
So, he laid a hand on your doorknob, turning it slowly. He would’ve knocked - he always did - but every time he had recently, you laid silent and pretended not to be in the room. He always knew you were, recognizing the smell of your perfume behind the door.
The door cracked open a few inches and he saw you, curled in a ball in your bed with your face in your pillow. Your shoulders moved up and down as you sobbed, gripping the pillow so hard that your knuckles turned white.
There’s no way Logan could leave you like this. He slid into the room and closed the door gently, but you could hear the click of the knob over your music.
Your head shot up and you saw Logan standing with his back to your door, an almost devastated look on his face.
“Oh god, Logan, please, don’t - “ you choked out, turning your face so he couldn’t see you and waving him away. Out of everyone you wanted to see right now, he was at the bottom of the list because this was humiliating.
He’d seen your bloodshot eyes and pink nose, your cheeks wet with tears. There was no way you could tell him you weren’t crying.
“You have to talk to me. Please, what did I do?”
The last thing you wanted was for him to think it was all his fault. It wasn’t, really. He didn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose; He couldn’t have known it would upset you in the slightest or that you were even in the hallway that night.
“Nothing, Logan, please, just go away - “ you begged, still facing away with your face buried in your hands.
“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly, “you won’t even look at me. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry. Whatever it is, I’ll make it up to you.”
You still had your face buried in your hands when you felt the bed dip as he came to sit beside you.
“I miss you, you know. You won’t train with me anymore, you won’t come out with me, you won't talk to me. Please, I don’t know what to apologize for if you don’t tell me.”
His voice so close to you made your heart ache. You wanted to just hug him, tell him you missed him too, but you sat paralyzed. He really wasn’t going anywhere until you said something.
You removed your hands from your face, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. You took a long inhale, closing your eyes and trying not to let your voice crack.
“It’s nothing worth me saying aloud,” you muttered, gnawing on your bottom lip. You felt like you needed to, though - like a lump in your throat that you couldn’t cough up.
“Please,” Logan’s voice was quiet, his hand arm coming to rest around your waist.
You squeezed your eyes shut and scrunched your face in an attempt not to cry even harder when he touched you. You had wanted him to for so long, but not like this.
You inhaled sharply, standing up as you did so to pace around your room. You couldn’t sit still with his hand on you.
“I - “, you tried to speak, the words getting lodged in your throat, “ it’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you, it’s not that.”
“Then, what? Tell me. You know I’d do anything to help.”
He would, and that’s what made it all hurt so much worse; how sweet he could be to you. You reminded yourself that he was also probably like that with Jean and you shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the thought.
“It’s so stupid, Logan, really - “
“Pretty girl, it’s not stupid if it’s making you cry.”
Pretty girl. He probably called her that too.
Fuck, you couldn’t get it out of your head no matter how bad you wished you could.
“Ugh,” you groaned, leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling. Maybe it would be easier to spit it out when you weren’t looking at him. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to get it all out in one go.
“A couple weeks ago, I went downstairs in the middle of the night and I saw you and Jean.”
You couldn’t see his expression, but Logan’s eyebrows were furrowed, completely lost on what exactly it was that you saw.
“And it’s so fucking stupid, I know, but I - “, you choked back a sob, “fuck. Logan, I love you. I’m sorry. I’m in love with you, I don’t know how to handle it, not when I know nothings ever gonna happen.”
When you didn’t hear a response, you dreaded the moment you finally tore your eyes from your ceiling. Logan was still in the same spot at the edge of the bed, a dumbfounded expression on his face.
“Sweet heart - “, he began, but it only hurt you more to hear him call you stuff like that.
“Logan, please, I know, just - I don’t want it to be a big deal and you don’t have to give me the rejection speech, trust me.”
“Are you gonna let me explain?” His tone was mildly frustrated, though he was still clearly worried about you.
You sighed, hands on your hips as you stood almost completely across the room. He got up to meet you where you were. He wanted to put his hands on your shoulders but he could tell you didn’t want to be touched.
“Explain what?” You muttered, gaze glued to the floor when he stood in front of you.
“There’s nothing going on between Jean and I.”
Seeing that your expression never changed, he continued.
“I think I know what you saw. I hugged Jean, that’s what you’re talking about, right?”
You swallowed hard, dreading any details he wanted to spill. You still didn’t believe that there was nothing, convinced he was lying to save your feelings. You nodded anyway, still looking at the floor.
“I gave Jean a hug because her and Scott got into a fight. She said she fucked up and wanted my advice, I hugged her and that was all. Honey, I’m telling you, nothings going on.”
You were nearly turning pink at the realization that he was being truthful.
“And another thing,” he began again, tentatively pulling your hands from your hips so he could hold them in his, “you think I don’t love you?”
You finally met his gaze then and his heart broke when he saw your watery eyes. He brought a hand up to wipe your tears, leaving it there to cup your face while his other still held your hand.
“I love you. I’m in love with you, too. I don’t feel that way about Jean at all. I thought it was obvious, but I guess neither of us have the greatest communication skills, huh?” He laughed a little, nervously waiting for you to finally say something.
You were still soaking in his words, first about Jean and then about you.
“Really?” You squeaked, unable to say anything more.
“Really, baby,” he said sweetly, continuing to wipe away your tears.
You sniffled and leaned into his touch, happy to just be near him again.
“I missed you too, you know. I miss everything about you. I just couldn’t look at you when I thought - I don’t know, when I thought you couldn’t love me like that. Oh god, I’m so stupid, Logan, I’m so sorry - “ you began to apologize and he cut you off, shaking his head.
“None of that, c’mere,” he pulled you into him gently, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to hug you.
You smiled into his t-shirt. You missed the smell of his cologne, the warmth of him, the way he called you sweet names. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, standing on your toes to do so.
“I love you, Princess. I’m so glad I get to say it,” he mumbled into your hair, neither one of you letting go of the other, “and I’m a dumbass for not saying something sooner and letting you think all that.”
“No, I’m a dumbass because I should’ve said something sooner instead of assuming. I was just terrified, I guess.”
“No more being terrified, right?” He pulled away a little to look in your eyes.
You nodded, a smile on your face for the first time in weeks. You both stood there in the middle of your bedroom, frozen in an embrace with your eyes locked on each other.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his hand rubbing up and down your back reassuringly, “you can say no if it’s too soon -“
You leaned up to press your lips to his, not wanting to waste any more time than you already have. He kind of grunted in surprise, relaxing into your touch when you ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his head. It was better than you could have ever imagined. His lips were so soft and he was so gentle with how he held you that your knees could’ve buckled. He pulled away reluctantly after a few seconds, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“I didn’t wanna ruin anything,” he explained, tucking your hair behind your ear, “you know, just being with you. I would’ve swallowed it all down to be just your friend if it meant I wouldn't lose you.”
You brought both of your hands to cup his face, scratching lightly at his mutton chops, “Really?”
He nodded, kissing your forehead, your cheek and your lips again. It was sickeningly sweet, making you giggle into the kiss.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothin’. Just really happy.”
“Me too, pretty girl. Hey, you owe me a couple of movie nights, by the way.”
“Race you to the TV?”
𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་
A/N: ik this ones pretty short but it was rotting in my google docs so here u go <3 pls like and reblog if you enjoyed!
#logan howlett#logan howlett fic#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut
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Accidentally Courting an Eel Ⅱ
author note: part 2 part 2!! You guys seemed to really love this and that makes me so happy! I’ll admit, I really, really enjoyed writing part 2, and that’s probably why it turned out longer than the first part x-x less cameos this time, but lots of Jade and this time its Azul being the only voice of reason. Hope you enjoy!!
characters: Floyd Leech x F!Reader
“Ne… Do you think Y/N likes me?”
The VIP room was quiet apart from the scratching of Azul’s pen and the soft clinking of teacups as Jade prepared a pot of black tea. Floyd laid back on one of the plush VIP room couches, his legs hanging over the arm as he dangled his earring in front of his face, gazing at it as it swayed gently. Azul’s pen didn’t stop, continuing to scrawl across the documents in front of him, whilst a ghost of a smile played on Jade’s lips as he brewed the tea leaves to perfection.
“You two had a fight not even a week ago, why would you think she likes you?” Azul queried, a small frown marring his features, but he did not take his eyes off the documents he was labouring over. Floyd’s hand closed around his earring, and he rolled over, his chin resting against the couch arm as he looked over at Azul, a pout beginning to form on his lips.
“But she bit me.” Floyd pointed out and Azul raised an eyebrow, finally looking up from his documents. “But she isn’t a merfolk, Floyd. She wouldn’t have any idea what that might mean.” Azul countered, sighing at the ridiculousness of this conversation. Floyd’s face fell, his lips turning downward slightly at the corner at Azul’s words. Jade noticed this, elegantly making his way over to Azul’s desk and setting a teacup down with a flourish. “But she still bit him. Such actions carry connotations, bold ones at that. Of course Floyd would feel a certain… Way.” Jade stated, folding his hands in front of him as he stood beside Azul’s desk. Azul’s pen dropped onto the desk with a clatter, and he looked up at Jade incredulously, “are you serious?!”
“And she so kindly repaired Floyd’s earring, without us having to persuade her to do so or claim fair compensation. She looked so pleased with herself too. And I need not remind you just how important gifting jewellery is to merfolk?” Jade smiled serenely, ever happy to be stirring the pot whilst Azul shot him a dirty look.
Floyd’s legs kicked restlessly behind him, his face blank for a few moments before a wide grin spread across his face, sharp teeth glinting as he jumped up off of the couch, a short wild laugh leaving his lips before he dashed out of the VIP room with a spring in his step. Azul sighed as the VIP room door slammed shut, convinced that he was going to have to replace it one of these days due to Floyd’s recklessness, and Jade let out a muffled chuckle that he hid behind his hand.
“Why did you do that?” Azul huffed, picking up his pen and getting back to work, the sound of pen on paper once again filling the room.
“Whatever do you mean?” Jade responded innocently, his composed smile never budging despite the sly glint in his eyes.
“If it ends in tears, I don’t want to hear a peep about it. And this better not disturb business at the Lounge, otherwise you will be the one picking up the overtime.” Azul warned, and Jade’s smile lifted, his teeth starting to peek through.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Life had mostly gone back to normal after your fight with Floyd.
You were finally free of what seemed like the never-ending punishment from Crewel. As expected, Floyd was nowhere to be seen during your three-day stint in the botanical garden, tending to the regrowth of the ingredients that had gotten caught in the crossfire of your and Floyd’s dispute. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, with you mostly watering the plants, your biggest obstacle having to move housewarden Kingscholar from his napping spot so you could water the plants there (nothing a discreet threat with the watering hose couldn’t fix).
You had also finally submitted your potionology assignment, your partner generously distilling another vial of ginger root so that you could brew the energy boosting potion and not suffer any more of Crewel’s wrath for submitting a late assignment. Considering how insistent that your lab partner was about replacing the ginger root, you can only imagine it was a result of him seeing you taking on Floyd Leech without even batting an eyelid.
Either way, things had all sorted themselves out and your day-to-day school life fell back into place like normal. Well, apart from one difference. Floyd Leech.
He was bothering you. Every day. Without. Fail.
At first, he began randomly attacking you. But there was none of the vicious aggression that usually accompanied a fight, it was more like… Excitable and rough play fighting. And he bites too, incessantly, your arms and hands often littered in his very distinct teeth marks. He’d pop out of nowhere and some days, it was just about all you could do to fend him off, being how you were trying to lay low in order to keep your head, lest housewarden Riddle finally get sick of you and cut you down to size. Floyd seemed to delight in when he managed to make you jump, or when you smacked him with your textbooks in an attempt to ward him away. To make things more odd, after you’d got into a small altercation with another student, Floyd had sought you out that same afternoon. You don’t even know how he had even heard about the incident, having not been a physical one which was diffused rather quickly. With a surprisingly pouty expression, he’d gripped you by the shoulders, not budging an inch even as you tried your best to detach him.
“Ne, don’t go bitin’ other guys, okay?”
Floyd’s random offensives lasted every day for about a week before he began to change tact.
Soon, you’d notice things going missing. Not anything important, but enough to be small, irritating inconveniences. For example, you’d reach into your stationery case for a pencil to find it missing, only to find it tucked behind Floyd’s ear casually as he strolled down the corridor. On one particularly troublesome occasion, Floyd brazenly slipped his hand into your pocket and took your phone, pouting on discovery that it was locked via face ID and yet still managing to somehow line up your phone screen perfectly to get it to unlock. He cackled as he held it out of reach, not reacting no matter how much you stomped on his shoes and tugged at his arms. You were one step away from climbing him like the bean pole he resembles when he finally gave it back, grinning like a Cheshire cat. You didn’t find out until later when a message from a “Moryay!” popped up with the most ridiculous meme and string of emojis did you realise that Floyd had added his number to your phone and made you follow him on all his social media accounts.
After that, you changed your phone lock to passcode only.
But perhaps the most bizarre moment that came out of Floyd’s sudden obsession with you was the nickname he had dubbed you.
“P-pea?!” You spluttered, looking at Floyd with a mix of shock and disbelief.
Floyd gave you his typical toothy grin, leaning forward with his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, pea puffer,” Floyd drawled, looking absolutely delighted with himself, “Y’know, pea puffers are real tiny. They look all cute and unassuming, but they are real aggressive and fight other fish all the time, just like you.” You gaped at this comparison, and that only seemed to please him more, remarking how you really looked like a fish now.
“I’d rather you went back to calling me guppy. Please.” You complained, a hand resting on your hip as you looked upon Floyd, unimpressed.
“No way, pea puffer. You’re much more special than the rest of these lil guppies.”
It had been weeks, but Floyd was still seeking you out non-stop. Your friends, whilst sympathetic, had begun to avoid you by proxy, trying not to get caught in the crossfire. You were at a loss about why he was so obsessed with you lately, or about what you could do to get him off your back.
“Well, that’s just Floyd Leech,” your friend responded with a shrug as you vented to her on your walk between classes, “if someone interests him, he’ll be all over them. But as soon as he finds them boring, he drops them as quick as he picked them up. That’s just how he is. Although I’ve never seen him bite people like that before.” Your friend commented, eyes briefly glancing down at your bare wrist. You grumbled and quickly rolled down your blazer sleeves, concealing the unique pinprick bite marks. Your friend shrugged again, as if that was the be all and end all of the situation. “What? So I’m just supposed to wait until he finds someone else on campus interesting enough for him to bother?” You huffed in exasperation, and your friend shot you a sympathetic side eye. “Well, I think the best thing you can do if lay low for a little while. Well…” A small smile curved your friends lips up, “as low as you can manage, I guess.” You shot her a half-hearted glare and she laughed, “the point is, if Floyd doesn’t see you for a while, maybe he’ll move on and start terrorising someone else.” The two of you entered the history of magic classroom and took your seats, and there was nothing like an incredibly slow, boring history class to ponder what your friend said and what you should do next, and if it was even possible for you to lay low enough to avoid Floyd for that long.
Having carefully formulated your plan under professor Trein’s nose, you sprung Operation Avoid The Leech into action. In the mornings, you would hurry to your classes, keeping your head down and under the cover of the bustling student body. At lunch, you’d rush to the cafeteria, pick up whatever sandwich was closest you could grab and then you’d dash out of there, eating your lunch in a discreet spot. After afternoon classes, you went straight back to your dorm with no detours, holing yourself up in your room. You managed to tell your club president a convincing enough excuse as to why you would not be attending club activities for the foreseeable future, internally thanking your scrappy reputation for making whatever punishment your club president thought you had gotten yourself into now so much more believable.
Your new routine had some unexpected benefits, with housewarden Riddle often praising your new behaviour, believing that you had turned over a new leaf and you were starting out on your journey to become one of Heartslabyul’s model students. But there was a very specific downside to your new no frills routine.
You were so, so bored.
The irony wasn’t lost on you that whilst you were waiting for Floyd to get bored of you, you were the one who was hopelessly bored, moping around in your room most of the time. There was only so far studying could take you, and looking through your social media only made you feel worse, seeing all of your friend’s stories and posts of how they were spending their precious freedom just making you feel more miserable. You huffed a huge sigh as you threw yourself down on your bed, hugging one of your pillows as you stared aimlessly at the ceiling. Hopefully, just a few more weeks to go…
Floyd huffed a sigh, slumped across the Mostro Lounge bar, head in his arms as he stared aimlessly gleaming, polished surface of the counter. Jade stood behind the bar, diligently polished glasses as he stared at his twin with a knowing smile. Service at the Mostro Lounge had ended an hour ago, with Azul holing himself up in the VIP room to pour over the day’s sales figures, giving Floyd the perfect opportunity to mope.
“Is something the matter, Floyd? You’re rather sullen today.” Jade commented, knowing full well what the problem was but decided to prod his brother regardless, curious as to what reaction it would elicit. Floyd remained silent, his finger tracing mindless shapes against the countertop. The lounge was silent apart from the occasional clink as Jade set back a perfectly polished glass and began work on the next. Finally, Floyd spoke up.
“Pea puffer is avoiding me…” Floyd mumbled, not raising his eyes up from the counter. Jade’s head tilted slightly in interest, yet he still didn’t stop polishing the glass in his hand. “Pea puffer?” Jade questioned, his curiosity even further piqued, “You mean the small, combative— Ahh.” An amused smile lifted up Jade’s lips at this new piece of information. So Floyd had upgraded you from the sea of guppies to a personal nickname, quite the honour.
“What makes you believe Y/N is avoiding you?” Jade asked, placing the glass he was polishing on the counter and folding his hands neatly on the counter, focusing his full attention on Floyd now. Slowly, Floyd sat up from the counter, resting his chin on his fist as he continued to sulk. “I haven’t seen her in weeks. She’s never in the cafeteria at lunch, I even went to her club but she wasn’t there either. The club prez said she told him she couldn’t attend for a while…”
“I see...” Jade hummed as he mulled this information over, “have you been to the Heartslabyul dorm to check on her?” Floyd’s pout turned into a frown, his mood starting to turn. “Goldfishie banned me from stepping foot in Heartslabyul after the last time.” Jade’s lips turned upwards as he remembered the last time, but he soon turned his mind back to the problem at hand. “I see. This is quite the mystery.”
Floyd didn’t respond, instead staring dejectedly at the glass in front of him. “… I thought she liked me,” Floyd finally broke the silence, “she was the one who started courting me… She bit me, and she fixed my earring!” Frustration began to seep into Floyd’s voice, his eyes narrowing on the glass, “y’know, she was even opening her mouth a lot recently, real wide. Sure, she sometimes covered it with her hand, but…” Floyd’s voice trailed off and he fell back into gazing dejectedly at the glass, until a slender hand reached out and plucked it from the table, back to being polished in Jade’s careful hands.
“Hmm… Perhaps it is time that you let Y/N know that you are courting her back?” Jade mused, and Floyd huffed, his hand falling down onto the counter with a dull thud. “I have! I bit her back! I leave ‘em all up her arms, so she knows how into her I am. And I take her stuff and wear it, so all the other guppies know, y’know?” Floyd reasoned, and Jade nodded slowly, the glass clinking as he slides it back into its place, beautifully gleaming. “I know, but I fear Azul may have been right. Perhaps she does not know.” Jade countered, and Floyd looked up at his twin then, waiting for him to continue. “It seems that land dwellers have more… Fragile courting customs than us merfolk do. It may help to be more direct.” Jade concluded, carefully watching his twin to gauge his reaction to this idea. Floyd stared blankly at Jade, and Jade knew his twin enough to know a dark cloud was starting to form over Floyd’s mood again. On cue, Floyd slumped against the counter again, a whine of annoyance slipping past his lips. “Human customs are annoying,” Floyd continued to whine, burying his face into his arm, “how am I supposed to tell her if she keeps avoiding me?”
Jade looked down at his brother, finding himself a little amused by his uncharacteristically lovesick behaviour. In all the years they had been together, he had never seen Floyd act this way over someone before. How curious. “It’s quite simple, Floyd. You simply need to lure her out.” A cunning smile spread across Jade’s lips, and Floyd perked up slightly, once again turning his attention back to his brother. “I have a plan…” Jade affirmed, leaning forwards and beginning to conspire with his dispirited twin…
It had been two weeks since you had begun Operation Avoid The Leech and to put it bluntly, it was the most boring two weeks of your life. But things were finally starting to look up. Your friends had begun to report to you that Floyd seemed to have calmed down a lot this past week, no longer constantly peppering them with questions about your whereabouts or attempting to hunt you down during breaks or after class. And yesterday, to add the final cherry on top, you received news that a random Scarabia student had caught Floyd’s interest, and he had apparently been chasing them around instead. You were still feeling a little cautious, wondering if you should leave it a few more days before deciding it was safe enough to venture out again. You were on the fence about what to do, but then a friend sent you a message, asking if you wanted to go to a trendy new café that had opened in town. With her assurance that she hadn’t seen Floyd at all that day, and it was very doubtful that you’d run into him in town. Persuaded that everything was fine, and you were finally off the hook, you eagerly agreed to meet her by the clocktower after class.
Classes flew by, and before you knew it you were waiting at the clocktower for your friend to arrive. Your mood was sky high and it was a beautiful day, you couldn’t think of a better day to go into town and celebrate your new freedom. You leaned against one of the pillars, scrolling aimlessly through your social media as you waited for your friend to show. You found yourself getting distracted, doom scrolling through videos on Magicam, and when you finally noticed the time, it was ten minutes after your friend was supposed to meet you. You frowned down at your phone, seeing no messages to say that she was running late. You looked up from your phone, confusion etched on your face as you looked around the courtyard that enclosed the clocktower, wondering if she had somehow missed you. In fact, you were about to message her to check that everything was alright, when you saw a flash of teal walking down the path towards main street. You felt a surge of dread when the figure turned to lock eyes with you and offer his signature insincere smile.
Jade Leech.
Suddenly it all clicked into place.
“Oh fuck.” You muttered to yourself, and you swear you could see Jade’s sharp teeth poking out from under his lips. At that moment, your phone pinged in your hand and a message from your friend popped up, and your feeling of dread only intensified as you read the pop-up notification.
‘I’m so sorry’ was what your friend had sent to you, but you hardly had a chance to dwell on it when you heard the familiar laugh that sent a chill down your spine. Without a second thought, you bolted.
You could hear Floyd Leech’s maniacal laughter behind you as ran around the clocktower, ducking for cover as you internally spat every curse word you knew, trying to figure out what your next move would be. Floyd’s laughter died down into silence, but you weren’t stupid enough to believe that he’d left, pressing yourself against the clocktower and peeking around the corner. The coast seemed to be clear, but now you had to weigh up whether you could outrun Floyd. The outlook was looking dismal. A small body of water cut off one side, but you wondered if you could maybe duck through the trees near Sam’s shop and make a run for the hall of mirrors. The hall of mirrors wasn’t that far from the clocktower, but that all relied on Floyd not chasing after you. You peaked around the corner again, still not seeing Floyd, and you were about to make a break for it when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow loom over you. Before you could react, Floyd slammed his hand down just above your head, surprising you enough for you to let out a yelp of surprise as he boxed you in against the clocktower with a wide toothed smile and an excited glow in his eyes.
“Found you.”
Floyd leaned his arm against the clocktower, leaning over you as he continued to grin down at you, looking incredibly proud of himself. You looked up at him in disbelief, not much room for you to move with your back pressed against the clocktower and Floyd looming in front of you, effectively crowding you in between his arms. It was rare that you found yourself speechless, your mind spinning as you tried to figure out exactly what you could do in this situation, if at all anything. So instead of overthinking it, you did what you do best.
You attacked.
“Floyd Leech! What did you do to my friend?!” You hissed at him, puncturing every word with a swing of your bag into his stomach. Floyd grunted as the first swing hit him, but then he laughed, letting you hit him a couple of times before he grabbed your bag mid swing, stopping your assault. “I didn’t do anything to your little friend, pea puffer.” Floyd drawled, looking amused when you shot him an indignant look back at him.
“Then why isn’t she here? Are you bullying my friends?” You retorted, trying to tug your bag out of his grip so you could whack him again, but his hand didn’t even budge, like his grip was made of iron. Annoying. Instead, he decided to yank your bag himself, catching you by surprise and making you tumble into his chest. “I ain’t bullyin’ your friends, little pea puffer,” Floyd whispered into your ear, “ain’t it obvious? Your friend sold you out.”
You let out a disgruntled sound as you pushed Floyd, taking a step back and glaring at him. Floyd retained your bag, looping it over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Ya see, your friend owed Azul a favour, an’ me and Jade decided we could help her out… If she helped us out.” His tongue poked out of his mouth as he grinned down at you, “you’re too trustin’, pea puffer, it’s cute.” You folded your arms over your chest, glaring at him. You were about to open your mouth to retaliate, but before you could, Floyd suddenly lunged forward and lifted you into his arms, marching off with you without a word, if you didn’t count his trademark giggle.
“Floyd! Put me down!” You shouted, pushing at his shoulders, your legs flailing in protest. Floyd didn’t respond as he walked around the clocktower, and you twisted, trying to get out of his grip. “Stop squirming, pea puffer. You’ll make me drop you.” Floyd complained, even if his grip around your waist didn’t budge an inch as he held you. “Alley-oop!” Floyd cried joyfully as he launched his long leg out, kicking open the door leading into the clocktower with a deafening slam. “Floyd! The clocktower is off limits, are you trying to get us another detention?” You snapped, your eyes wide with alarm. “Relax, pea puffer. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Floyd drawled casually, and you huffed. “Easy for you to say, you didn’t even turn up to our last detention!”
Floyd turned his head and grinned at you, and you had to lean back, not realising how close together your faces were. “Then I’ll come to the next one. Now hold on tight!” Floyd grinned, all sharp teeth and mischief, and you barely had a chance to process his words and why you’d need to hold on before he started dashing up the clocktower stairs. You were unable to fight the undignified squeak that ripped past your lips as you clung onto Floyd like your life depended on it, his laughter echoing off of the high walls of the clocktower as he bounded up the stairs. You thought it would never end, but finally a room opened up and Floyd ducked into it, finally setting you back on your feet. “Ta-da~!” Floyd announced, swinging his arms out. The room was small, small enough that Floyd couldn’t even stand at his full height, lest he bump his head on the low ceiling. The true centrepiece of the room was the curved window that looked out onto main street, and you could see all the way to the sports field. A ledge sat below the window, and Floyd took no time to make himself comfortable on it, waving you over.
“Isn’t it cool, pea puffer? I like to come here sometimes, when I just wanna chill without anyone harshin’ my vibe.” Floyd grinned, setting your bag on the ledge and to your surprise, he opened it up and started rifling through it. “Hey!” You scolded, rushing over to stop him as he began to rifle up through your stationery case. “Ne, don’t you have anything fun I can have?” Floyd asked as he pulled one of your pens out, not seeming at all phased when you slapped at his hands, trying to get him out of your things. “If you want something fun, get your own!” You huffed, pulling your stationery case and bag out of his hand and shoving it behind you, out of his reach. You tried to reach for the pen, but he held it out of your reach, his previous sunny expression falling into a pout. “That’s not the point, pea puffer. It has to be something of yours.” Floyd complained and you raised an eyebrow at him, completely lost as to his reasoning behind this.
Floyd’s expression went blank as he stared at you, and if felt like the two of you were locked in a staring contest for hours before he finally decided to speak again. “Ne, you just don’t get it, do you pea puffer?” Floyd asked, his eyebrows drawing down slightly as he continued to stare at you. You suddenly felt like you were under a microscope, shifting uncomfortably on the ledge. “What’s there to get?” You remarked, although you had the odd feeling that you should tread carefully, considering how uncharacteristically serious his face looked, “aren’t you just messing with me because you’re bored?”
Floyd pulled a face at your words. “Jade was right. You really don’t know.” Floyd huffed, before leaning forward and grabbing hold of your wrist, rolling your blazer sleeve up to your elbow with unexpected gentleness, revealing your bare arm. The bite marks Floyd had made had mostly faded by now, and he pulled another face, unhappy with this but pushing on with the conversation anyway. “You bit me, so I bit you.” Floyd stated, looking at your face and seeming to study it for your reaction. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t baffled. “Yeah… So?” You responded, and Floyd’s brow downturned just a little bit more at that.
“And you fixed my earring.”
“Yes…?”
You could see Floyd’s teeth clench together, an annoyed breath huffing out of his nose as he dropped your wrist, raising that hand to grip at his shoulder. He stared at you, brow furrowed and you were truly at a loss for what you had done wrong. You could only stare back at him, eyebrows raised as you waited for him to divulge what exactly you didn’t get.
“Those are all merfolk mating customs.” Floyd finally said flatly, and you felt yourself freeze.
“… Excuse me?” You managed to squeak out, not even feeling embarrassed about how your voice sounded as you stared at Floyd in disbelief. Floyd continued to study your expression; his lips pressed together in a firm line.
“Listen up, pea puffer. You bit me in the potions lab, and that made me think you liked me. Merfolk bite each other when they’re interested, y’know? And when I was mullin’ it over, you came runnin’ after me, holdin’ out my earring that you’d fixed with that pretty smile on your face. You were very persistent in letting me know you were interested.” Floyd explained, looking at you pointedly.
“Wait, wait, wait!” You spluttered, “what does giving your earring back prove? And I bit you when we were fighting!” Floyd just shook his head, letting his hand drop into his lap. “Giving jewellery is like, the top merfolk courting custom,” Floyd said with a shrug, “fixin’ someone’s broken jewellery is just as close. It doesn’t matter how it happened. Plus, merfolk fight all the time. Especially when they like each other, its just natural.”
You stared open mouthed at Floyd as you processed his words. Floyd thought you had a crush on him, because you bit him and fixed his earring?! You were stunned silent, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly at the implication. If Floyd noticed, he didn’t mention it, continuing with his explanation.
“So that’s why I started bitin’ you back. It shows that I like you back and it lets all those guppies know it too,” Floyd’s gaze fell back to your arm again, and now it really made sense why he had pulled a face earlier when he saw his bite marks all but gone, “it’s also why I started borrowin’ your things and keepin’ them on me, so that all the guppies would see that I’m unavailable.” Floyd finished, looking at you expectantly. You simply stared back at him, rendered speechless by Floyd Leech for the umpteenth time that day. Floyd began to frown again at your bewildered expression, and he leaned towards you as he spoke next.
“D’ya get it, pea puffer? I like you.”
Floyd’s rather straightforward, unabashed confession is what snapped you out of daze, and you felt your cheeks grow hot, a red hue painting them. You’d look at home with the roses in the Heartslabyul gardens. You fumbled for some words, your lips moving but nothing coming out as you found yourself awkwardly flustered. A smile started to curve up Floyd’s lips as he saw just how flustered you were becoming, and he leaned closer still, his nose almost close enough to touch yours.
“Ne, pea puffer, d’ya like me back?”
If your cheeks could have grown any redder, they would have. At this point, someone might as well have dug a hole in the Heartslabyul gardens and planted you there, your face putting the roses to shame. “Y-you haven’t even taken me on a date!” You stuttered out, cringing at your own weak defence, only for Floyd to lean back and gesture at the room you were both in.
“Whad’dya mean? We’re on a date right now.” Floyd shot back nonchalantly, and you almost choked on your own tongue.
“This was entrapment! Some would even dare to call it kidnapping!” You retorted, finally starting to shake the daze that his explanation and confession had put you in, “usually, when you like someone, you ask them out on a date.”
Floyd’s grin became toothy, and that’s when you knew you’d really put your foot in it. “D’ya want me to ask you on a date, pea puffer?” There was a shine in his eyes, and he seemed excited about the idea, but also sincere. You felt your cheeks heat up again and you looked away, suddenly finding the spelldrive players on the sports field very interesting. “T-that’s not what I said.”
Regardless of your complete obliviousness to merfolk mating customs and what you had apparently started, Floyd seemed very satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. He scooted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours as he leaned in very close, his lips hovering above yours for a painfully long moment before he decided to detour and press a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead, his wild toothy grin as he pulled away a complete contradiction to this gentle gesture. “Buckle up, pea puffer, ‘cause now I’m courting you. Aha~!”
Just what had you gotten yourself into?!
Taglist:
@musclefanatica @lanxianschoenheit @red-viewe @d1gital-data @susvale @pzlqpibz @saturnsapothecary @the-unhinged-raccoon @mochiclouds @nooneknows8976 @01paige01 @honeyhivess
#twst#twisted wonderland#floyd leech x reader#twst floyd#floyd leech#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech x y/n
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˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
sick day pt 2 (previous part)
summary: paige caught your cold, now the roles are reversed and you look after her
content warnings: none!
request by: anon, this one for u bby 💋
You were getting ready for a day of studying at the library, after being away from classes while you were sick, you had a lot of catching up to do. You packed your bag with books, your laptop and headphones of course, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate without music. You felt almost completely better, Paige had nursed you back to health with all her home remedies and lots of hugs.
A knock at your door caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting anyone. Your roommates were either at work or in class and Paige was at her morning workout.
You opened the door sceptically and was met with a very sorry looking Paige. Her eyes were hooded and her nose three shades redder than usual, she looked exhausted.
“Hi P, what are you doing here?” You ask but you have a feeling you already know the answer. Paige looked just like you did a few days ago. She was sick.
“Geno sent me home. I’m sick.” She pouted and you opened your arms for your girlfriend to fall into. Despite Paige standing almost a whole foot taller than you, you still managed to wrap her in your arms tightly and pull her into your apartment.
“I don’t want to say I told you so but I did indeed tell you so.” You say in jest, you had warned Paige not to get too close to you but she insisted on staying by your side until you felt better, she continued to hug and kiss you as if nothing was wrong and now she was paying the price.
“I just wanted to look after you.” Paige replied, her voice croaking and she winced at the feeling.
“I know baby and I love you so much, now it’s my turn to look after you.” You say, slipping her bag off her shoulder and taking her hand in yours, “Let’s get you to bed.” You rub soft circles on the back of her hand as you lead her to your bedroom.
You pick out some shorts and t-shirt Paige had left at your place since she stays over so often. “Arms up baby.” You instruct Paige, who’s now sat limp on the edge of your bed, shoulders slouched and eyes squinting. You remember how the bright light stung your eyes while were sick and you flick it off at the switch, the natural day light streaming through the window lighting the room instead.
Paige lifts her arms and you slip her training shirt off her head, it finding a new home on your floor and she’s left in just her sports bra and sweats. “On or off?” You ask pointing at her bra, not knowing if she’d feel more comfortable with it off. “Off please.” She mutters, lifting her arms again for you to remove the bra and you do, your hands grazing along her skin in the process and you feel how hot she is. “You have a temperature my love, we gotta get that down.” You tell her, helping her slip her arms into the t-shirt you provided.
You swap Paiges sweats for pyjama shorts and you think about the delicacy and intimacy of you undressing your girlfriend so she’s completely exposed just to dress her again in something more comfortable and you love that you have these simple, domestic moments with Paige. You have amazing sex too and that’s great but you’re grateful you can not only find pleasure in each other but comfort as well.
You gently untie Paiges signature braids after she complains of a headache and you run your fingers through her hair massaging her scalp as you go. She hmms in response to your soothing touch and you continue for a while longer hoping to release any tension the tight braids had caused.
Your sheets were freshly washed and smelled of comforting lavender and you opened them, guiding Paige to rest against your pillows. She sneezes a few times, her head bopping down as she does and you know she’s sick and not feeling good but you can’t help but find her mannerisms so cute.
“OK, I’m getting water, medicine and I picked up a little something especially for this situation. Any requests from the kitchen, my pretty patient?” You ask Paige stroking her face gently and her eyes flutter closed at your gesture, “Maybe some goldfish?” She asks looking up at you, eyes heavy with sickness and adoration for you, even when she was ill, Paige still looked at you with so much love, you were grateful you had some so special that looked after you when you needed it and that you could look after when she needed it. “Of course.” You press a kiss to her forehead and drag your blanket over and around her shoulders as you notice her shivering slightly.
You gather everything you need and take it back to Paige, her head is rested back and she looks as though she’s sleeping but she perks up at the sound of you entering the room again.
You provide Paige the pills you know will make her feel better the same way she did for you, holding a bottle of water to her lips for her the swallow the tablets.
“Before the Goldfish, drink this.” You say producing a small bottle filled with a ginger shot from your pocket and Paige immediately shakes her head, “No. Yuck. I’m not drinking that.” She refuses, clamping her lips shut.
“Oh come on P, it’ll help you.” You insist, unscrewing the cap.
“A hug would help me too.” She whispers, lifting up the duvet for you to join her in bed. “And I’ll give you all the hugs, all day and all night.” She smiles weakly, “…Once you drink this.” You say bringing the bottle to her lips and her small smile quickly drops.
“No. Not doing it.” She says voice hoarse and rough and you just know it hurts when she speaks.
“Paige, your voice sounds like rocks dragging on concrete. Please just take the ginger shot.” You plead, perching on the edge of the bed.
“I think you mean my voice sounds sexy.” She husks and you laugh at her attempt to divert the attention away from her refusal to drink the health shot in your hand.
“How about a compromise?” You offer and she raises her brows waiting for you continue. Deep down, you knew Paige was just a girl who liked girls, you especially, so you take her hand by her wrist and guide it under your shirt, placing it firmly against your left breast and Paiges eyes widen in shock. You offer her the shot once again and she takes it in one swift gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste. “I’ll take six more.” She grins, giving your tit a slight squeeze in her grasp.
“Alrighttt miss, enough of that.” You say removing her hand, “We’re trying to get that fever down, remember?”
Eventually you climb into bed next to Paige, changed back into pyjamas, studying at the library could wait, you had a sick girlfriend that needed some serious TLC and you were going to give it to her.
You ran a damp cloth over her forehead, praying for her fever to subside.
Paige snuggles into you as your turn on the TV starting the next episode of her favourite show, Greys Anatomy. Your hand falls to her back where you trace circles with your finger tips, “That feels really good. Don’t stop.” She mumbles into you, sniffling slightly. “I won’t baby. I’ll stay right here, like this.” You reassure her, “Get some rest, you need it.”
After some time, you feel Paiges breaths even out, she’d fallen asleep, head in your lap, arm rested on your legs and you keep your promise and continue tracing circles on her back. You’d do it all night if she asked, you’d do anything for the blonde girl that would do anything for you.
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
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comfort crowd
boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else
- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍
You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.
A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.
The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.
Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.
You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.
“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.
She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.
“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“
“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”
You simply nod at her in response.
“Alright then, Abby.”
After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:
“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”
Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?
Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.
That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.
And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.
You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”
You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.
“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.
Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”
Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.
Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.
Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.
She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.
You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”
As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.
You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.
“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”
“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.
“Right, thank you, Abby.”
You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.
Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.
But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.
The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.
Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.
And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.
The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.
You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.
Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.
As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.
Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.
All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.
Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.
You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.
It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.
Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?
Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.
At that moment, she wanted to make things right.
Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.
Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”
Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.
She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:
“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”
Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.
Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”
You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.
You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.
“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”
You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”
The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”
It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…
Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”
You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.
“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”
Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.
Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”
You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.
Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.
“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”
Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”
You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”
She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.
“…you.”
A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”
You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.
“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.
And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.
But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?
You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.
Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.
Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”
With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.
However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.
Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.
You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.
“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“
“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”
You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“
“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.
“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”
Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.
Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.
“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”
The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”
You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.
So you give in this time.
“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”
And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.
Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”
You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.
“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.
You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.
“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.
You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.
Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.
That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.
So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.
“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”
As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.
You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.
You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“
“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”
You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”
“Better than him, right?”
“Yeah. Better than him.”
A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”
You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.
Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.
The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.
Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”
“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”
You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.
She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.
“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”
Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.
“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.
“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”
All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.
The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.
Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.
At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.
Abby was waiting for you to cum first.
You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.
“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.
“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”
At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.
“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.
Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.
Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.
Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.
Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.
You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.
Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”
You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.
And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.
2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.
#abby anderson#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby anderson smut#boyfriend’s mom!abby#abby x reader smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson tlou#abby the last of us#abby anderson x reader#abby x reader#abby x you#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x you#abby anderson the last of us#abby anderson fanfiction#the last of us#abby tlou#the last of us x reader#the last of us part 2#the last of us fanfiction#wlw#abby the last of us 2#the last of us 2#tlou2 x reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou part 2#tlou fic#if you’re reading this i love older women
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your boyfriend has been acting weird lately (various yandere characters x gn reader) (ANGSTOBER DAY 2)
"babe are you-"
"can you quit talking? seriously, you're so damn annoying."
"...i only wanted to ask whether you were hungry..."
you stare at your boyfriend, lips pursed as he continues to type away on his phone. he's been like this for three weeks now. getting mad at you for no reason, cursing at you... did you do something wrong?
all you ever wanted was to be a good significant other and he's acting like he's on his period or something! jesus, can't he be a little bit more mature too?! picking fights with you for no reason, making a big fuss over nothing... and not even telling you why?!
...
you know what?
you had it with him.
"hey, what's your problem huh?! why are you so edgy nowadays huh? did i do something wrong?!"
your once loving boyfriend stares at you, eyes and mouth wide at your sudden outburst. he takes a moment to compose himself, eyebrows furrowing the second he thinks things through.
"god you're so damn stupid. I've been repeatedly telling you, haven't i? i hate you. what can't you understand?! this is why I'm always getting mad, damnit!"
you scoff at him, arms folded in front of your chest as you try to keep your cool... only for your anger to get the better of you, resulting in a screaming festival between you and your boyfriend.
"hate me? you can't expect me to believe that. not when you were literally obsessed with me up till three weeks ago?!"
"i-"
"you used to threaten people just for looking at me! you even tried to kill someone because they asked for my number! and now you want me to believe that you hate me? stop with your bullshit."
".. actually-"
"oh. are you seeing someone else? is that what this is? you're trying to make me break up with you, is that it?"
"n-... you know what? yeah, yeah it is. i want to break up with you. I've found someone else that i love more than you."
your boyfriend states, eyes dead as he stares straight at you. he breathes calmly, as if he weren't affected by this at all. meanwhile, your heart felt as though it had shattered into many tiny pieces. tears fell from your eyes, unable to be held back any longer as you broke down, falling to your knees as the male just stares at you stoicly.
"let's never see each other again."
he mumbles, turning on his heel, swiftly leaving you alone to wallow in your sadness in the once lively apartment. shit... you hadn't expected things to end like this.
"he's a fucking jerk..."
you think through your tears, vision blurry as you clutch your chest. you really loved him and he just?? left?? how could he be so heartless?
if he didn't love you he could've just said something about it. he didn't have to be so mean and hurt your feelings before finally bringing up another person! god damnit, why did you have to fall for such a person?!
you cried, wailing as you cursed your now ex-boyfriend.
"fuck! i hate you! i hate you so much! i hope i never see you again! just disappear from my life! you just left me to die here! stupid ex-boyfriend! i hate giving you my love!"
what you didn't know however, was that your 'heartless' boyfriend had stood outside your door, frowning at your every word, regretting everything he had done up until that moment. because he had loved you too. truly.
he loved you so damn much that he wanted to tear out his hair every single time he was mean to you. he wanted to tell you that he didn't mean any single one of those hurtful words. he wanted to cry and beg for your forgiveness every single time he did anything hurtful to you.
but it was for your own good. it was to keep you safe. and if he needed to hurt you to keep you safe, he'd do it. because he loved you too much to see someone else hurt you.
and being with him meant that there was always a risk of you getting hurt. so how could he allow that to happen when it could be prevented? how could he let his selfish feelings get in the way when you were such a precious little thing? sure, he loves you and he'll do anything in his power to ensure your safety but what if he can't protect you one day?
what if one day you just... get used against him? he's a dangerous man and has a lot of enemies. surely they'll find out that you're his weakness. of course he has gotten rid of anyone who might harm you now but who's to say that there won't be more in the future?
which is why he has to severe all ties with you now. he can't risk it. because he may be strong, but he may not be strong enough for whoever may come in the future. that's why he's been doing what he's been doing-making you hate him so that it hurts less when he decides that it's time to leave. he assumes that it's working wonderfully, after all you've never once noticed his puffy eyes in the morning.
"at least... they'll be safe now."
and disappear he will, for he has too many regrets welling up in the depths of his soul from what he did to you. he'll make sure to never come across you again, instead lurking in your shadow, observing you from afar.
a star like you need not be dirtied by his presence anymore.
dazai osamu, akutagawa ryunosuke, megumi fushiguro, blade, scaramouche/wanderer, your faves<3
#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere angst#yandere drabbles#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere bsd#yandere bungou stray dogs#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting#suiana's angstober 2023
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Till Death Do Us Part
Barça x R | Lionesses x R | Matildas x R Warnings: Childbirth Complications (Amniotic Fluid Embolism), Death, Grief (please tell me if I’ve missed any) - also google translated Spanish/Catalan
Edited
Hopefully this is good, let me know what you think. Inspired by Ed Sheeran's song "Welcome to the World" (Was going to wait to post but yeah, posting it now)
“Irene, have you spoken to-” Alexia was stopped in her tracks when she turned the corner into the locker room, there you stood, the person Alexia was about to ask Irene if she had spoken too. There you stood, holding your two week old baby in your arms. There you stood in the middle of the locker room, rocking her as tears streamed down your face.
“C-can some-” you choked out as you gestured to the baby in your arms who Irene carefully scooped up into her arms before walking back out the room and shutting the door.
Alexia caught you as you threw yourself at her. She held your trembling body in her arms. The sobs wracking your body so deep and heavy they were silent. Alexia held onto you tightly, knowing no amount of reassurance could make the pain go away. Nothing would ever take this pain away. Nothing could ever bring your wife back, nothing could ever bring your daughter's other Mum back. Your wife, your life partner, died two weeks ago during birth, what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, wasn't, she had an amniotic fluid embolism. You had meet her when she first joined Barça, Lucy and Kiera introduced you to 'Australian Alex', being one of two Alex's at City she was given that nickname, her full name was Alexandra but she hated it. You felt an instant connection, you trusted her, which was weird because you were careful with who you let into your life you were quite and reserved usually until Alexia managed to convince you that they were a good person and you could trust them. You signed for Barça the same year as Alexia, you were English breed and born but you moved to Spain when you were ten, so you moved through the ranks of La Masia before singing with Barça meaning you grew close to Alexia over the years even though you were two years younger than her, you both were always two of the youngest players on any of your teams. Your parents died 6 months after you signed for Barça and Alexia and her family helped you through it, Eli told you she was going to be your 'mother' from now on, and that she was. You went to every family diner, you spent Christmas with them, you were always the first person Eli went to, to ask questions when she was concerned about her eldest daughter.
2 weeks ago
“It’s okay, you’re doing so good,” you told her as she threw up again, “are you sure it’s normal she is throwing up this much?” you asked the nurse yet again who just dismissed you.
“It hurts,” she whimpered out.
“I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could help, I wish I could make it better,” you said as you pressed the emergency call button continuously.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” The doctor said as he rushed in.
“I-I can’t breath,” she panted out before just about every monitor in the room started to alarm.
“She’s crashing, bag her. Call a code blue, we need an OR stat,” the doctor ordered.
The sound of the wheels being unlocked reverberated around the room, joining the symphony of alarms, and she was whisked away. Wheeled down the hall, gone, you were left standing, in the empty room, wondering what had gone completely and utterly wrong, this was meant to be the best day of your lives.
“Bronze, Walsh, I can trust you,” Irene said, relieved.
“Door. Baby. Don’t let anyone go in. Do not go in.” She said as she passed the newborn into Kiera’s arms, who started to rock her gently whilst cooing at her, “I’ll be back. I need to go talk to Jona. If Alexia asks for me, that's where I am.” she said as she started to walk off, before turning back around, “But I repeat do not open the door,” the two English women nodded blankly as Lucy moved to stand in front of the door. They were pretty sure they could hear someone crying through the door. It wasn’t Alexia.
“She is so cute.” Kiera said looking at Lucy who looked at the baby, before Kiera looked back down and Lucy lifted her gaze to the ceiling, “but to whom do you belong? And what’s going on in there?” Kiera asked whilst Lucy was trying to suppress her tears, the sight of the baby, your baby, brought tears to her eyes.
“Luce, don’t you think she looks familiar?” Kiera asked as she looked up at the defender again, seeing her eyes glossed over, the ginger’s heart immediately sank. It was you who was crying, it was your baby, “oh,” Kiera let slip.
“Yeah,” the defender bit her lip and nodded slightly.
2 months and 2 weeks since Alexia held your sobbing body in the locker room. 2 months and 2 weeks after moving into Alexia’s spare room, you found yourself in Bilbao. You found yourself in the Champions League Final starting XI. You found yourself leading your line out. It was a bittersweet moment, but you knew she was watching from above, and your now 3 month old baby was in the family section in the arms of Alexia’s mother. Every single Barcelona player and staff member wore a black armband. Everyone agreed (without your input) that this game would be for her.
____
Yet again you found yourself on the verge of tears, something that seemed common these days. However Alexia’s actions had confused you enough to help keep them at bay. She had lined up at the start of the medal line to collect her medal, which was confusing in and of itself as she was the one who needed to collect the trophy, but then she handed her medal to Ingrid and lined back up behind you. However the confusion Alexia caused was slowly being taken over by the never ending pit of sadness inside you, and as you walked up onto that podium you realised going last maybe wasn’t the best idea. There were two medals left to be handed out, and you knew exactly who the, now spare, medal belonged to, you received your medal and kept walking fast, until you arrived in front of Lucy, turning around to face the podium again, knowing Alexia was going to make a speech before lifting the trophy. Lucy wrapped her arms around you from behind and placed her chin on your shoulder, the action spreading some warmth in you, temporarily hiding the pain.
You watched Alexia nod in the direction of Jona who nodded back to her before she pulled her shirt off, revealing a second shirt, the tears couldn’t be kept at bay anymore and when she collected that final medal you let out a silent sob as your tears became heavier.
Alexia made sure to display the back of the shirt to all sides of the filled stadium before taking the microphone, beginning a speech, different to her normal one. She was explaining who you’d all played the match for. She was informing the fans, something you hadn’t even thought about doing. Alexia teared up as she spoke, having to swallow back her emotions every once in a while. That’s when you realised it, she was gone forever. You started to cry harder and Lucy turned you around in her arms and held you tightly, as your body shook from your tears. You were transferred into Alexia’s arms at one stage, she was also crying, because she missed her, but she was also crying for you, for your daughter, for all the moments you will never get to have together as a family.
“Thank you,” you sputtered out as you leaned back from the hug, she took your head in her hands, as she shook her head at you, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe your tears away, causing a small smile to crack on both of your faces.
“Let’s go lift this trophy shall we,” you both laughed. Maybe? Before you hugged each other tightly and went to join the rest of the team who were waiting. After a few trophy lifts your families were allowed onto the pitch, and Mapi immediately took your baby girl from Eli and placed her in the trophy cup, before she carefully lifted it up, earning a scowl from Alexia, who promptly rescued her niece.
_____
“Do you think Auntie Ellie will want to meet you?” you asked the 3 month old. Strategically positioning yourself close enough so that the Australian would hear, but far enough away that she hadn’t seen you yet.
“Really,” she said as she lifted her head from Dan’s shoulder and looked up to you.
“Of course.” you said as you walked over to her, handing her your daughter to hold.
“Ellie meet Matilda Alex Y/L/N”
#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#barca femeni x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni imagine#lionesses x reader#lionesses x r#lionesses imagine#matildas x r#matildas x reader#matildas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas imagine#lucy bronze x reader
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we could make it better (breaking every habit)
Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader
Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer
Part 1
They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies.
Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.
As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.
Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-
“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then.
“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.
“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.
Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.
“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”
“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.
“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in.
What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.
“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.
“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.”
“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.
She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.
“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”
“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it.
“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.
“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.
“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.
He got out of it.
“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.
“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”
Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”
“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”
“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.
“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.”
“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”
“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”
“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#criminal minds fic#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds spencer reid#criminal minds hurt/comfort#Spotify
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wait not to be like I killed another person with my thoughts but like
Hey, I’m coming from the notes of that ‘have you ever killed someone’ incognito-poll after reading your tags. Have you ever been evaluated for OCD?
not officially but I do think I probably have it tbf. also I have a friend who has it and he once told me I fit a lot of the criteria lol
#2 days ago i had nothing better to do than think about 'what if these 5 ocs i have were directioners'#despite the members of one direction not existing for another 30 years based on when the story's set. but anyway#so i was thinking who would be whose favourite and came to the conclusion the worst one in the group would have liam as her favourite#and then i was thinking god liam gets made fun of so much like what if he died or something that'd be fucked up. anyway#and then went to bed early bc of a headache so i didn't find out he'd actually died until the next day#but i had the oc stuff in my notes apparently last modified at 8.59pm which i imagine was around the time i had that thought#and then apparently he died at 9.04pm uk time#so like. what the fuck. why was i thinking 'imagine if liam payne died that'd be messed up' 5 minutes before he actually died#this is not helping the 'predicting bad events' allegations coming from my undiagnosed self#first covid then my sister's friend dying then liam payne dying god what next#but also what do i do with this information. i just had to bring this up i guess bc it's such pointless info#ramble
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