#I’m trying to find me next long fic hopefully | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aeyumicore · 2 months

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misty invasion - hidden motive

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | xav's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.

next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.

He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.

Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.

God, you drove him utterly insane.

Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.

“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.

Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.

He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.

Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.

The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.

You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.

“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.

He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.

“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.

This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.

Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes

He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”

His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.

“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.

Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.

His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.

You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.

Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.

You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.

You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.

“Z-Zayne, wait I —”

He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”

You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.

You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”

Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.

His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.

“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”

Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.

“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”

His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”

You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”

The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.

“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.

His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”

You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.

He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.

“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.

“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.

“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”

Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.

“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,

His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.

At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.

“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.

“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.

You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.

You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.

You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.

Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”

His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”

You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.

Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.

The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.

“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.

“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.

Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.

So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.

Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.

You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.

Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.

“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.

“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”

A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.

It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”

Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.

“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.

Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.

“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.

It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.

His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.

Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.

Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.

Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”

You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”

Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.

“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.

“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”

His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”

The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.

Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.

“You could say that.”

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

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katsu28 · 3 months

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first time for everything

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: a lot of things were in the cards for oscar’s first home race. he just wasn’t expecting confessing his love for you to be one of them. (3.3k)

warnings: maybe a swear word idk

a/n: my first oscar fic! not sure if i've got his personality down quite yet but hopefully i've done him justice :)

“You’re nervous.”

Oscar tore his attention from his phone camera, where he was messing with the swoop of his hair for what had to be the fifth time. He shook his head, though you could probably see right through him. “No, I’m not—I just didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were nervous for today.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to be nervous, Oscar. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.”

You were right, he was nervous about a lot of things—this weekend was his first home race, the first race you were able to attend during his time as a driver for McLaren. But the first thing he learned from competing at this level was to never let his nerves show. Put up a front, make it seem like he was cool as a cucumber so people wouldn’t doubt him, let his skills on the track do all the talking.

Normally, Oscar was good about that. But you could see right through him. You knew him well enough to know how he was feeling and how to help, even if he himself didn’t quite understand it.

The story of you and Oscar was quite the cliche, really. He knew of you through a friend of a friend and was instantly intrigued without even meeting you, managed to reach out, and the rest was history.

You hadn’t even met each other face to face until a month into your constant texting, but when you did finally find the opportunity to meet up in person, it was like you’d both found the other half of yourselves in each other. While Oscar was more of a straight to the point, cut and dry kind of guy, you managed to bring him out of his shell a little bit, to get him to expand his horizons (within reason, of course).

You were the opposite—always smiling, always happy to try new things, warm and sunshine-y and everything in between. Oscar toned you down without holding you back, reminded you to take a breather before immediately jumping into the next exciting thing, to enjoy what you had while you had it so you wouldn’t miss anything.

He’d only just gained the courage to ask you out a few months back, but it only seemed fitting that you were here with him for his first race in front of his home crowd.

“It’s a lot to process.” Oscar admitted, letting his shoulders creep up towards his ears in a shrug. You leaned against him, looping an arm through the crook of his elbow and slipping your hand into his for a reassuring squeeze, pressing your chin against his bicep. “I just don’t wanna let anyone down, y’know? Wanna make everyone proud.”

“You’re going to do great. I promise.” You said firmly, reaching up to push his hair into its perfect place. Oscar nuzzled into your touch on instinct, letting you cradle his cheek in the palm of your hand. Your thumb swept over his cheek a few times, lulling him into a sense of contentment.

“Forget me. How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited! I’ve never done something like this before.” You replied, letting your hand drop. “And kinda nervous, but it’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course it will.”

“Have any sage words of wisdom for a first time paddock goer?”

“Oh, you know me. Keep your head down, walk fast. There’s gonna be a lot of cameras, lots of fans, they’re all gonna want something from you. I’ll be with you as long as I can, so I’ll be there in case things start to get out of hand.”

“Can I say hi to the fans?”

“If you want to, yeah. They already love you.”

That was another thing Oscar had to be worried about. Today was a day full of firsts, it felt like, because it was also the first time you’d be making your public debut as a couple. You’d already become a fan favorite when the two of you were just friends (two very mutually pining friends, no less), but making your relationship paddock official seemed daunting.

Oscar wasn’t at all worried about what people would think. In fact, he didn’t really care. He was happier than he’d been in a long time and nothing would change that. What he was worried about was how you’d be treated. Oscar loved the fans, he really did, but there were always that handful who thought they knew him—knew what was best for him. Knew who was best for him.

If he could protect you from any harm that could possibly be aimed your way, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but things could get so very unpredictable out there. The best he could do was keep you close.

Your grip on Oscar’s hand tightened just the slightest bit at seeing the sheer amount of people outside the window. Noticing this, he rubbed his thumb along your knuckles soothingly.

“You don’t have to come along.” He said softly. You tore your eyes away from the passing crowds to look at him. “There’s a back entrance, you can go through there.”

“No, it’s alright! I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? It’s okay if you're having second thoughts, sweetheart.”

“I’m not, I promise. It’s kind of a lot, but nothing I can’t handle.” You said firmly, more for yourself than anything. Oscar squeezed your hand with a soft smile. “If you can do it, I can do it.”

“There you go. You’ll be the star of the show. Everyone’ll be like Oscar Piastri who? There’s the most beautiful girl in the world, and just some guy.”

You had to bite back a laugh at his words paired with the deadpan expression gracing his face. Oscar always seemed to know how to get you to relax.

“Well, you’re the hottest just some guy I’ve ever seen.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling at how his fair skin immediately flamed hot under your lips.

Despite your previous hesitation, you looked entirely in your element as you made the walk hand in hand, looking around with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Oscar couldn't help but watch you take it all in, not bothering to mask the awe in his eyes as he did so. He wouldn’t be surprised if photos of him looking at you made it to fan Twitter by the end of the day.

Oscar was whisked away as soon as you got through to hospitality, giving him barely enough time to say goodbye to you before he was shuttled to meeting after meeting, press conferences and pre race interviews, a thousand things to do in the few hours he had before he had to get ready for free practice.

He was already exhausted by the time he made it back to his driver’s room, pushing open the door with a heaving sigh. You glanced up at the commotion he was making, smiling at him warmly and setting aside your phone.

“Hey, you,” You hummed, holding out your arms towards Oscar as soon as he closed the door behind him.

“Hi.” Oscar sighed, folding you into his embrace as comfortably as he could in the cramped alcove. There was barely enough room for one person on the bench, let alone you and your boyfriend with his broad shoulders. You shifted sideways to solve the problem, throwing your legs over Oscar’s lap, to which his hand immediately came to rest on your knee. “I missed you.”

“Wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” You teased. Oscar rolled his eyes goodnaturedly, giving your leg a gentle pinch that you giggled at before leaning in to press a quick peck to his cheek. “I missed you too.”

“What did you get up to while I was gone?”

“Oh, so much! I took a walk around the paddock just to check everything out, and I kinda got lost, but someone helped me find my way back eventually.” You shrugged, not noticing the way Oscar’s eyebrows flew up into his hairline.

“Wait, you got lost? Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were busy.” You said, very as-a-matter-of-factly. He blinked at you slowly, a blank expression present on his face. “I’m a big girl, Osc, I can find my way around just fine.”

That made Oscar falter. You were right. He cared so much, especially about you—so much so that sometimes he forgot you were entirely capable of taking care of yourself.

“A lot of people asked to take pictures with me. Me! Isn’t that crazy?” You exclaimed, beaming bright. “I promised one of them your sweaty fireproofs in return, but that’s beside the point.”

“You what?” He spluttered, eyes widening almost comically. His fingers froze in their fiddling with the rings adorning your fingers.

“I’m kidding, obviously. Lighten up, Oscie, jeez.”

Oscar rolled his eyes playfully. “Right, well I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“You know what would make this day even more fun?”

“I don’t think I want to.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. “Can I meet Charles Leclerc? Is that something you can pull off?”

Technically speaking, it would be extremely easy for him to pull off. All he really had to do was bring you over to the Ferrari motorhome for a quick introduction, and he was sure Charles would take a liking to you, just like every other driver you’d gotten to meet so far. You had that kind of persona; one that made people want to get to know you.

Oscar quite liked that about you. What he wouldn’t like as much was you being immediately wooed by the driver’s seemingly irresistible French charm. And yeah, you were Oscar’s girlfriend and Charles also had a girlfriend of his own, but still. Nobody wanted to see the girl they loved fawning over another man, even one as cool as Charles Leclerc.

But Oscar would never tell you that, because he loved you, and he’d do anything to make you happy.

“Uh…yeah, sure. I could probably get you an intro, if that’s something you really want.” He heard himself saying, scratching the back of his neck. His heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the way your face lit up.

“Really?”

Oscar smiled tightly. “Why not? D’you wanna go now? There’s some time before we need to be on track.”

“That would be amazing, Osc.”

“Right then, let’s go.” He nudged your legs off him, heaving himself to his feet with a groan that would usually be associated with someone much older than him. You threaded your fingers through his as soon as he finished popping all his joints like an old man, following his lead out of the room and the motorhome, all the way to the bright Ferrari red building a few doors down.

Luckily, Charles was sitting at one of the tables in the main area, so you didn’t have to look far to find him.

“Charles, mate, you got a second?”

The aforementioned Monegasque tore his attention from his phone upon hearing Oscar’s voice, an easygoing smile already present on his face. “Oscar! What can I do for you, mate?” His eyes found you next, and he nodded politely. “Hello!”

“Hi.” You said quietly, clinging to Oscar’s hand tightly. This feeling was foreign to you. You’d never been so stunned into silence by someone before, but maybe that was because you’d never met someone as well known as the Charles Leclerc.

“This is my girlfriend. It’s her first time in the paddock and she’s a big fan of yours, figured I could introduce the two of you. Y/N, Charles. Charles, Y/N.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard much about you!” Charles exclaimed, popping to his feet. He moved forward to embrace you, wrapping you in a warm hug like he’d known you for a long time, let alone just met you not even fifteen seconds ago.

Oscar never really understood the whole hugging thing Charles had going on. Maybe it was a French thing. Either way, the hug seemed to have shaken you out of whatever starstruck daze you were in, because you straightened up.

Charles smiled warmly. “Welcome to your first race. I trust they are treating you well over at McLaren?”

“There’s definitely a few perks.” You replied, returning his infectious smile. You squeezed Oscar’s hand as you said it, and part of him felt a smidge proud that you considered him a perk. Charles laughed goodnaturedly. “I hate to sound so forward, but I wanted to say I love your music. The way you play piano is…the only way I can think to describe it is beautiful.”

“Oh wow, you—thank you! That means a lot, thank you. Do you play?”

“A little bit, but I haven’t had much time to sit at the bench lately.” You replied, giving a haphazard shrug. Charles nodded sympathetically, like he understood the troubles of carving out time to play. “D’you mind if I ask you a bit more about your inspiration while I’ve got you?”

“Of course, yes, yes, I would love to talk about it!”

Oscar touched a hand to the small of your back to snag your attention for a second. He liked music as much as the next person, but not as much as you and Charles, it seemed. “I’ll be over there.”

You nodded, popping up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before returning to your animated conversation with Charles.

Now, Oscar wasn’t a jealous guy by any means. On the contrary he was always quite calm and collected, so he thought he’d be fine. Secretly a little miffed, sure. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, but actually seeing you go starry eyed while talking to Charles sparked something inside him. He didn’t know how hard he was squeezing the can in his hand until he felt liquid trickling down the sleeve of his fireproofs.

“Ah, shit.” He muttered, shaking out his arm frustratedly.

“Stare at her any harder and she might burst into flames, mate.”

Oscar glanced to his left to see Lando standing there, arms crossed over his chest, expectant brow arched.

“Dunno know what you’re talking about.” Oscar grumbled, moving to toss the now crumpled can into the nearest rubbish bin. Lando looked wildly unconvinced. “What?”

“Don’t feed me that shit, Oscar, you’re way too easy to read for me to believe you’re not absolutely fucking in love with Y/N.”

Oscar made an offended noise from the back of his throat. “I am not easy to read.”

“Mate, you’re the openest book in the history of open books right now.”

“Openest isn’t a word.”

“Whatever! Stop deflecting.” Lando scoffed, wrinkling his nose. “You love her. Tell her that.”

“I can’t. I mean, I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“What if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t feel the same way yet?”

“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.” Lando groaned, letting his head tilt back in exasperation. Oscar squinted at him, unamused. “Oh, you’re serious? Mate, come on. Just today, in the half a day I’ve known her, I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. I see the way you look at her when she’s not looking. It’s obvious. You’re both obnoxiously in love with each other, and it’s sickening.”

The corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted into a grin. “Really?”

“Oh my god, yes, really. I mean honestly, how dense can you be?”

“A lot, it seems.” Oscar cast another glance at you, feeling a lot better than he had a few minutes ago. You were laughing at something Charles had said, but now all that was running through his mind was how pretty you looked when you laughed. How happy you looked talking to a person you held a lot of admiration for. Professional admiration, nothing more.

Part of him felt a little guilty. He should’ve been supportive the whole time, not sulking around being a jealous little prick thinking you would ever choose Charles over him.

“No point in overthinking it now, bro.”

“Since when did you become such a wise old man?”

“Oi, watch it, you muppet. I’m only two years older than you.” Lando huffed, rolling his eyes. “And I’ve always been wise, thank you for noticing.”

“Sure you have.”

“Tell her.”

Oscar nodded once, accepting the clap on the shoulder Lando gave him. “I will. Thank you.”

“Of course. And if you ever need any more advice, come on down to Lando’s love shack, where you can get—”

“Leave now, I’m begging you.” Lando took the hint, wandering away to go wreak havoc somewhere else, leaving Oscar alone with his own thoughts as he waited for you to finish up. It wasn’t long until you were making your way back over, practically aglow with excitement as you approached him. “Made a new best friend, have you?”

You snorted, clearly amused. “Oh, of course. We’ve already arranged to go on a double date when we’re all in Monaco at the same time.”

“Ha ha, very funny. You do know Ferrari’s one of our top competitors, right?” Oscar laced his fingers through yours once more, letting your joined hands swing between the two of you as you walked.

“You know what they say—keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Consider my blossoming friendship with Charles your way into the heart and soul of Ferrari’s strategies. You’re welcome.”

You were just joking, of course, and it made Oscar smile. Lando was right. Oscar was in love with you. He tugged you off the main path suddenly, leading you to a more secluded area between motorhomes.

“Osc? What’re you—” You were entirely cut off by him stopping in his tracks, and before you could comprehend what was happening, he was kissing you. He curled a hand around the back of your neck, the other coming up to cup your cheek gently.

It was by all means a sweet kiss, but a completely unexpected one nonetheless. Oscar had never been a public display of affection sort of guy before, so for him to kiss you out of the blue where anyone could see you…well, let's just say there was a first time for everything.

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You let out a noise of surprise, but returned his kiss wholeheartedly as soon as you realized what was happening.

“That was new.” You breathed as soon as he pulled away, splaying your palms across the firm plane of his chest to steady yourself after he’d kissed the living daylights out of you. Oscar’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a dazed grin stretching his lips. “You feeling alright, babe?”

“I love you.”

Immediately, you beamed, lighting up faster than a bonfire on a warm Melbourne night. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s about damn time you said it.” You poked his chest playfully, stifling a giggle at the way he did the biggest double take ever at your words.

“You—hang on, what?”

“I was waiting for you to be the one to say it first.” You shrugged. Oscar’s brow scrunched in confusion now. “Didn’t wanna scare you off and lose one of the best things in my life.”

“So…you do feel the same way?”

You reached up, smoothing a stray curl away from his forehead fondly. “Do I love you? ‘Course I do. I think I’ve loved you since the first time we met.”

“That was a good one, I should’ve said that. You’re so much better at this than I am.”

“What can I say? I’ve got the best just some guy as my inspiration.”

“I see what you did there. That’s gonna become a thing now, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Osc,” You sighed, patting his cheek affectionately. “It already has.”

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astralis-ortus · 4 months

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it feels impossible (it's not impossible)

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— 'cause you are the one i was meant to find.

w.count → 2k genre → romcom, fluff warnings → minor cussing (as per usual, heh), chan refered to as chris a.n → i'm usually not the type to write this long simply because i'm easily distracted and have the tendency to abandon projects, but hey! this one prevails :] hopefully next time i can write even longer fics<3 ⋆ see masterlist

honestly, you thought you were going crazy when the same melody restarted on chris’ speaker for the nth time today. it’s not that the song is bad—you do actually love ‘rewrite the stars’. you’re a fan of the movie, much like chris is, but putting the song on loop? for hours a day? for weeks? your sense of fanship isn’t that strong, especially when the song’s been out in circulation for years now.

“you wanna hear a theory?”

your question easily turns chris’ focus away from the endless papers he had to grade by the end of the day and towards you, raising an eyebrow to the sudden break of silence. his eyes visibly twinkled, contemplating if he should entertain the idea of putting on his regular-26-year-old suit over the professional-high-school-teacher ones he’d been in for the past couple hours or so.

well, to be fair, chris hasn't even been focusing on the pages of essays he needed to check. not when his mind has been preoccupied with something—someone—else.

“shoot,” he eventually replied with a lopsided smile etched on his lips—head cocked to the side when he finally decided to shut the screen of his decorated silver laptop, offering you his entire attention. “it better be funny or entertaining, considering i’m risking losing my hearing to my kids’ complaints for not returning their papers on time tomorrow.”

“oooh, pressure,” you mocked, a wide grin appearing on your face while you try to ignore the rush of tingles under your skin when you noticed the way chris referred to his students as ‘my kids’—something he’d always done and so do you, but somehow had a different effect on you as of recent. “believe me, it’s something fun,” you hummed with a shrug, mirroring chris as you set your laptop aside.

chris’ pair of charming dimples came into view upon your confident reply, fully immersed in the stage you’re setting up. fabric of his gray couch, one where you two had been slowly melting into for a few hours now, gently rustled when chris fixed his posture, less from lazing around and more into focusing on you and whatever nonsense he believed you were going to say. the glint in his eyes grew brighter by the second, both from anticipation and excitement.

“tell me.”

it felt like spring—when the flowers were in bloom, the breeze was blowing ever-so-gently against your warm cheeks, and the swarm of butterflies were surrounding you with its pairs of fluttering wings.

chris made you feel like spring.

“gee, tone down the excitement, mr. bahng,” you inadvertently shifted away, silently praying to whatever force ruling the universe that chris wasn’t aware of the way your heartbeat spiked to his playful grin. “don’t want to disappoint you there.”

”as if you could ever,” chris promptly refuted with a chuckle, chin resting on the palm of his hand. the way his playful gaze was directed right at you, framed by those loose curls of his, proved to cause your heart more problems than ease. “the ever-so-perfect you? a disappointment? really?”

”oh shut up,” you groaned, half wanting to wipe the cocky smirk off his face—or…?

”but then—if you say so, do tell me,” frown on your forehead instantly dissipates, replaced by a mirror of his lopsided grin when you figured you could turn the bullet right back at its owner,

“am i perfectly on point when i say you’re in love?”

despite the slight pang on your heart, you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face fades into surprise, a shade of blush slowly creeping on the top of his cheekbones.

the topic of love was never really something you discussed with chris. sure, you two met each other in college where hormones were bursting through the roof, but neither you or chris was interested in dating anyone—you with your slowly budding crush on chris, and chris with… god-knows-what he’s interested in. you never pried, for the sake of not making things awkward. that's your norm, and how you’ve spent your last 7 years with chris.

you and chris remained friends, which at some point evolved into best friends (you now, by the hey-i’m-bored-at-2am-let’s-hang kind of standard), and somehow, you two happened to land a teaching job within the same district around the same time. chris went to teach a reputable high school in the area, while you pursue your dream of teaching kids. you hang out at each other’s place every other day, despite the time you spent together consists mostly of being nose-deep in your respective workload.

the topic of love still was something foreign—you wouldn’t deliberately bring it up other than around the occasions when wedding invites stopped by yours or chris’ doorstep.

maybe, it’s time to change that.

”…huh?”

chris is thoroughly perplexed.

”oh come on, don’t even try to lie,” with a smile decorated with victory, you finally teased the man across. “it’s all written on your face, you know,” you continued, fingers gesturing to your own, “but also, your choice of song. god, do you even listen to anything else when you're in love?”

“but i'm not!” he yelped, facepalming himself upon realizing the shift in his tone is a dead giveaway of his true voice. “god—no. i'm not,” he added meekly, shaking his head, “you know i love the song. that's all.”

”fair enough,” acknowledging his plea, you briefly nod, “but that doesn’t justify the way you’ve been keeping the song on repeat! and don’t you think i don’t remember the few other occurrences when you did the same, because i knew for a fact that something happened every time you became distant after going through this rewrite the stars cycle!”

if his face were flushed before, then you’d categorize this new shade apparent on the tip of his ear as a what-the-fuck-i’m-screwed kind of blush and frankly, seeing this new side of him kind of made you regret not bringing the topic up sooner.

”you remembered?” his voice sounded more of a squeak rather than a proper question, still hiding behind the safety of his palms. “no you don’t! that was ages ago!”

”so things did happen!” your grin turned into a laugh, drowning chris’ groan and series of disapproving no when he realized he just bit into your colorful, glimmering bait. “gosh—why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? i was kinda hurt whenever that happened you know,” you purse your lips dramatically, “i lost a friend to talk to and never exactly know the reason why until today.”

“oh,” chris blinked, finally looking right at you with a puzzled gaze, “you… were? i mean—i’m sorry i hurt you. for the record, i wasn’t dating anyone. i just kinda assumed, you know, since you were dating someone else anyway i thought—“

”hold up—“ both statements rolling off of chris’ lips inadvertently made you hold up a hand, stopping the latter on his tracks. ”what?”

now both of you are puzzled.

you? dating someone?

”i just wanted to give you space,” chris reiterated, hand now awkwardly resting on his equally red nape, “figured you’d want that since me being around will likely bring trouble for you and the person you were dating.”

”but… i haven’t dated anyone since we became friends?”

you’re thoroughly confused.

”wait, what?” chris shook his head in disbelief, “what do you mean you haven’t dated anyone? what about the notes? and the flowers? and the chocolates too! what do you—what do you mean?”

nevermind, now you’re thoroughly confused.

”the ones from back in college?” your memories were not exactly as clear as you expected it to be, but you do remember receiving those gifts a few times due to its absurdity. “that was all from the rich ass kid i tutored! the one who i told you kept teasing me about never receiving any valentine's day gift? that kid? they sent me those gifts as a prank!”

“…what?”

the amount of ‘what’ you two have said in the past few exchanges is ridiculous.

”god—you thought i’ve been dating and never told you?” you finally pieced the puzzle together, incredulous. “and that’s why you distanced yourself? dude, are you serious?”

”well i just assumed!” chris raised his hands in defense, equally as incredulous as you are, “to be fair, those are usually gifts you get for someone you like! how am i supposed to know it’s from the kid you tutored? you never tried to told me!”

”you could’ve asked?” you stated, as-a-matter-of-factly. sometimes, despite that brilliant brain of his, chris could be quite the foolish one between the two of you. “besides, i thought you knew! you literally read the cards!”

”wha—how do you expect me to digest any of that when i was under the assumption someone i like is dating someone else!”

silence befalls chris’ usually cozy living room, leaving the soft resounding melody that hadn’t stopped as the only sound filling up the space. you’re not even sure if your ears were actually catching the right words falling from his lips; it felt too much like a fever dream. judging from the way his eyes turned wide, however,

you might have heard him correctly.

”you… like me?”

you never imagined you’d piece those words together, much less directing them towards chris. hell, even by remaining as friends was enough for you—having him to yourself was not something you thought would ever happen in this lifetime. you’re happy as you were; you’re content with being friends.

chris, on the other hand, is still visibly trying to digest the events that just unfolded around him. from the misunderstanding to unintentionally confessing his feelings, this was not how he expected his Sunday evening to be. all he wanted to do was be near the one person he’d been secretly nurturing his feelings for, praying that maybe one day he’d finally muster up the courage before everything was too late—but this was not how he expected things to turn out.

”i’m sorry,” he finally croaked, breaking the suffocating silence whilst also being too embarrassed to even look you in the eye, “i know it’s weird—from the misunderstanding to, you know, what i said. i never intended for you to find out about it this way. i understand that you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay, you—“

”oh shut up,” you capped his ramblings short, catching chris off guard. it’s not often you cut him off when he speak, so when you do, he knew you meant it.

“just, what?” you sighed, fingers begin massaging the throb on your temple. it’s hard to decipher what you’re currently feeling as a whole, but one thing you know for sure— you’re especially bothered by his last statement.

“chris, how would you even know what i feel if you’ve never even asked me?”

you watched through his pair of curious eyes as thoughts ran inside his mind, slowly deciphering what you meant with the sudden calmness in your voice.

“uh,” finally managing the train of assumptions in his head, chris then looked at you—only now, with a glimmer of hope reflected in his eyes, “do you... like me? like, more than just friends?”

and to that, you finally nodded.

“yeah, you dumbass. for the longest time.”

watching the way chris’ smile bloom easily turned you into another smiling mess—not missing the giggles nor the flush on your cheeks and all. It feels dumb, realizing that you’ve been into each other for forever but never realizing it because of some stupid misunderstanding.

“and i like you too,” chris reiterated, his goofy smile erasing any trace of worry that was present on his face just a second ago. honest to god—you thought you were falling in love all over again for chris.

“in that case...” he shrugged before outstretching a hand, trying his best to play things cool despite the growing excitement in his eyes,

“will you officially be my partner in crime?”

sound of your laugh only fuels the warmth spreading within chris’ heart—and it felt like the way he spent all those countless nights, wishing that one day the stars would eventually align for him finally paid off as you held his hand in yours, smiling brighter than any stars ever discovered.

“gladly.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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marwhoa · 1 year

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request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.

🝮 “ green with envy ”

rise!boys x y/n

author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?

word count: 6.1k

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌

Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.

But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.

It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.

But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.

Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?

So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.

The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.

“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”

Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.

“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”

“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”

He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!

“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”

Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.

“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”

He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.

“ Mm? Leo? ”

You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.

Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.

Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?

“ What in carnation? ”

There you went, first with a light and short laugh.

“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”

Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.

“—but, beleaf it or not—“

He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.

“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”

You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.

“ Y/N… ”

His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.

“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“

He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.

“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”

“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”

“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“

The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.

“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”

“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”

If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.

“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”

It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.

“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”

As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.

“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”

“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”

Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.

This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌

Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.

While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.

The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.

When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.

Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.

Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.

That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.

The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.

Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.

You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.

More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.

He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.

But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?

It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.

“ Raph! “

You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.

When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?

How could he be so stupid?

So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.

“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”

His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.

“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”

“ Wha? ”

“ You—You! ”

He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.

“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”

Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.

“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”

“ Then why do you like him more!? ”

“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”

You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.

“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”

His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.

“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”

You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌

If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.

While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.

Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.

You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.

And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.

The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.

Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.

The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.

That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.

Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.

Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.

“ Oh sh—“

Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.

Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?

Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…

Safer?

In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.

… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.

The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.

But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.

Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.

“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”

He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.

From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.

So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.

The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?

And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.

The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..

But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.

The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.

“ Y/N, can we talk? ”

Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.

“ Of course, dear. ”

That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.

“ Raph? ”

You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..

“ Raph…? ”

Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!

“ Do you like Leo? ”

“ What. ”

Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.

But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”

Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.

“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”

You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.

“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”

While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.

“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”

There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.

“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”

He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”

“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”

Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.

Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌

The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?

Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.

Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.

So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?

No? Just me?

Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.

But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.

Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?

Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.

But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?

The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.

No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.

“ Y/N. ”

Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.

“ Let’s go,”

Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.

“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”

The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.

“ Of course not, Dee. ”

Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.

“ Right. ”

He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.

The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?

What the heck, man?

“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”

Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.

You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”

Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.

“ Annoyed sigh. ”

While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.

“ Alright, spill it. ”

You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.

“ Spill what? ”

He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.

“ Spill wh—?! ”

Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!

“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”

His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.

“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”

That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.

“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”

Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,

“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”

Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.

Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.

“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”

There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…

“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.

“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”

The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”

“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”

Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.

“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”

Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.

“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”

Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.

“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”

Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.

“ Wait, you do? ”

“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”

Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.

“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”

His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.

“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”

You softened as his gaze fell onto you.

“ Because you were there.. ”

Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.

“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”

“ You were just… Jealous? ”

Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.

“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”

He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.

“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”

Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.

“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”

With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.

Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.

2K notes · View notes

bloodiedrogue · 1 year

Text

THE ROGUE TAX (2)

SUMMARY: Fed up with paying Astarion to pick all the locks, you force yourself to learn the hard way.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 2,635

WARNINGS: Short nightmare sequence, too much sexual tension, slight mentions of a handkink, inappropriate lock pick teaching.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm posting these super early but day two of the Haunted Hoedown! This time the prompt is "finders keepers!" I honestly had so much fun with this one, so hopefully all the new Astarion fans that've followed me in the last day enjoy? Love you guys. :))))

Also I was originally going to make all of these challenge fics separate but I've since decided to make it more of a connected fic so... that's a thing now? I'll link the last chapter below!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

“I wasn’t aware you were so proficient at lock picking.”

You smirk at Astarion’s false praise, busying your hands against the lock’s mechanism. You’ve only been at it for five or six, maybe seven tops but you can already tell it’ll be a while. The lock itself is tough; covered in a layer of thick rust. Plus, being that it’s a chest and not a door, it’s a bit more advanced than you’re used to.

“Yes, well, not all of us are vampires that can woo their way through a padlock.”

In response, Astarion laughs, throwing his head back so dramatically that from the corner of your eye, it looks as if he’s lost his head for a moment. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

You hum out a response and push the short hook further in, feeling the pressure of a loose pin hit the end. When that happens, you grin to yourself and slide closer to the chest, biting your bottom lip in excitement.

Over the last few weeks, you and the rest of the group had come upon some interesting findings. A cave inside a well, a few hidden cellars around the surrounding the goblin camp, a hidden chest or two. At first, it was exciting, getting to experience the joys of a good treasure hunt but quickly such feelings fell once you discovered how difficult it was to break into said things without the help of Astarion and his seemingly magic hands.

“I know you’re excited to prove yourself, darling, but why don’t you let me finish things off, hm? It’ll go a lot quicker.”

You shake your head and continue your ministrations, carefully pushing the hook further in, feeling that alleviated pressure of another pin. “I’m tired of relying on you and your bloody rogue tax.”

After agreeing that Astarion would just pick every lock your party found for a price, it was evident he was more than willing to take more than he was owed. Saying things like I did all the work or you wouldn’t be here if not for me, it was obvious he was exploiting you. Using his roguish charms to earn himself a bigger cut despite doing next to nothing else.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Another minor annoyance to add to his long list of negative personality traits, and lately you were determined to combat it. To learn the trade for yourself so that every piece of treasure found could remain solely yours.

“I’m sure everyone is but that’s the price you pay for a professional.”

You roll your eyes and continue to fiddle, feeling his gaze glued to the positioning of your hands —how your fingers tighten and twist around the metal instrument.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you at least a little bit nervous —having his eyes on you. Across your palms, you can feel the slick of sweat collecting with each new movement, while behind you, you can practically feel Astarion’s judgement throughout, silently picking apart all of your mistakes.

“You’re doing—“

You shush him angrily before he can continue, knowing he’s trying to break your concentration. Knowing that he thinks that if he can prove to be enough of a distraction you’ll end up slipping up and giving in.

“I was just going to tell you about the wonderful job you’re doing.” His tone is laced with sarcasm. Drenched in a thick layer of impatience that has you groaning under your breath.

“Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“No.”

You know there is. In the other room of the abandoned building you currently find yourselves in, at least four other people are rooting through the rubble. Most likely they’re stationed in their usual areas. Gale’s probably next to the stack of bookshelves with Karlach, telling her all about his collection back at the camp while Wyll and Shadowheart are searching through the cellar in hopes of more wine.

“You sure?”

For a moment you debate telling him to go keep watch with Lae’zel just so that he’ll shut up but the thought dissipates once you feel him flop onto the floor beside you with a groan.

“Everyone else is so dull,” he complains. His line of slight flickers between your face and hands, watching the way they remain almost too still as he speaks. “They’re all do this do that, and for what?”

You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, unsure of what he means.

“They’re all living for other people, darling. Other causes. Everything they do serves a higher purpose and for that reason alone, they’re boring.”

Despite your previous determination your hands release themselves from the padlock before you find yourself readjusting —moving to plop down next to him. “You think everyone’s boring because they’re selfless?”

“Predictable,” he corrects, pointing a loose finger in your direction. “All of them talk too much about a future that may not even come considering we’re infected and have little idea on how to remedy the situation.”

You’re not sure where this rant is coming from but you welcome it considering it’s been weeks since you’ve had a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around mapping or looting or combat. Weeks since you’ve taken a moment to learn about the people you find yourself in constant contact with.

“Some people just don’t like looking back.”

There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes when you respond as if he wasn’t expecting such an answer. Or really, maybe an answer at all. All at once his face seems to rise in thought, taking a moment to absorb the words before he hums in response, pursing his lips. “Yes, well, I suppose some people don’t have a past worth running from.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The tadpole behind your eye wriggles for his attention before you can even think to suppress it. Working to pull him in as you stare at one another, narrowing your eyes at the sudden cerebral contact. At first, he’s reluctant. You can feel the pushing sensation suggesting that you stop. That you should stick to the confines of your own mind rather than pestering him, but quicker than you can move away to agree, it’s as if you’re sucked back in again. Pulled by the very thread of your own brain matter to see flashes of a life you assume to be his.

The first thing you see is candlelight. A flickering of warm hues that dance across wooden interiors. It’s almost dizzying the way the light shifts across your vision, forcing you to close your eyes. Next to you, you can hear Astarion breathing heavily. Deep inhales followed by even deeper exhales that you swiftly use as a metronome to carry your focus. To aid your tadpole’s connection.

Swallowing hard, you listen to the beats of his breath, feeling them take over your chest as the vision in front of you grows to reveal bits of cobblestone. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of scuttling feet. The dripping of water. A hungry growl followed by an even hungrier gnaw of flesh that squelches on your tongue.

You can taste the iron —feel the fur and bones of an unknown animal brush against your lips and gums. All of it swirls around your mouth like a tornado of overstimulating sensations, forcing the vision to pass as you reach for your throat, coughing up nothing but your own spit despite how real it feels.

It’s apparent then what Astarion means. That some people aren’t always blessed with the privilege of running away. That people like him don’t have the means of calling upon allies to aid them through the awful shit that is reality.

Even with such little context, you can sense through his tadpole that he’s alone in this life. Alone before the Illithid —alone now. And more than likely, he’ll be alone after it’s all over, in death or otherwise.

Rubbing your throat —trying your best to get rid of the tainted feeling of skin and bone from your mouth, you feel empathy rather than sympathy. An understanding of his words as you look toward him, noticing the far-off look in his eye before he blinks and travels back.

“I only showed you that to save the explanation,” he says, and whether or not it’s true you merely just nod, welcoming the silence. The tranquil hush of two people attempting to navigate the other.

It doesn’t last long. In between, there are a few moments of background noise. The sound of echoing footsteps and muffled voices. You know it’s the others looting just as you should be, but neither of you moves to join until Astarion eventually clears his throat, signalling change.

“Anyway, they’re all in their own worlds, coasting on the wings of optimism.” He flicks his hand around the air while rolling his eyes. “It’s disgusting and partly why I choose your company above theirs.”

Letting yourself fall back into your usual, somewhat antagonistic rhythm, you give him a curious look. “Partly, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he quips, the edge of his lip twitching into that usual grin of his. “The other part is the potential of your blood, darling.”

“Ah yes. And here I was assuming you were just following me around so that you could steal my treasure.”

Both of your eyes move back to the unbroken padlock. It’s the only thing in this room that seems to be worth either of your time and Astarion knows it. It’s why he’s been so keen on your failure.

“You know, I could help you if you like. Show you a thing or two so that the next time this happens you don’t have to rely on me.”

It’s tempting, even if you know that you’ll be taxed to all hell. Whatever spoils you find will ultimately be cut in half and, more than likely, he’ll sweeten the deal for himself by claiming first pick.

“What’s the price?”

He shoots you a look of offence, clutching his chest. “My dear, I’d never dare put a price on the education of thievery.”

You hold back a grin, pressing your lips together, watching the way he quickly springs into action, motioning for you to hand him your tools. When you do he begins to explain the process, showcasing all the tips and tricks against the air with careful precision. Which would be helpful if you weren’t so focused on his hands rather than his words. On the way they curl around the handles of your tools, tightening with every gesture performed.

Astarion’s got nicer hands than most. Long and thin and surprisingly well-manicured for someone who spends most of his time in the forest or drinking the blood of unsuspecting animals. And guiltily enough staring at them so intently just reminds you of that night he drained your neck.

You can still feel the pressure of his fingers against your head. The way they roughly cupped you like a goblet of wine. Despite the fear in that moment, you’re now able to look back at that memory almost fondly. A moment of potential weakness for you somehow became a moment of trust for him and as a result, here you were now, acting almost friendly amid a terrible situation.

It makes you grin, prompting Astarion to stop his explanation and narrow his eyes.

“Are you even listening?”

“Hm?”

There’s a knowing glance that befalls his face then. A transition of clarity that has his mouth opening and closing before he hands you your tools. “Might be best if we take a more hands on approach.”

You look at him confused, letting the hooks in your hand lazily rest in your palm as you watch him hop to his knees and begin to guide you.

“I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, alright? Use the hook to push the pins.”

Despite your continued confusion, you follow his position by kneeling in front of the chest and popping the hook into the hole, digging around the darkened space until you feel the shift of that first pin.

“Got it?” You spare him a glance and a nod, watching him crawl towards you, positioning his chest firmly against your back before reaching out to hold your wrists. “Now, take that other hook of yours and situate it at the base of the barrel.”

Doing exactly that, you feel his fingers slowly slip over yours, navigating you through the trials of getting that second pin to shift as the barrel turns in your grasp. At first, it’s difficult. Mostly because all you can focus on is the breath that hits the side of your face. The heat of the air that travels down your spine in nervous waves you’re almost certain he can feel. But then you’re reminded that you’ve been here before; stuck within his heated grasp.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

You’re practically holding your breath as you find that third pin, feeling Astarion’s hand shift you in the right direction before you lose it at the last second. Ever so gently, his chest shifts upwards against your back so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. A newfound weight that makes you close your eyes and release a bit of air from your nose, realizing how intimate this is.

Somehow it feels even more personal than letting him feed off of you. Perhaps because the bloodsucking was for his own benefit, knowing Astarion, moments like that where he’s able to take rather than give mean next to nothing to him. They’re just moments of manipulation. A series of tactical steps he takes to get whatever he wants whereas this is different. This is for you.

You’re not sure how to describe it other than an offering of trust. Maybe it’s a token of appreciation for letting him consume. Maybe it’s nothing more than a game to make you squirm beneath his grasp. Either or, it’s an experience you know you’ll be thinking of for days to come, attempting to decipher its intent.

“Once you feel that final pin I want you to ease it in gently, alright? Be delicate.”

You offer him no response as you listen to his words. If you did, you’re certain he’d make some offhand comment that would only further the lewdness of it all, grinning like the mischievous prick he is.

“After that, you should feel a little shift and —voilà!”

The chest clicks open. Your breath releases in a long, much-needed stream but Astarion makes no effort to move from your frame. Instead, he continues to cling to your hands, angling his chin so that when you eventually look at him you’re practically touching noses.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s that easy?”

Slowly but surely he slips from your frame with a nod, his hands sliding across the expanse of your sleeves, coating your skin in a wave of goosebumps as he moves to stand. “Yes, but keep it hush, hush. Wouldn’t want the others to find out, would we?”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping across your lips as you then turn towards your reward, gripping both edges of the lid before pushing it up. Inside there are only a few items. A few spell scrolls and some fabric but it’s enough to get you excited regardless, realizing that it’s yours.

“Not bad for your first go.” Peeking over your shoulder, Astarion watches as you sift through everything carefully, unrolling each scroll to read the details before looking back up and raising a brow.

“You sure there’s no tax?” you ask, but all he does is laugh and shake his head.

“Finders keepers, darling. As I promised.”

#the rogue tax #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #haunted hoedown #haunted hoedown writing challenge #summer writes

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imaginespazzi · 2 months

Text

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :)

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison.

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself.

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up.

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen.

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips.

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs.

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission.

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all.

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach.

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness.

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough.

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out.

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry.

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance.

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too.

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first.

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums.

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige.

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes.

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly, scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige.

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence.

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind.

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts.

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it.

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night.

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box.

To her royal highness,

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do.

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours,

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is.

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible.

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand.

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else.

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said.

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender.

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body.

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum.

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips.

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself.

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters.

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK.

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today. From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her.

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments.

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all.

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance.

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm.

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple.

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this.

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference.

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter.

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation.

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige.

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles.

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body.

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly.

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow.

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly.

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now.

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go, really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe.

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk.

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie.

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too.

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out.

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch.

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly.

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself.

“What is?”

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold.

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her.

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple.

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people.

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone.

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone.

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever.

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand.

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone.

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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hhoneyhams · 3 months

Text

I Despise You - Chilchuck/F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Features: Jealous Chilchuck, Fighter class Reader, size differences, and workplace crushes.

Warnings: Entirely SFW with some slight language :^)

The reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and descriptors, wears a dress in the fic, is a tall-man, and fighter within the party. There are no real specifics for appearance other than that.

Songfic based on "Daft Pretty Boys" by Bad Suns

Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfiction for others to lay their eyes on in a very, very long time. I've had a blast writing this for the last few days and I'm excited to write more for Chilchuck and Dungeon Meshi!

The dwindling embers of the camp’s fire lit the dungeon with a warm, orange glow. A sense of electric excitement had infected the late-night conversation amongst the party members, some chattering excitedly about their plans for the next few days on the surface and others silently planning their next moves.

“Laios and Falin are planning on heading up to go take care of some business, but I think I’m ready for some pleasure!” you laugh out, taking the last swig of the drink in your glass. You set it down with an aggressive click, the sound jerking Chilchuck from his reverie beside you. The two of you had grown rather close over your shared drinking habits, often staying up into the wee hours drinking and chatting amongst yourselves.

Chilchuck furrows his brow at you and scowls slightly.

“You can keep that to yourself,” he scoffs, turning back to the meager portion of food he had been chasing around his plate for a while.

“Wellllll…you of all people should know there’s no greater pleasure than a cold drink and some hot, greasy, fried food,” you relent. Chilchuck’s stomach growls and he groans. “Other pleasures usually follow~”

“Like being chained to the toilet and dealing with your needy, drunk ass all night?” he questions, brushing off the last comment with a sense of disgust. Your nose wrinkles in response.

“Well, hopefully not at the same time!” This causes him to snort out a semblance of a dry laugh.

“I’m hoping we’ll wind up at different taverns anyway, I need a break from all of you,” the rogue raises his gloved hand to gesture around the room. Just as you start to jokingly pout at him, he points straight at you. “Especially you.”

Despite the two of you growing close after drinking together, he’s become exponentially rude towards you. You find it a bit confusing and heartbreaking at times but understand that it’s not like him to get personal with party members.

“Jeez, ‘Chuck, tell me how you really feel,”

—

The party disbanded early that morning. You and Namari pair off together to explore the town as the Toudens take care of their prior engagements. The two of you regard Chilchuck warmly, but don’t bother to invite him along.

Instead, he went into town to a merchant to sell some of the odd treasures he had picked up in his travels in hopes of procuring a bit of extra copper to fund his big night on the surface…

He examined the money he had on him and sighed. It was more than enough for him, but he wanted the extra… ‘for what?’

‘Surely not for…?’ He’d put the thought to rest as soon as it crossed his mind. He stuffs the heavy bag of coins back into his satchel and heads back into the town’s square.

—

“Oh Namari, this would look perfect on you!” you gush over an embroidered cotton tunic that you found hanging in the window of a storefront. “I think they even do alterations here if you really want it,”

Namari shrugs, brushing off the idea altogether.

“I’ve got a clean set of casual clothes in my bag so I don’t really need to spend what I’ve got on that. We’ve still got to get a room, eat, and drink tonight,” she reminds you.

“Ah, yeah,” you respond, a little disappointed that you couldn’t go shopping for new clothes with Namari. She’s very practical as you’ve learned. “I still want to try to find something nice for tonight, if that’s okay with you?”

She agrees to go on and book a room while you go inside the store and shop around. As a fighter, your clothes have been torn up quite a bit from the countless dungeon brawls you’ve been in. Your pants are torn at the knee, armor rusted and dented in places, and anything white holds the telltale brown of blood. As your calloused hand snags against the soft sleeve of a light olive green dress, you find just the thing to wear.

You find yourself hoping you both chose the same bar.

—

Namari moans in relief face first into the down-y pillow. Her freshly washed red hair sticks to her forehead as she lifts her head up to turn towards the bathroom door as you walk out in a towel.

“What’s nicer, having a bed or a real bath for once?” you joke, flopping down on the bed situated opposite of hers.

“Both are pretty damn good, honestly,”

“I’ll drink to that,”

There are the telltale signs of a band warming up downstairs and the unmistakable smell of food that wafts up. She peels herself up from the bed and makes the descent downstairs to scope out the festivities for the night as you take the time to get ready.

Your body is still riddled with cuts, bruises, and broken skin, all of it superficial. Sometimes you just don’t have the tolerance to sit still and let someone heal you. The dress’s sleeves are long and off of your shoulders, and the skirt is long and flowing. There was nothing flashy about it, but it still made you feel confident and pretty.

You haven’t felt that way in a long time.

—

It’s no surprise that Chilchuck found his way to the tavern, the promises of music and the inviting smell of the food from outside drew him in nearly immediately. There were loads of people, a clear view of a dance floor, and plenty of patrons lined up along the bar. He was ready for his good time, sauntering in with a cool and calm stride right up to the bar to secure his order for the night.

His mind wanders to relaxation and the array of activities available to him tonight. With enough drink coursing through him, he’d take a shot at cutting up the dance floor. His eyes bounced between the locals and other adventurers that were passing through, not recognizing most. His eyes lay on a mess of red hair hunched over a table in the corner and he breathes a relieved sigh.

…didn’t he need a break from his co-workers?

“Oi, Namari!” the half-foot calls out, showing off a full bottle of wine and a food ticket detailing his dinner order. Namari waves him over excitedly and kicks out an empty chair for him. “You’ve got the right idea, tonight!”

“Damn straight! Got a room here and everything,” the redhead gloats, finishing off the last little bit of ale in her own mug. As she smacks it down on the table, she jerks her head to the side to gesture towards the other end of the bar that was in eyesight. “Someone needs to let ‘miss priss’ know that I’m not third wheeling tonight, no matter how drunk this guy gets her!”

Chilchuck raises his eyebrow and glances towards the scene in question, almost expecting an entirely different outcome even though he knew that you and Namari were sharing a room tonight.

You were perched at the bar on a high stool, your new dress draped down to flutter around your crossed legs. Your toe tapped along to the music as you were locked in conversation with a fellow tall-man. The guy was above average in the looks department, giving off a clean-cut vibe that you normally would not go for at all. His copper got you drinks, and drinks got him a conversation.

…NOT companionship.

He sees the way that you smile at this guy and he immediately knows it's disingenuous. In the dungeon, the smile you have as you fight alongside him is cracking and goofy, but definitely not tight-lipped and wry. Anyone who knew you would know this was some act.

Laios would call it akin to a mating ritual. Chilchuck calls it bullshit.

Your nervous glances as the blond touches your arm are darting yet subtle enough to be mistaken as butterflies. Your skin was flushed because of the amount of drinks you’d already had, not because you were flattered by any of the drivel this guy spoke to you.

‘If he calls you ‘beautiful’ one more time, things might get…ugly?’

He couldn’t tell if he wanted to smack you or the pushy guy that’s taking all of your attention. Chilchuck would never participate in the active harm of a party member, his job is obviously to prevent it, but GODS did he want you to get a grip.

Was he…jealous?

“Well, that’s annoying,” he says, not only saying it in reference to you, but to the nagging feeling now bouncing around his thoughts. He didn’t get into the personal lives of his fellow party members, openly detesting the idea of interpersonal relationships taking place in the dungeon.

But, this isn’t the dungeon…and you’re not working…

He takes a loooonnng sip from the bottle. Namari chuckles and claps a hand down on his shoulder as she scoots past him to go get another refill.

“If looks could kill, huh?” she teases.

—

The mask was truly coming off as the night dragged on. Jaunty music played as the bar-goers swung each other around. Every time the music dipped to a slower song, you were clearly not having it.

The ‘it’ being anything else to do with this guy. Dinner came and went, a meal that would have been picked clean by now was left growing cold on the bar as you dizzily weaved through the dancers to get back to your spot. Quickly, you scooped the plate and utensils into your hands and tried to make a break for Namari’s table. A hand skirts along your lower back and you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Need some help, beautiful?” Chilchuck sneers from your side, offering to expertly guide you through the crowd without much incident. You roll your eyes and glance down at the smaller man.

“If I hear that word one more time, I’ll probably go insane,” you complain, glancing over your shoulder for the creep in question. “You know, he tried to read my pulse to see if I was nervous earlier…”

“He was probably checking to see how easy it would be to skin you alive later,” Chilchuck says dryly, wiggling his fingers in a mockingly menacing way. You groan in response and wipe the sweat from your brow. Your fingers pinch it slightly in frustration as you begin to recount the events of the night.

“Too bad you didn’t want me to spend time with you, I’d much rather have been with you instead of going through all that,” you say, flopping into the chair Namari left behind and kicking your feet up. You end up digging into your food voraciously, the temperature is tepid but not entirely cold and inedible.

You get a bit of barbecue sauce on your chin, but not enough to where it would fall down onto your dress.

Were you really that tipsy?

“You realize that was a joke, right?” He looks away from you and out towards the crowd, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink in embarrassment. Your confused look was too much, an innocent shock washing over you as if you thought it was the truth.

“Well, you’ve been real rude to me lately, I figured you ACTUALLY had a problem with me!” you argue between bites, your tone indignant like a child’s. He scoffs and bites back a laugh, actually trying to fuck with you on this one.

“Yeah, I despise you!”

“I’m getting mixed signals here,”

“You’re a liar, you kick ass all the time in the dungeon and then try to act like a lady the second you step foot out of it. I’ve seen you covered in monster guts, and this is scarier to me,” He gestures to the outfit.

“Shit ‘Chuck, forgive me for wanting to wear something pretty for ya…”

“Well, you’ve already got my attention, you can drop the act now.”

You look at the way his face is completely flushed and it all begins to make sense. You distracted yourself from the half-foot’s hot and cold treatment, you curbed your expectations within your working relationship and completely ignored that even though he wasn’t one to share his feelings…he still had them.

“So, when I said that thing about ‘pleasure…’”

“I didn’t want to wind up watching someone else take you home…or to Namari’s room…or whatever! I wanted to hang out, to drink, and things to just stay the way they were,” he fusses, getting up from his chair and walking towards you. He tenderly grabs your chin and turns your face up towards him. Between him standing in front of you and where you sat at the table, you were nearly eye to eye…

Surely, this wasn’t…!

He takes the cloth napkin and wipes the sauce from your chin.

“I care a lot about you…and I don’t like seeing you make stupid decisions,” he confesses, still holding your face in his gloved hand. You find yourself having a hard time keeping a straight face. “...What’s that dumbass look on your face for?! I like you, I swear!”

“I’m drunk and this is hilarious,”

“You could say it back!”

“I like you too, ‘Chuck…I swear,” you reply, placing your hand on top of his. Your face cracks into that goofy smile he likes so much and he can’t help but to sigh.

…If only you weren’t in public.

The crowd at the bar had dwindled down to only a few remaining patrons, some at the bar were still engrossed in conversation with the bartender and others were finishing up their rousing and complicated game of cards. Namari was still nowhere to be found and Chilchuck shrugs as you look around the tavern for her again.

“She’s outside, surely,” he says, pushing his chair in. As you get up, you stumble slightly and grab onto the chair for support. “I’ll help you up. You’re still pretty tipsy, huh?”

“Yeah, but that’s what I get for trying to keep up with you,” you chuckle, reaching out to him for support. His arm supports your lower back, his hand is on your hip as he walks you towards the stairs. You were all legs and curves to him, but he didn’t mind as long as you didn’t fall on top of him…

…without his consent of course.

The other key to the room was tucked haphazardly into your brassiere. How it hadn’t fallen out onto the dance floor at any point was so beyond you, but you were just happy you weren’t locked out after all.

“I’ve still got to find a place for tonight,” Chilchuck realizes, forgetting about it altogether in all of the excitement.

“Honestly, I could probably hide you under the covers,” you joke, albeit rooted in truth. “I’d really like it if you’d stay though…”

“And incur the wrath of Namari? I like you, but not that much,”

“Fair enough,”

—

The two of you spend the night chatting and sobering up in each other’s arms. You fall asleep first, Chilchuck shortly after. The oil lamp’s glow lights the room dimly, neither of you had made a move to turn it off.

The door’s lock unlatches and Namari flings it open excitedly, a new longsword glinting proudly in her arms. “--oh you TOTALLY owe me now, but I got a great deal on the perfect longsword for-”

Her voice trails off as she sees you stir and another body that follows suit…

End Notes: I hope you enjoyed the fic! I've got some ideas for a continuation in the future if folks are interested teehee

I'm still working on becoming a more confident writer, so I'm hoping y'all will stick around for my growth! Minor edits will be made if I find any mistakes and constructive criticism is always appreciated! (Just don’t be an ass about it 👀)

Credits: Dividers by @/cafekitsune, cover art from 'Daydream Hour' scans

🖤 Rules | Ask Box | Masterlist 🖤

#dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims x reader #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck tims #x reader #reader insert #oneshot #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon reader insert #chilchuck x reader #my writing

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in-loving-memory-of · 6 months

Text

Takashi Morinozuka x fem reader -> crush/early dating stage head-canons (sfw)

honestly, i fuckn hate hcs, but i’m gonna put them out there anyway, since mine are simply better cuz i said so

- Takashi isn’t the type of guy to just go up to a girl and ask her out because he thinks she’s cute or anything, so you would 100% have to start off as friends before he made a move (and even then, you’d probably be waiting a while)

- Probably would not initiate a conversation with you on his own (shocking)

- I could see Honey noticing Takashi’s special interest in a girl and deciding to talk to her, and maybe even invite her to the club

- If he did this with Takashi present, he’d be super nervous but secretly grateful that his cousin set him up, cuz lord knows it wouldn’t have happened otherwise

- Once Honey had Takashi’s crush engaged in a conversation, he’d start trying to, not so subtly, gauge whether or not she’s a good fit for Takashi

- If Honey doesn’t like you, then you don’t get to be with Takashi, period.

- If anyone asks at any point during your friendship if Takashi has feelings for you, he’ll either outright deny it or just stay silent, even though it’d be super obvious to anyone who knows him to any capacity

- He would be more engaged in conversations with you than anyone else, MAYBE aside from Honey

- He’d help with anything he thought you may be struggling with (you don’t even have to ask)

- Need help finding something? He’s got you. Pickle jar too hard to open? No problem. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? Well, thank god a certain giant has nothing better to do (he was just admiring you anyway)

- Once the club catches on, any possible privacy the two of you had is gone. Especially if they can tell the feelings are reciprocated

- Tamaki, the twins, and Honey would all try to get the both of you into situations where you’d be alone together, or they’d talk about how cute you would be together, or how cute your kids would be, etc.

- Even before a relationship begins, Takashi will think it’s disloyal or unfaithful to interact flirt with any other girls, so he would be extra quiet during club hours (unless you’re there 🥰)

- Speaking of relationships, when Takashi does finally ask you out, expect it to be a simple question, such as: “Would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow?” or something similar. He’d probably do so when you two are completely alone (mostly so the other club members don’t try to trail you on your date)

- If the date went well, and he felt like you were interested afterwards, that’s when he’d ask you to be his girlfriend.

- The poor guy’s heart would be pounding out of his chest and he’d be blushing like crazy, which would only get worse when if you said yes

- Once you’re official, any reservations he previously had regarding closeness are gone. He wants to hold your hand and just be near you all the time

- He’s not into the PDA shit, though. It’s not like he’d pull you into a make out sesh in public, but he does like to be near you at all times

- Honey absolutely loves that Takashi found someone he truly cares for, especially since he thinks you’re fun to be around, so he and Takashi can still be close as ever

- The other members (mainly Tamaki) are ecstatic about the relationship as well

- Seeing their normally stoic friend all head over heals for you is just too sweet

- Once you start dating, it isn’t long before he wants you over to meet his parents and vice versa

- He doesn’t even see it as a huge step or anything. I mean, of course he wants his family to meet his darling partner

———————————————————————

Alright, I’m gonna call this a part one, and basically just write others to be more tailored to a reader with specific personality traits, cuz writing so vaguely is driving me insane.

(I have no writing experience, but I promise I’ll try harder next time, so hopefully they’ll get better after this 😭)

If there’s anything specific you want to see, feel free to request headcanons or fics for Takashi (or any of the other characters for that matter), as that’ll make it way easier to write something worthwhile lmao

#takashi morinozuka #takashi morinozuka x reader #ohshc #ouran high school host club #mori senpai #ohshc mori #headcanon #my hcs #romance #dating #anime and manga

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hellodarling1357 · 9 months

Note

Can i ask for Cassian x reader fic where the reader becomes friends with Bryaxis?👀

Like someday she decides to go down to the lower part of the library and meet the monster everyone is so afraid of... and finds Bryaxis, silly guy who just wants some friend to talk to. And the reader begins to visit him from time to time, chatting nicely and just having a good time

And poor Cassian so stressed out with these two😮‍💨

Friend and Foe

Hello!! Thank you for sending me this request, it was so much fun to write!! Sorry it took me so long but hopefully the Domestic Cassian makes up for it, we love a man who can cook 🥹

Bryaxis really is just a silly, goofy guy

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 3.1k

After being mated for all of two months, Cassian had basically begged you to move into the House of Wind with him. It really hadn’t taken much convincing, especially after Rhysand had ensured you that you wouldn’t be imposing.

So the very next day, your belongings were all packed, Rhys using his magic to move them for you, and Cassian was helping you do a final sweep over your old apartment, barely containing his excitement as he reassured you, yet again, that everything was sorted.

“Okay, I think I’m good. Ready to go?” You asked with a final glance around the room.

Cassian, who had given up on trying to convince you to stop fussing and had instead decided to sit on the floor by the window, jumped up with a broad grin stretched across his face.

“About time.” He teased, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, your forehead, then your nose, before wrapping an arm around your waist as he led you outside.

As soon as you had locked the door behind you, Cassian was scooping you into his arms and leaping into the sky, flying you towards your new home.

*****

You had been to the House of Wind multiple times, but this time felt different; you weren’t going there to visit Cassian, you were going there to live with him, to start your life with him.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, pressing kisses along it as he tightened his grip on you, quickly approaching the balcony that jutted out of the mountain.

Upon landing, you prepared yourself for Cassian to place you back on your feet. Instead, he shot you another wide grin and walked towards the balcony doors with you still in his arms, not letting you down until you had crossed the threshold.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He softly said before pulling you in for a kiss.

You smiled against his lips, realisation finally hitting that this would be your everyday from now on, the thought causing you to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him further down to you.

“Now, please remember,” Rhysand’s voice drawled, “this is still a shared space.”

You broke away from your mate, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, but Cassian simply looked annoyed at the interruption.

Giving him a sheepish smile you, for the hundredth time, thanked Rhys for letting you move in.

“Don’t mention it, it’ll be good to have you around.” He brushed off as Azriel entered the room.

“Especially if it means we no longer have to listen to Cassian complaining about how much he misses you, how far away you are, how—” But the Shadowsinger was cut off by Cassian throwing a book at his head and shooting him a glare.

You grinned at them all and laughed alongside Rhys, surprised at how quickly you had grown comfortable around Cassian’s brothers after only really meeting them a few weeks ago.

“Anyway,” Rhys interrupted, picking up on the taunt that was seconds from escaping Azriel’s lips, “We were just heading off. Figured we’d give you the night to…settle in”

With a wink at you and a teasing ruffle of Cassian’s hair, the two males made their way out towards the balcony before flapping their wings and heading towards Velaris.

“So…” Cassian started, eyeing you with an intensity that you had first seen after accepting the bond. “Where should we start?”

You knew he wasn’t talking about unpacking.

*****

It had been three months since you had moved into the House of Wind. Cassian had made space in his room for all of your belongings and the two of you had set out redecorating it together to make a space of your own.

You had fallen into a routine, not just with Cassian, but with Azriel as well.

Your mate had decided to take it upon himself to set up a training and defence program for you. But, when he first caught sight of you in your skintight Illyrian leathers, he had quickly decided it wouldn’t be the most productive use of your time and had handed the task over to Azriel instead; although, not before muttering to keep your leathers on for later, with a wink and a pat on your ass as he sauntered back inside.

You had also grown a lot closer to the rest of the Inner Circle, finding that there was always someone floating around if Cassian was away.

Now, however, you slumped into one of the plump armchairs and let out a sigh. Cassian and Azriel were both away checking in on the Illyrian war camps, Mor and Rhys were at the Hewn City, and Amren… you weren’t entirely comfortable spending time alone with her just yet.

Deciding you couldn’t spend another day aimlessly roaming around the house, you made your way towards the library that was built into the mountain.

You had dragged Cassian there after first moving in, spending hours marvelling at all of the books whilst your mate trailed after you, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else. You, however, happily let him follow along, handing him book after book to carry for you with a cheeky grin that he couldn’t say no to.

This visit, however, had you wanting to explore the deeper parts of the library, with a sudden desire to browse through some of the ancient texts that you hadn’t had the chance to peruse yet.

The further down you went, the more intrigued you were by the seemingly never ending darkness that spiraled into the depths of the library.

Whether it was out of boredom or pure curiosity, you pulled one of the swinging lanterns from the wall and let it guide you through the inky black space, the lights from further up growing smaller and smaller with every step, the shelves of books coated in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.

Despite the silence and the darkness of the unknown space, you felt at ease as you reached, what you could only assume to be, the bottom of the black pit.

Edging further into the space, the light coming from your lantern begun to flicker and you tensed at the sudden rustle of movement from behind you.

“Hello?” You cautiously called out, stretching the lantern further out to illuminate more of the room. Straining your ears, you listened closely for the slightest sound of movement, instead, however, a small cluttering sound bounced across the floor and ended by your feet.

Looking down you saw the small stone that had been thrown from the darkest corner of the space. Not quite knowing what to do, you slowly leant down to pick it up, turning it over in your hands a few times as you squinted into the darkness.

There was another quiet rustling noise and then another stone came into view, stopping where the other one had landed.

You picked this one up as well, your expression a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. With a quiet laugh to yourself, you gracefully threw the first stone back into the corner, watching it bounce across the floor before disappearing into the darkness.

A pleased sounding gasp of excitement filled the space around you and then the stone was bouncing back towards you in a hurried manner. You were smiling now, throwing both stones back and waiting with anticipation before they were sent your way again.

Still feeling unsure about playing this game with a creature shadowed by darkness, but not being one to question the weirdness that seemed to live within the Night Court, you sat cross legged on the ground and continued to bounce the stones back and forth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You said into the darkness, feeling somewhat silly and not expecting the reply that followed.

“I know. I’m Bryaxis.” The chilling voice of the darkness replied.

*****

After that initial trip to the pit of the library, you found yourself heading down there at least once a week. You continued your game of throwing the stones back and forth but as the visits built up you found yourself asking questions about the creature and, in return, he provided you with a deep insight into the long forgotten histories of the world.

Walking back into the House of Wind after one of your library trips, you were surprised to find Cassian in the kitchen surrounded by numerous pots and pans and piles of food.

“Hi,” You greeted excitedly, leaning up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re back? I thought you wouldn’t be home for another few days. And you’re cooking?”

Hand still holding a wooden spoon, Cassian turned to face you, his other hand cupping your cheek as he lent down for a kiss.

“Hi,” He said against your lips. “Az took over for me,” Another kiss as he backed you against the counter. “Thought I would surprise you.”

You hummed against him, content in letting him wrap his free arm around your waist as he hoisted you onto the kitchen bench, legs coming up to wrap around his waist as you deepened the kiss and knotted your hands through his hair.

A sudden hissing sound had Cassian jumping back and turning in horror as the pot of boiling water started to splatter out across the stove.

“Where were you, anyway? You weren’t here when I got back.”

Content to have your mate beside you again, you absentmindedly swung your feet as you helped yourself to the pile of cut carrots he had set aside.

“Down in the library.” You answered between mouthfuls.

“Oh?”

You dipped the carrot into the bowl of a sauce looking substance, deciding you liked it and going back for seconds. Cassian, noticing this, flicked your nose and moved the sauce out of reach.

“That’s for later.”

You poked your tongue out as you jumped off the bench and moved to stand next to him as he stirred the still sizzling pot.

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird. A few weeks ago when you were away I got bored and wanted to explore the library a bit more,” Cassian turned his back so you helped yourself to whatever was simmering on the stove, earning your nose another flick and a sound of mock outrage from your mate.

“Anyway,” You continued as you lent against the bench, content in watching him cool for you. “I got right down to the bottom of the pit and met this creature,” You weren’t really sure how to describe your newfound friend, you had never actually seen his true form. “And we’ve sort of become friends, I guess?”

You laughed at the silliness of how it sounded, not noticing how Cassian tensed. “You never mentioned anyone else living in the library, his name is—“

“Bryaxis.” Cassian interjected, looking at you with an expression of horror and concern.

“Yes, that’s him” You said excitedly, still missing your mate’s distress.

“Y/N,” Cassian took your hands in his trembling ones and looked over you as though checking for any signs of harm. “Please tell me you’re joking. Did Rhys set you up?”

You stared back, surprised by his response, “Cass? What’s wrong?” But he didn’t seem to hear you.

“Have you seen him? Are you hurt? Y/N, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m fine? And no, he always stays in the dark. Why are you freaking out?”

But Cassian couldn’t answer, simply pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face in your hair.

“Promise me you won’t go back.”

“Love, you’re starting to scare me—“

“Y/N, I need you to swear it to me. I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on…” He trailed off, the haunted gleam still present in his eyes.

You were stunned by his reaction, not once had you seen Cassian acting so spooked. Sure, he tended to get a bit possessive around other males but this was entirely different, he seemed completely and utterly fearful of the thought of you being in Bryaxis’ presence.

“What happened? He’s never done anything to cause me harm. We just sit and talk and throw stones back and forth… Is there a reason he’s down there?” Maybe you had missed something, and Bryaxis was, in fact, some sort of monster.

Cassian pulled back, still somewhat wary but you could feel the tension leave his body.

“No, he’s always just been there. I had… an encounter with him, years ago—“

“Did he do something to you?” You cut in with concern.

“No, but… You said you haven’t seen him?”

You shook your head, still at a loss for what had brought all of this on.

“Good. Good,” Cassian muttered to himself now, turning back to finish dinner. You silently got some plates out for him to serve up and opened a bottle of wine, still watching your mate from the corner of your eye.

*****

You were both sat at the table but Cassian couldn’t seem to bring himself to eat, merely pushing his food around on his plate.

With a sigh, he looked up at you, “Y/N, you know I’d never usually ask this of you, and be so…,” He trailed off, swirling his wine before taking a sip. “Please, I really don’t want you going back down there.”

Now it was your turn to sigh, putting your fork down as you reached out to grasp his hand.

“How about this, you come down there with me—,” Cassian started to interject but you gave him a warning look to let you finish. “You come down there with me. You can see that he’s not this monster you seem to think he is, and if not, then we’ll talk about it. But I’m not just going to stop visiting, as weird as it sounds, he’s my friend.”

Cassian knew there would be no changing your mind on this, so with a grimace of a smile he reluctantly agreed, sighing at the beam of a smile that lit up your face.

*****

It had taken weeks to get Cassian back into the library, and not for a lack of trying on your part. Whenever you were both not doing anything, you would suggest heading down there. And every time you did, Cassian would suddenly have something he needed to do, or would mercilessly distract you and leave the library as a long forgotten thought in your mind.

This time was going to be different, you refused to let him weasel out of it again.

“Love, what’re you doing right now?” You innocently asked as you sat yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” You expected as much, especially when he lent in and trailed lingering kisses along your neck.

“Good,” You stood up, pulling him with you. “Come with me.”

Your conspiratorial grin had Cassian thinking your mind was on something else, so he eagerly followed after you, pausing when you walked in the opposite direction of your bedroom.

“Sweetheart…?” You just walked back to him, holding his hand and dragging him alongside you.

Once you got to the library entrance, it finally clicked what you were doing.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Cassian.” You said but he was slowly taking backwards steps away from the library door.

“I just remembered, Rhys needed me to—“

“No he doesn’t. I already checked.”

The frantic panic in his eyes had you almost feeling bad about deceiving him. Almost being the key word.

“Cassian,” The commanding tone of your voice had him stopping in his tracks. “If you don’t come down there with me, right now, then there’s no more sex.”

He gave you an unconvinced look, clearly thinking he was calling your bluff.

“I’m serious. This has gone on long enough. No more sex until you go down there. In fact, I’m staying at the town house until it’s done.”

Cassian stared you down with a torn expression of frustration and disbelief. You stared right back, letting out a sigh of relief as you watched determination spread over his face.

“Fine,” He was a man on a mission, marching towards the library and grabbing your hand in his as he walked by to keep you at his side. “Let’s get this over with.”

*****

You didn’t even try to stop your delighted grin as you headed down into the deepest depths of the library.

As the lights flickered and as darkness started to surround you both, you felt Cassian beginning to tense and slow his pace. Refusing to let him change his mind, you sent a wave of emotions down the bond that told him exactly what he would be missing if he bailed on you now. Cassian squeezed your hand in response, his steps picking up as you reached the bottom of the pit.

“Bryaxis?” You called out, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles over Cassian’s hand when you felt him tense up beside you.

There was movement to your left and then the lamp you had brought down with you flickered out. You could feel something curling around you, flicking your hair in a playful manner, causing you to smile. This was going to be fine.

You turned to Cassian to tell him as such, but the chilling voice that you had since grown accustomed to spoke up in a rasp.

“I didn’t think I would be seeing you again. Not after last time, Lord of Bloodshed.”

You sensed, more than saw, your friend move around your mate and that seemed to be too much for Cassian.

“No. No, Y/N, we’re done here.” And then he was holding onto your hand as though his life depended on it and bolted back towards the stairs.

Your confused laugh sounded out and was met by the amused laugh of Bryaxis swirling through the darkness.

“I’ll see you soon, friend.” His voice followed after you, all traces of the harrowing rasp he had used on Cassian was replaced by a genuine fondness.

“I won’t bring him next time,” You replied in farewell, gesturing towards your mate who was frantically trying to drag you away.

Cassian let out a groan. He knew there was nothing he could do to convince you to never come back down here. You gave his hand a reassuring pat, sending a wave of gratitude and love down the bond. You didn’t know what had happened between Cassian and Bryaxis during their last encounter, but at least your mate had tried to face him for you.

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acowar #marley writes

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racinggirl · 8 months

Text

promise

Lando Norris Fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: Oh my godness I'm back y'all! It's been so long! It's the first request of hopefully many to come. So far my inbox is empty again, so don't hold back to send in some requests, one, or more. You can even send some anonymously! I hope you will like this story, and keep reading to find some little extra's I added, because I loved making AU's as well. Let me know your thoughts, tips, tops, anything really. It keeps me motivated to write more, so any form of feedback is very welcomed! Now, sit back, relax, and enjoy this fic 🧡

‘’Promise.’’ You linked your pinkie finger with the 5-year-old curly haired boy, giggling as the both of you were running around the playground, hiding from his mother.

‘’Come on, I’m nearly 25 already! I can easily go on vacation on my own!’’ You had always wanted to go on a road trip, preferably with a partner on your side, but that hadn’t been the case yet. So, you decided to go alone, because why not? You were old enough to look out for yourself, even though your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter traveling around Europe on her own.

‘’The world has changed, Y/N, it’s not safe to go on your own.’’

‘’But-…’’

‘’No, you’re not going on your own, end of story.’’

You groaned at your parents’ reaction and went to your room, frustrated, upset, but somehow you got their point. They weren’t wrong, the world had changed, and wasn’t that innocent anymore. Wherever you were watching the news, reports about murder, drunken drivers, kidnappers, it was all out there.

‘There’re more crazy people out in the world than there are behind bars’ was something your father would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

However, you wished you would have been able to do what that curly haired boy did. Sometimes you were jealous of him, jealous of how he travelled all around the world, going from one country to another, flying from Finland to Australia to Bali and back to his new home, Monaco.

Him and you met when you were karting in Bristol, the both of you loving the sport more than ever. However, karting wasn’t a girl’s sport, at least not to the world at that age. That’s why you moved on from it, where he pursued his dream career, you were only there to cheer from the side lines.

You hated learning, studying, it’s something you never were good at, or at least, not in school. Whenever you saw the data on the karting track, you’d spent hours trying to understand every piece of data that was coming through.

You begged your parents to let you go to engineering school, university. They didn’t want you to, it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, but after you refused to do anything else, they eventually agreed on letting you go to engineering school.

4 years later, and you had your engineering degree. You couldn’t be happier, because right now it meant you might do something you’d actually enjoy. Even if it wasn’t a ‘girl’s thing’ to do, you loved it.

‘’Hey’’ you smiled as you brought the phone close to your ear, lying in bed as you checked the time.

‘’Hey, did you see?’’

‘’Oh yeah, I did.’’ You laughed, looking up at the ceiling. ‘’You were flying! Pole position baby!’’ You giggled, smiling even harder when you heard him on the other side, repeating the final three words of your sentence.

‘’You still have to come for a race someday, you know?’’ His deep voice was ringing through your ears, and it immediately made your chest feel warm, it always did, he always did.

‘’Mhm.. I know, and I will, when my parents finally let me.’’ You sighed, playing with the ropes of your hoodie.

‘’You’re almost 25, when will they ever let you do your own things?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed heavily, ‘’when I’m 40?’’

The sound of his laugh made you sit up straight, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink as you heard his laughter.

‘’Nah, I’ll have you kidnapped by then.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle next. ‘’They’ll destroy you when you do that.’’

‘’Good thing I have my bodyguards, then.’’ And that made your heart feel a thousand times warmer. He was never one to brag about his success, never. He always was very modest, very gentle, and never liked it whenever people talked about the amount of money he had, or how famous he was. That’s why you clicked so good. You knew each other from when you were 3 years old, and he knew you liked him as a friend, and not because he was a driver.

‘’I asked them if I could go on a road trip, alone.’’ You quietly said, hearing how he fumbled around on the other side of the line. A soft ‘hold on, I’m busy’ made you smile, knowing he told whoever was there to wait, because he was talking to you.

‘’And let me guess, they wouldn’t let you go alone because the world is dangerous.’’

‘’Yep, exactly.’’ You sighed but sat up straight when you heard him gasp.

‘’Lando, what did you do?’’

‘’Nothing.’’

‘’What are you thinking?’’

Silence…

‘’Lando?’’

‘’Come with me.’’ You could hear his grin through the phone, and he could hear your brains working overtime because he immediately started to explain himself. ‘’You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me, my team, my crew.’’ He said. ‘’You can travel the world with me, I might even be able to work around some things here to have you here for some sort of internship, so you won’t have any expenses, and you’ll be able to come to the races with me. Your parents know me, I’m not a stranger.’’

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give in because honestly, it was a great idea.

‘’But, and these aren’t my worlds, but you’re famous, Lando, and you-…’’

‘’I’m still the same Lando from 20 years ago.’’

‘’I know, I know that, but my parents don’t, you know how they are…’’

You hated the fact you just basically told him you couldn’t go with him because he was famous, and you hated that word as much as he did. Your parents were always so fond of him, they loved him, but they also always made sure to tell you that he had a lot of money, was very well known around the world and that most famous people weren’t the same people they were before they had the money. They’d say that the fame got to their heads, but it wasn’t the same with Lando. He had always been that giggly, funny, sweet, and caring boy, but simply because he wasn’t around during Christmas dinners, or the traditional ‘start of spring’ picnic, they assumed he felt too good for those kinds of things. You explained to them that he was just busy, that because of his job, the start of spring was in the middle of the start of the season, and that he simply couldn’t make it. But they were your parents, stubborn as always.

‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Hmm, sorry, what?’’ You said, hearing him chuckle on the other side of the phone.

‘’Let me talk to them, okay? Let me try to convince them, because honestly, you wouldn’t be the only one to benefit from that decision.’’ He whispered, causing your cheeks to heat up again.

‘’Okay.’’

‘’Lando?’’ Your parents were surprised to see him at your front step. He promised you he’d come to talk to your parents, and he always keeps his promises.

‘’Y/F/N, Y/M/N, it’s been a while, it’s good to see you again.’’ He was always very polite. Calling your parents by their first name was something you always did; you did the same with Adam and Cisca.

It was a good conversation, you occasionally tried to mix yourself into it. A reassuring smile from the curly haired boy made you confident enough to speak up to your parents, and this time, with success, because only a few weeks after your conversation you were packing your clothes.

One year. For one year you’d join Lando with his journey around the world. You had no idea how he did it, and especially this fast, but he had managed to give you an internship position at McLaren, meaning you could come along to the races, the dream scenario for every Lando-girl out there.

‘’You’re the best, you know?’’ You laughed, placing your phone on the bed as you zipped up your suitcases. Instead of living here in London with your parents for a year, you and him both decided it would be the best if you would live in his apartment near Woking. It was still close to home, and to the factory.

He was the best one could imagine, and you knew he was, because he was always there, and he always kept his promises.

You put your phone away and collected the things you had to before ordering a taxi to head straight to the airport. You had been living in his apartment for almost 2 weeks now, and things were good, they were great. He occasionally came to Woking for work, but also to spend time with you. You were best friends ever since, and nothing could ever change that.

The moment you arrived on the airport you felt it again. Those feelings you have been trying to ignore the moment they appeared again, the moment your brain wandered off and thought of him. He always made you feel that way, but you ignored it, always. It might sound cliché, and you hated thinking about it because in every romance book it got romanticized. Having feelings for your best friend never worked out great, except in those books.

But reality is, you’re not living in a book, you’re living in the real world, and it was dangerous. Feelings weren’t mutual all the time, and you didn’t want to find out if it was the case this time because you didn’t want to get your heart broken, so being friends made you be close, feel good without the heartbreak ending it.

It went quick, you got in the jet and 1 hour and a few minutes later you were already back on the ground. He was right, it was faster. Of course he was right, he always was, and that made you fall for him even more, how silly it may sound.

He had texted you, saying he was waiting in his car because of the fans wandering at the airport. Someone spotted his car on the way here, and the FBI agents they are, they immediately put one and one together. He was picking up someone, or his girlfriend, something most fans would say.

‘’Hey.’’ You smiled as you embraced him in a tight hug, he smelled good, he always did. A mix of Dior Sauvage and his own scent made you inhale his scent deeply. It felt like home. You explained him that mixing 3 very expensive perfumes wasn’t making him smell 3 times better, he used to mix most of his perfumes until you made that comment. He asked which one you liked the most, and ever since you mentioned Sauvage all he wore was that. But you never noticed the reason was because you mentioned it, you always thought he simply liked that fragrance the most.

‘’Hey, how was the flight?’’ He opened your car door after helping you put the suitcase in his trunk, the real gentleman he was, and hopped in the driver’s seat.

‘’Amazing, the most relaxing flight I’ve ever had.’’ You sighed, putting on your seatbelt before looking over at him, how he started the car and drove out of the parking garage.

You talked more, about the flight, about how things were at the apartment, his apartment here in Monaco, you even talked about your plans these next upcoming days.

‘’We’ll go to London tomorrow.’’ He whispered. The both of you were laying on his couch in his apartment here in Monaco. Instead of watching TV, you had moved the couch so you both could see the harbour, and the sun setting in the ocean.

The couple of weeks you had been here were the best you ever experienced. You did many things, from shopping to karting in Italy, a day at the beach in France, simracing and even streaming. You made chat very clear you were best friends and nothing more, but when people in chat started to ask about his feelings, and about yours, he told you, quietly, to not answer and ignore them, whatever that might have meant.

‘’Really?’’ Your smile grew wider when he mentioned that. It would be your birthday in 2 days, and you always spent your birthday at home, with your family and friends. Last year he couldn’t make it, as the season started the day your birthday was, but this year he made his way around it. Your birthday was on Tuesday, so Wednesday you’d both fly with his jet to Bahrein for the first race of the year.

‘’Mhm, I wouldn’t want to break your birthday tradition.’’ He smiled, his lips placing a tender kiss on your temple. You were lying when you said your feelings towards him hadn’t grown these couple of weeks with him in Monaco. Everything he did gave you tinglings in your stomach and you couldn’t help ignoring them anymore. You surrendered to the fact you had a crush on him, you liked your best friend, and it was the best feeling ever.

‘’Happy Birthday!’’ Your parents were waiting in the living room when you entered the house. They decorated the entire room with balloons, garlands, and pictures from your first till your 24th birthday.

‘’Smile!’’ They held the camera out in front of you, and you immediately felt an arm wrapped around your shoulder. This caused your smile to grow even wider.

‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple as his scent immediately went through your nose.

‘’Thank you…’’ You whispered, looking into his bright eyes and immediately looking down after, trying to hide the fact you were blushing because of his actions.

Later that evening, after you spent time with your family and friends, you and Lando went back to his apartment. You got many gifts, and you couldn’t be happier about this day.

‘’How was your day?’’ You felt the vibrations of his deep voice going through your entire body, leaning against him as you were seated on the couch of his apartment.

‘’Amazing.’’ You smiled. ‘’Couldn’t be better.’’

‘’Oh, but I think it can.’’ He reached for something in his bag, and once he got the box, he handed it to you. ‘’Happy Birthday, beautiful.’’ He whispered again, watching how you opened the box slowly.

You pulled the black coloured leash that was hanging from the side of the box and gently placed it on the table in front of you. You lifted the lid and grabbed the small bag inside of the box.

‘’Lando.’’ You gasped, touching the velvet bag and opening it slowly. Tears were burning in your eyes at this point, because you realised he made all this effort to get the perfect gift for you. And he succeeded because it was more than perfect.

‘’This is way too crazy.’’ You whispered, feeling how he moved your hair to the side, helping you clipping the silver Swarovski necklace around your neck.

‘’Look inside.’’ He said, tucking some hair away from your face with his fingers, causing your nervousness to grow even more.

You opened the necklace and smiled when you saw the picture inside. It immediately gave you flashbacks, because even though you were only 4 and 5 years old, it was the brightest memory you had from the two of you.

FLASHBACK

‘’Dating is stupid! Kissing is stupid!’’ You laughed when you were seated on the swing, holding tightly when Lando pushed you carefully.

‘’I know! My mommy and daddy kiss when daddy comes home from work and it’s so weird!’’ He laughed, making sure you wouldn’t fall from the swing.

‘’Lando! Y/N! Come on, it’s time to go home!’’ You heard Cisca calling for the both of you, and you jumped off the swing immediately.

‘’Come on, run!’’ He held your hand and while the both of you laughed, you ran to the playground, hiding from Lando’s mom. ‘’Shhh..’’

You stayed there for almost 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity when you’re just 4 years old. ‘’I have an idea.’’ The curly haired boy smiled and held your hand tightly.

‘’Okay, tell me!’’ You giggled.

‘’When we’re both 25 and we’re still single, I’ll ask you to marry me.’’ He smiled, causing you to giggle and laugh, him doing the same. ‘’Okay!’’

‘’Lando! Y/N, come on we have to go, it’s getting dark!’’ You ran away again, running around the playground as you linked your pinkie finger with him. ‘’Promise’’.

END OF FLASHBACK

After he clipped the necklace around your neck, he took a hold of your hand and grabbed the second box in his bag. He kneeled in front of you, a smile on his lips as he opened the box with one hand.

‘’Marry me.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not now, don’t worry. But one day. You know I am a man of my word, and I still remember that day so well.’’ He smiled, looking at your necklace and then back into your eyes. He always maintained eye contact with you, and it made you feel safe and secure, because you know you can trust those eyes.

‘’I’ve been counting the days till your birthday, knowing that the day you turned 25, I was able to ask this question. I’m lying when I say I was hoping you wouldn’t find someone to be by your side, because, and maybe I’m being selfish, but I want to be that man. It’s too fast to immediately ask you to marry me, because I can’t force you to say yes, but God… Y/N. See this as a promise ring. See this as a promise ring that we’ll be together, that I’ll be the man in your life that makes you the happiest you’ll ever be.’’

Tears were streaming down your face as you listened to every word he said. Every word chosen so carefully yet so chaotically, because this is the moment you knew you weren’t the only one feeling this intense love for him. He felt it for you, too.

You answered him by cupping his cheeks with your hands and doing the one thing you have been dreaming of doing for almost 22 years. You kissed him, his lips moving on yours almost instantly caused you to smile against his lips, him following your movements. This kiss was something else, something that made all the butterflies in your stomach explode with fireworks, like they were all holding a fairy light and lighting them all at the same time.

‘’I love you, Lando, I always have, and I’m so glad I can finally say it out loud now.’’ You giggled, feeling his hand reaching for yours and the ring slipped around your finger so effortlessly.

‘’I love you too, and I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.’’ He whispered before pressing his lips on yours again, firmly, full of love.

2 years later

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needtoloveoutloud · 2 months

Text

Shadows Of Our Past, Present, and (possible) Future — Series

My Hero Academia — Female!OC Fanfiction on AO3

Part One (Completed — 93k words):

The one where Shota Aizawa stumbles upon a back alley full of stray cats and ends up adopting a child

“Fine, then a cat? We both know how much you love those little furry…things.” At this, Shota paused the game and turned to the pushy blonde next to him. “I actually have considered that.” “And?” “And: also, no. It makes no sense.” Hizashi looked almost scandalized. “Makes no sense?” “I made a pro and contra list.” “Of course you did.”

When underground hero Shota Aizawa, twenty-two years old, is out on patrol one Friday evening, he doesn't expect that a single meow from a cat would lead him to find a homeless girl called Yoru. From then on, Yoru and Shota grow up together, make mistakes together, and try to overcome every obstacle life throws at them.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Part Two (Ongoing, regular updates — growing long fic — 246k words so far — READ PART 1 FIRST, PLEASE AND THANK YOU):

The one where Yoru Aizawa tries to navigate through life at U.A.

Two days after her fifteenth birthday, Yoru decides to drop the bomb on him. “I want to go to U.A.” “You want to go to U.A.” Her Dad puts the book he's been reading down on the glass balcony table. “Yes, I want to go to U.A.” She slumps down on the outdoor couch next to him, grabbing the discarded book. “What are you reading?” ‘A Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi — The classic guide to strategy ’. She raises an eyebrow. “Reading that for fun, huh?” “Why do you want to go to U.A.? You never cared much about heroes. Besides Edgeshot, that is.” Yoru smirks up at him. “What, jealous?” “As if.” “You know, even if they sold Eraserhead posters, I wouldn’t hang them up. It would be super weird.” “Good to know where your loyalties lie.” He rolls his eyes. “Back to the topic at hand, why do you want to go to U.A.? Because Shinso wants to go?” “No.” Pause. “Okay, that may be part of it. But I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I really want to go.” “That might be so, but you still neglected to tell me why you want to attend there.” Yoru plays with her hair, noting how it’s time for another hair cut when she finds some splint ends. “I wanna be a hero.” Her Dad blinks. “A hero?” “Yes. Well, I want to help people and do some good with that shitty quirk of mine.”

When Yoru tells her Dad that she wants to attend U.A., she expects it to be a difficult path. She didn't expect all the awkwardness, blossoming friendships, confusing feelings, and near-death experiences, though.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Please heed the warnings/tags (TWs in the author's notes of chapters where they apply to).

This story is a mix of:

Slice of life

Hurt/Comfort

Angst/Fluff

Humor

Dadzawa

SLOW BURN Romance — Enemies to Lovers (Bakugo x Yoru)

Growing up, coming of age (hopefully lol)

Teenage awkwardness

Mixed media (pictures, music, chat screenshots (later on in Part 2), etc. — chat screenshots will always have the written text below, to make it accessible for visually impaired folks or people who use screen readers)

Author: NoBecksPleaseNo on AO3

Please don't copy the work, the character, the premise, etc. Also, no cross-posting anywhere, please and thank you.

Disclaimer: Yoru's image is AI generated and then edited/adjusted by the author. The other character images in the header are from Pinterest (besides the one of Present Mic/Midnight, that one's from the light novels) — unfortunately without a source. If you're the artist, and you're not okay with me using them, please message me and I will remove them. If you're the artist and are okay with me using them, please tell me, so I can credit you.

Besides the OC characters, I don't own any already existing characters from the My Hero Academia Universe — that honor belongs to Kohei Horikoshi.

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discordantwritings · 7 months

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Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader

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allwaswell16 · 29 days

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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in August 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here!Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #65 | ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis / Harry -

🌤️Your A-Team, Your Endgame by @silverkiiwii

(E, 70k, reality show au) a Next In Fashion au where Louis and Harry are partnered in the competition but they do not get along when they have to if they want to win. Full of fashion, banter, misunderstanding and a whole lot of making each other blush.

🌤️ Groupie Love by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(E, 45k, m/f) In other words, Louis is a rock star on a world tour and Harry is a regular attendee. They could never work.

🌤️ But I know you by Thingssicant / @slowlyseducedbycurls

(NR, 26k, space) Harry is a journalist, Louis is an astronaut, but it's way more complicated than that

🌤️ You Can't Change The Rolling Tide by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(M, 24k, summer) Louis lives on a tiny island off the coast of England and runs a sailboat touring company. When Niall is sidelined for the summer after his knee surgery, Louis needs a temporary new partner. Who better to fill that role than Harry, recently returned to the island after five years away?

🌤️ At your service, for your usage (series) by @holdingontochaos

(E, 16k, sex work) Louis is a doctor who works so much that he has barely any time to himself for pleasure, let alone to clean his house so he hires Harry as his naked maid and kills two birds with one stone.

🌤️ the past might be painful, but i’m in love with our future by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 10k, part 2 of trans Louis verse) it takes a lot of convincing for louis to let harry take him to his first pride. harry understands his worries and fears. really, he does. he just wants to show his boyfriend that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

🌤️ never just the tip by journeytothepast / @suckerforhome

(E, 6k, omegaverse) Harry believes alphas can't control themselves. Louis proves him wrong.

🌤️ You Put the Boom Boom Into My Heart by @kingsofeverything

(T, 5k, historical) Harry's been trying all summer to come up with a way to show Louis how much he means to him before he leaves for college. Or five times Harry fails to win Wham! tickets and one time he succeeds.

🌤️ The Island by @jaerie

(E, 5k, part 2 of The Wilds) Researchers plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. But they weren't animals and they all had a story of how they got here.

🌤️ Dear Louis by callmenine

(E, 5k, famous/not famous) The one where Harry is a popstar having an existential crises and writes a song for his high school ex-boyfriend Louis after more than ten years of no contact.

🌤️ Let the Feeling Last by @allwaswell16

(T, 5k, unhinged pet fic) Omega Harry thinks the alpha at the grocery store buying a cart full of vegetables must be an amazing chef. He doesn't know that Alpha Louis is feeding all those vegetables to his pet pig.

🌤️ Stars over Amsterdam by @hellolovers13

(T, 4k, exes) Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex. Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

🌤️ (on the edge until) you pull me in by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 3k, fantasizing) His dick is not about to fall off, thank you very much, Niall, but it has been a while since he’s had time for a wank.

🌤️ i'm going out tonight by @disgruntledkittenface

(M, 3k, established relationship) Louis hasn’t been appreciating his boyfriend Harry. He only realizes it when Harry takes matters into his own hands.

🌤️ I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours, wanna be yours) by @dreaminrainbows

(E, 3k, pwp) Harry studies his sixteen year old self’s face for a long moment and it's truly pathetic how in fourteen years nothing has really changed.

🌤️ the sign on your heart (it's reserved for me) by moon_rose25 / @darkinfinity

(G, 3k, kid fic) The one where Louis Tomlinson is a single dad and is finally allowing himself to start dating. Insert Harry Styles, a charming coffee shop owner who sweeps him off his feet.

🌤️ HOT TO GO! by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, famous/not famous) When Harry does something weird at the barricade, he leaves Louis’ show devastated and hoping he can somehow make things right. Or the accidental pervert fic

🌤️ Gotta Feeling by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, tour guide Louis) When Harry's life in Manchester isn't turning out the way he thought it would, he decides to visit his best friend in Mexico City. Maybe Niall can convince him to move halfway around the world.

🌤️ Ice, Ice, Baby by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 1k, meet cute) Figure skater Harry takes Louis out on the ice for the first time

- Rare Pairs -

🌤️ Like A Force Of Nature by @reminiscingintherain

(T, 30k, Zayn/Liam) the Heartstopper AU no one asked for.

🌤️ The Grundy County Drag Show Incident by @haztobegood

(T, 3k, Zayn/Liam) Holding a wireless mic in her gloved hand, Veronica Stardust owned the stage. She was one of the most vocally talented drag queens in the Midwest. Part 2 of Grundy County Incidents

#28th appreciation #ficrec #1dsquad #1dficvillage #Larry fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #hltracks #hlcreators #hljournal

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emsgwenstan · 8 months

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The letter

FLUFF babes, wholesome happy ending kinda fic, but if u know me there’s always a dash of angst thrown in. LOVE CONFESSION!

Words: 1.5-2k

Warnings: non just anxiety.

———

You had to do it, it was killing you not to. There you were hands trembling smoothing down your hair and picking the invisible lint of your black v-neck’s long sleeves, your vision almost blurring due to the nerves. The piece of paper that lay on the dressers surface crumpled and worn already, every night you would reread your words over and over as if trying to memorise a script, it’s been a week since you had written the letter and the only thing to come of it was nightmares of how wrong this could go.

The plan of attack is to go find Larissa, preferably in her office confined in privacy and confess the two years of emotions to her, what will happen next is beyond you. Standing from the edge of your bed and stimming your hands as if to shake away the impending panic attack you pace to the mirror to straighten your silver necklace and fix any possible discrepancies with your simple make up.

Larissa and yourself had a great relationship, well friendship. You enrolled as an art and outcast history teacher two years ago and since then the dynamic between the two of you has been nothing short of amazing and domestic, you would go shopping in Burlington once a month and occasionally go out for dinner every Friday, as well as the random night caps that prolonged for longer then they should leading into the early hours of the morning on a school night.

Larissa had been adverse to opening up for the first six months or so, never really wanting to rely or put her trust into someone who could possibly hurt or cause harm to her feelings, understandably of course, the first personal conversation she really initiated was about previous experiences with friendships and or relationships, mortica and Marilyn being just examples. You though, seemed to understand her on a different level, having shared the same kind of difficulties, ranging from friends to past lovers and many otherwise distasteful people. She caught onto how understanding and empathetic your were, the fact that you listened and heard what she was trying to say, but not in the way other staff would listen, you didn’t show any kind of frightened emotion because of her authority, instead you saw her for her, you saw her as Larissa not principal Weems.

Finally with enough courage mustered, you snatch the letter and exit your quarters making the nerve wracking trek to her office. It’s about 6:30 when you leave, having had time to get changed and prepare after dinner and settle in the meantime. You shoved your phone in the back pocket of your navy jeans and keys in the tiny front pocket, the only sounds emanating within the stone halls are the steps of your flats and the deep inhale and exhales of breath.

Once you arrive the gold plaque with her name displayed, almost mockingly showed your reflection as if to say don’t do it, don’t fuck this. But you did it, you knocked. Larissa sat hunched over her desk and rested her elbows on the mahogany rubbing her temples to release the never ending headache when her door rang with three prominent knocks. “Come in?” Who the hell would be needing something from her no- oh. “Hey.” You said slipping through the doors and gently shutting it. “Oh y/n, how are you sweetheart?” She asked straightening up and closing her laptop.

“I’m ok…” you said quietly eyes flicking about the room as an awkward silence lingered in the air. Larissa was the first to speak again. “Is there something I can help you with?…Or?” She asked tiling her head to try catch your gaze. “Yes-no, I..I don’t know.” You stuttered. Her tense shoulders relaxed a little and her mouth involuntarily twitched into a hopefully helpful smile, even though she was confused. “Sorry I’m just…” you began with a sigh trailing to one of the seats in front of her desk and slumping into it whilst shaking your head. “It’s ok, take your time I’m all ears, you know that.” She spoke clasping her hands gracefully upon the wooden surface.

In the palm of your hand rested the yet again scrunched piece of paper, your thumbs rubbed at the corner of the page with a tremble. For the first time since entering the threshold you looked at her, properly, meeting her glittering cerulean eyes and sweet expression. She was breathtaking as always dressed in one of her finest matching cream coat and skirt suits and white silk blouse, her jewellery glistening to polished perfection and hair meticulously crafted, and to top it off the signature red lipstick you were oh so fond of.

“You look wonderful, are you off somewhere?” She asked in a smooth voice. “Hmm? Oh no.” You muttered letting the silence fall yet again. “I um…” deep breath. “I want to say something, but…I would like it if you could let me at least attempt to finish before you respond, if that’s ok.” You said gulping half way through your sentence. “That’s ok, if it’s something you’ve done I’m sure we can work through it, but I must admit your making me worried darling, you’re never this formal.” She confessed.

Abruptly standing, you turned you back to let your eyes close for a moment before continuing, putting a healthy distance between you both, you shakily unravel the paper and look to her. “You know better than anyone that I like to say and do things face to face right?” You asked as a prompt to actually stop procrastinating. “I do.” She confirmed. “And no matter the circumstances I try to face every single confronting situation.” You continue. “Of course, I try to encourage you to do so…” she trailed never taking her eyes off of you. “Ok.” You whisper.

One last look before the potential disaster you’re about to cause. “Dearest Larissa.” You began reading from the page pausing every couple of moments. “For the past two years… you have been my companion, confidant, wingwoman and best friend.” You say taking another breath. “You have listened, you have learned and tolerated much of me over this time… for that I will be infinitely grateful, just as I am for all the time we have spent together.” Your eyes flitted to her for a fraction of a second to see if she was following, she was, hanging off every word.

“Your trust and faith in me is my motivation to get up in the morning and try to succeed in the job you have generously handed to me, it also gives me a sense of pride that I am the one you choose to trust with your most inner thoughts and feelings, about people, about values, about whatever you wish to share, another thing I’m greatfull for.” You pause again to collect your bearings and hold it together. “You are kind, intelligent, sweet, beautiful and all round incredible in every sense of the word. You have a talent to command a crowd to your will and a gentleness that is rare to just the average person. I’ve never once been disappointed in who you are, not once, because it’s you and anyone who meets you in their lifetime should thank themselves lucky for having that privilege.”

Larissa sat wide eyed with her lips slightly parted in anticipation of hearing the rest. “I think I should finally own up to being the one who leaves the random flowers, sticky notes and occasional hot chocolate when you haven’t the time to get them yourself, not that you should have to, I apologise if it was too invasive and if you wish for me to stop I will do so, I believe that you deserve to have something to brighten up your day with something as simple as those, because you do.” You say starting to feel the tears prick in the corners of your eyes and hands unsteadily grasp the paper.

Resuming in a breaking voice. “On that note you deserve so much, someone’s hand to hold or shoulder to cry or collapse on, an unasked for embrace and a warm bed filled with tender care. You have no idea-.” You cut yourself of by sniffing and wiping the free falling droplets rolling down your cheeks. “No idea how much it pains me to know that you feel unseen, overlooked and unappreciated by others, but you have to know how much I see what you do, I see the sleepless nights behind your eyes and the insults scared on your heart.” You said holding back sobs.

“I know that you don’t-.” You bit your lip suppressing the pain just for a while longer. “That you don’t feel what I do… that my feelings are unrequited, but at this moment I wouldn’t want to spend my time doing anything else then making sure that you know.” Tilting the paper down and raising your eyes to meet hers you spoke again. “How loved you are, how much you are loved by me, and that you will always have someone who is proud of you for everything, and is interested in all the things you have to say.” You lifted to paper back to you frame of vision and read the last part of you letter.

“Because you Larissa are cherished and held in the most sacred part of my soul and have a home in my heart. I love you with every fibre of my being my sweet girl and I hope you don’t ever forget it… yours, y/n y/l/n.” The second you finished the tightnesses in your throat felt like your breathing constricted to only the most minuscule of air. Gasping for it you dropped to your knees and held onto your chest as if it would help in some way.

Larissa’s own tears fell as you pressed on, the second you fell to the floor she sprung into action by coming to your side, she knelt on the ground and placed a hand on your shoulder to signal her presence. You looked up at her and instantly reached for her face with one hand and the other still holding onto your chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Larissa, please, please, please don’t hate me I’m sorry, I ruined everything, I just- I…” you mumbled almost incoherently between gasps, and just like that when you truly saw her through stinging tears you yourself asked her if she was ok.

“Oh, no don’t cry! Please, no you’re ok, you’re ok.” You squeaked using your other hand to remove the mascara streaks down her porcelain skin. Larissa was stunned by the way you selflessly still even at this point managed to be more concerned about her then you own breakdown. Larissa had never in her life time experienced something like this, not a single person has ever expressed such concern and care towards her and she doesn’t know how to react. She knows that this isn’t the first time you have told someone you like them, but she also knows you have never told someone you love them, let alone that being her.

“I can go, I’ll- I’ll go and I’ll leave you be, ok? You can forget this ever happened alright?” You said sitting back on your thighs to reach the dropped letter, but Larissa stopped you by grasping your wrist and making you look at her. “Stop. Just stop… you’ll stay.” She said in a groggy tone. “But-.” “No.” She cut in. Coming back full force your body wreaked with more uncontrollable sobs. Larissa guided you into her arms and let you be broken just for a moment to release your pent up adrenaline. She held you and rocked you until you calmed and slowed with the pouring apology’s. Gently she tried to coax you out of your state by quietly shushing and running her palm over the crown of your head to the nape of your neck over and over.

Neither of you knew how long it was that you sat wrapped together, but when it felt right Larissa pulled back and cupped your face in her hand and peered into your swollen and puffy eyes. “Thank you.” She breathed. You stared back at her almost emotionless drained of any and all energy, you were confused as to why she chose to thank instead of ask you to leave in disgust. “I’m sorry that I did this.” You started. “But I’m not sorry that I fell in love with you.” You said picking at the skin around your nails. “Nor am I.” She replied. The crease in your brows deepened at her words.

Slowly Larissa lent her forehead against your own and breathed deeply. “What did I do to be graced with you?.” She whispered. “I’m the one who should be proud of you darling, you said it. You said what I’ve wished to say for a long time, and… I know that must have been very difficult to say, but I’m glad you did.” She said. Your eyes fluttered close to just enjoy this small moment. “Look at you comforting others with the words you wish to hear, y/n…” she retracted just a little. “You are the one who is loved by me. I’m just not as brave as you to say it, but I am now and I don’t know what this means, but I see how much love you have to give, I feel it when ever your around… you told me once you believe that you were only meant to give love and not receive it, but if you will let me, I want to give mine to you.” She smiled.

This isn’t how you pictured this to go, not in the slightest, but who could ever complain. You peered into her eyes so intensely to make sure there was no underlying malice or false intention, but you didn’t find an ounce. You took ahold of Larissa’s right hand and opened her fingertips to lay a palm on your chest. “Rissa…” you started, not being able to find the right words. “I know.” She said pulling her hand with yours on top and cupping your cheek, you leaned into her touch just to relish in her warmth. More tears fell down your cheeks burning from following the same tracks as previous ones. “I’m so tired.” You hummed. “I know.”

Larissa removed her heels tossing them aside before shifting herself to a grounding position on her knees. She held the back of your calves and wrapped them around her waist and moved your arms to brace around her neck. You caught on to what she was doing and almost resisted not wanting her to hurt herself by your weight, instead she leaned back putting one arm around your waist and one under your ass holding you to her as she stood. Larissa guided yourselves through to her quarters adjacent of her office and without letting you go she knelt on the bed and laid down without disturbing the position.

That bed, the same luxurious place the two of you shared so many memories in, watching movies, bickering, watching her remove her make up in the vanity’s reflection, the same place she perched her head in your lap to brush out her hair and loosely braid for her to sleep in. This was the place you knew you loved her, you saw Larissa for everything she was and only you have had the privilege of knowing who and what she really is.

Your head moved from the crook of her neck to the same pillow she occupied and breathed her in, you moved one of your arms to the little space between you and used you fingertip to trace over her face, her cheeks, nose, eyes and lips, Larissa felt peace, she felt whole like a missing part of her returned, she always felt that way when you were around, even the times she would walk past your classroom and though she couldn’t see you her stomach would erupt in butterflies knowing you were close.

“I love you y/n.” She whispered. Your gaze turned upward to her eyes and you smiled, a genuine smile that only she could bring to your face. “I love you more.” You replied. “Larissa?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation. “Mmm?” She hummed. “Would it be selfish of me to ask if I could kiss you…” you said hoping for a yes, but if she still has boundaries-. Larissa didn’t even respond, within two seconds of finishing your question she kissed you, gently but passionately, she swallowed every breath of yours and you hers.

After a while your limbs were together intertwined, soft breaths as well as shuddering ones from the after effects of crying and shy strokings from nimble fingers were what made the pain from many prior months seem to wither away. Larissa and yourself had moved off the bed to change into something to sleep in, she wouldn’t let you leave and for that you were happy because you didn’t want to.

You rested in her clothes in her bed under the sheets curled to her side as she rested against the headboard, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. Larissa played with your hair tracing the shell of your ear before reaching to her bedside table pulling out the small notebook from the draw, she rested it in her lap and opened it flipping through the first couple of pages and she began to read aloud.

“Tuesday 11th. Something wonderful happened today, something I didn’t think I was akin to anymore. It seems I have fallen into love with my best friend, I know history repeating itself, but this is far different to a teenage obsession, I love this woman, I love her far greater than anything else in this world, however I’m afraid she will never know. But I’ve waited this long to feel something like this again I’m ok with it staying like this, for now at least.” She said not stopping her ministrations the whole time of reading.

You looked up at her while she read with a twinkle in your eyes and a sleepy smile plastered to your face. Larissa tore out the page and rested it and the notebook on the table and told you to keep it if she can keep yours, she shuffled down and wrapped herself around you and together you both fell into a blissful sleep. This was the first night of many more to come, your last thought was finally, and hers was exactly the same.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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reiderwriter · 1 year

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♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

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