#because the way she learned to play the game and wrap everything up
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the finale was pretty good but the final scene being an awkward solo dance party to non-diagetic music? not the best choice imo. also I always thought those wide dresses look dumb as hell
#watching catherine stick to her principles was inspiring but also frustrating because it took her so long to act#as a savvy political leader as well#like pugachev was right. the changes she wanted to make were impossible to put through because they disrupted the entire social and economi#structure of the country. thats why a violent uprising had to happen#so I wasn't exactly rooting for her to take back control from a idealogical standpoint but from a character one#because the way she learned to play the game and wrap everything up#and even channel a murderous elementary schooler's bloodlust into something beneficial for her#was genuinely impressive#hot damn. what a show#looks like 6 seasons were planned. I'd watch six. fuck#the stinger at the end with archie. KNEW he'd make it lol#the great lb#the great spoilers
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CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you
you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)
WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron
MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader
Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks
Word Count — 2.2K
lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller
You always wanted Rafe.
It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.
Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.
Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.
You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.
At least, in public.
You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.
And he did.
Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.
It drove him insane.
Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.
Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?
It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.
The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.
And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.
His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.
Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.
"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."
"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"
"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."
You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.
"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."
His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.
"You're not fucking me in a car."
"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.
"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."
He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.
"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.
"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."
"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"
"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."
You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.
Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.
And what he can do with it.
Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.
That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.
When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.
But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."
So fucking pretentious.
It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.
And he was right.
You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.
"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."
"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.
"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"
"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."
"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"
You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.
You win.
"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."
Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.
"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."
Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.
"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.
Yet, Rafe merely grins.
"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."
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tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
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Eden
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...
I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.
Word Count: 4.2k
Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3
Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers.
Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.
“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer.
“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered.
“Are you sure?”
You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him.
“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.
“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict.
Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.
“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.
“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.
The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.
“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.
——
“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.
“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.
“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.
“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room.
“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.
“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.
“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”
“Hey…!” Benedict protests.
“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”
You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby.
“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you.
You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.
“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.
“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.
As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.
——
“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?”
Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later.
“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.
“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.
“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse.
The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank.
“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”
You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.
Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”
You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”
“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”
“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.
“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.
You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours. “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.
He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome.
Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.
“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.
Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot.
“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is.
You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.
He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.
“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.
“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.
“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.
This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body.
“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.
He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.
“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”
You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.
“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.
With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area.
As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.
He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.
“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.” His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.
“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise.
“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”
Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.
“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you.
“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.
You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time.
You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.
“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.
With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.
Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.
“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”
“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.
“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly.
He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does.
“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.
Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.
“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone.
“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.
He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage.
Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.
You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.
“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.
He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.
You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.
“Perfect..” he intones.
In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm.
“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.
His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…
“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.
“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.
Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.
“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”
He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.
You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.
You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.
“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.
That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.
“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.
——
As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.
“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.
“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.
“Even if it is a girl?!”
“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.
He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.
“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.
“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.
“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”
There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.
“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.
“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”
“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.
The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.
——
9 months later
Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.
But it was all worth it.
What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.
“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.
You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”
His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.
“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”
“Four?” he petitions with a wink.
You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.
“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world.
Which to you both, they are.
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Could you write something where reader and Lando have been in a relationship and reader has a heart condition and she never told Lando so he didn’t stress about her and to focus on racing, and Lando and her brake up because he stupidly told her he wants to focus on racing this year and after she left he realised his mistake as all the little things reader did for him before a race are all gone and everything just feels wrong and when he tries to contact her he can’t find her until a few weeks later he gets a call from the hospital that reader has fallen unconscious and when he gets there he then learns about her heart condition and that stress is not good for her heart. But happy ending.
heart flutters (ln4)
✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader
✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, heart condition
The morning sun slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Lando’s bedroom. Y/N was lying beside him, her hand resting on his chest, her breathing soft and steady. Lando felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
He couldn’t quite remember when his mornings had become this perfect, but he knew Y/N had something to do with it.
She shifted, blinking awake, and her sleepy smile met his gaze. “Good morning, love,” she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
"Morning," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Did you sleep okay?"
“Always do when I’m with you,” she replied, snuggling closer. “Although I could do without you hogging the blanket,” she teased, giving him a playful poke.
Lando laughed, pulling her closer. “Alright, alright, I’ll work on it.”
These mornings together, the lazy Sundays and cozy, laughter-filled moments, were Y/N’s specialty. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, especially on race days. She’d wake up early with him, helping him calm his nerves and making sure he had everything he needed. And every time, he’d find some new way she was taking care of him, even if it was something small—like hiding a little note in his helmet, wishing him luck.
“Hey,” Y/N said, watching his thoughtful expression. “You okay?”
Lando nodded. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he admitted, his voice soft.
Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes a little. “You’re getting sappy on me, Norris.”
“Just telling it like it is,” he replied, smiling as he watched her try to hide her smile.
They went about their morning, with Y/N humming along to the soft music playing in the kitchen as she made breakfast. She slid a plate across to Lando, along with a steaming cup of his favorite coffee. He took a sip, sighing in contentment. She’d even managed to get his coffee just right.
"Alright, mister," she said with a smirk, sitting down beside him. "What's the game plan today?"
"Game plan?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you were the expert at making my plans.”
“Maybe,” she replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “But I like to think I’m just the support. You’re the superstar here.”
Lando rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re more than support, Y/N. You’re… you’re my everything, you know that?”
Y/N smiled, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, something he didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the moment. She covered it up with a quick laugh, brushing it off. “And you’re mine. Just… try not to get too cocky on track, alright?”
He laughed, squeezing her hand. “Can’t make any promises.”
Their relationship was filled with moments like these—easy, natural, just them being themselves. Y/N grounded him, kept him steady, especially when the world of racing felt overwhelming. She never burdened him with anything else, always making sure his focus was on the track. And she always brushed off his attempts to give back, saying his happiness was all she needed.
But it was Lando who felt like he needed her more than he’d ever admit.
As they finished breakfast, she reached out, taking his hand. "You'll do amazing, Lando," she said quietly. "You always do."
"I only do so well because of you, you know that?" he replied, squeezing her hand.
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes again, but there was warmth there, too. “Alright, alright, enough with the sweet talk. Go focus on your race and be the best you can be out there. That’s all I ask.”
Lando leaned in, kissing her softly. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Norris,” she replied, grinning as she kissed him back.
As he left for the track, he felt a familiar sense of calm wash over him. Y/N had this way of making everything feel right, grounding him no matter what lay ahead. He knew, deep down, that he’d never be able to thank her enough for everything she did for him.
And for Y/N, watching him walk out the door with that smile, she knew that was exactly how she wanted it to be.
--
It was late, and the rain was tapping against the window of Lando’s apartment as he paced back and forth, hands tangled in his hair. The 2024 season had been brutal, every race pushing him to his limit, the pressure of a potential world championship win weighing on him like a mountain. He could practically taste the victory, but the stress of it all had made him someone he barely recognized.
Y/N was sitting on the couch, arms crossed as she watched him pace. She’d noticed it for weeks now, the way he was shutting her out, snapping at her for even the smallest things, as if she were just another distraction.
Finally, she broke the silence, her voice sharp. “Lando, can you stop pacing for two seconds and talk to me?”
He stopped, sighing heavily as he turned to face her. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he muttered. “That I’m exhausted? That I can’t focus with all of this going on?”
“All of this?” she echoed, hurt flashing across her face. “What’s ‘all of this,’ exactly? Because I thought we were a team, Lando. I thought I was helping you!”
“Helping me?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I have to focus. Every race, every lap, every second counts right now. I can’t… I don’t have time to be dealing with you—”
“Dealing with me?” Her voice was sharp, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Lando, I’ve done nothing but support you. Every single time you’re struggling, I’m here. And now you’re telling me I’m… I’m a distraction?”
He clenched his fists, too frustrated to back down. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! Every time I’m around you, I feel like I’m being pulled in a million directions. I need to focus on racing, Y/N. I need this championship.”
“And what about us, Lando?” she demanded, standing up, her own anger now matching his. “Do I mean anything to you anymore, or am I just some inconvenience? Because that’s exactly how you’re making me feel.”
He looked away, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Maybe it’s just not working anymore.”
Her eyes widened, the pain in them unmistakable. She took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “So that’s it? Just like that? You’re giving up on us?”
“Maybe I am,” he snapped, though even as he said it, something twisted painfully in his chest. “Maybe I need to focus on my career. I can’t have anyone holding me back right now.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Holding you back? I’m holding you back, Lando? After everything I’ve done? The sacrifices I’ve made, the nights I stayed up worrying for you, the races I watched, praying you’d come home safe… that’s ‘holding you back’?”
“You just don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice softer now but still laced with frustration. “You don’t get the pressure I’m under, Y/N. I have a chance to win this championship, and I can’t be thinking about anything else.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she replied, her tone cold. “You’ve let this championship turn you into someone I barely recognize. The Lando I knew would have never pushed me away like this.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said, the words hitting her like a slap.
She swallowed hard, the hurt on her face plain to see. But she wasn’t about to let him get away with this. “You’re right,” she replied, her voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I don’t know you anymore. Because the man I fell in love with would have never treated me like this. He wouldn’t have thrown away everything we have because he’s too blinded by his own ambition.”
“Fine,” he spat, his anger still raging. “Maybe you should just leave, then.”
Silence fell between them, the weight of his words settling like a stone in the room. Y/N stared at him, her eyes filling with tears, but she refused to let them fall.
“Don’t worry, Lando,” she said, her voice breaking slightly as she grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”
She turned toward the door, but stopped just before leaving, looking back at him one last time. “I hope it’s worth it, Lando. I really do.”
And with that, she was gone, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the silence of the apartment.
Lando stood there, the anger that had been burning inside him now replaced by a hollow ache. He’d gotten what he’d wanted—he was free to focus on his racing. But as he looked around the empty room, he realized just how empty his life felt without her.
--
Lando sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing in on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It had been two weeks since Y/N had walked out. At first, he told himself he’d done the right thing, that he needed to focus on racing, that he couldn’t afford any distractions. But now, all he could feel was the aching void she’d left behind.
Race weekend had come, and the pre-race routines—the moments that had once been so seamless, so comforting—now felt cold and empty. His helmet was sitting on the counter, untouched. There were no little notes tucked into his bag, no reminders to stay safe, no lucky charm slipped into his hand just before he left for the track. Y/N had always known what to do, how to make him feel like he could conquer the world. Now, everything just felt wrong.
He leaned against the counter, clutching the edge, his heart pounding as he stared down at his helmet. The knot in his chest tightened with each passing second, a harsh reminder of how badly he’d messed up.
“Lando?” Max entered the room, noticing his tense expression. “You alright, mate? You don’t look yourself.”
Lando managed a hollow smile, waving him off. “I’m fine.”
But Max wasn’t convinced. He took a seat across from him, eyeing him carefully. “You’ve been off these past few weeks. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“Yeah, just… racing stress, you know?” Lando muttered, though he knew it was a lie. It wasn’t racing stress—it was Y/N. She’d been his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he was more than just a driver. Without her, he felt like he was falling apart.
Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but respectful enough not to push further. “Alright, well… if you need anything, let me know. You know I’m here for you.”
“Thanks,” Lando replied, trying to keep his voice steady. But as Max left, the emptiness clawed at him even more fiercely. He glanced back down at his helmet, the silence in the room growing louder, deafening.
He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He slumped down onto the floor, burying his face in his hands as memories flooded him. He remembered the way Y/N would look at him with those warm eyes, her voice filled with gentle reassurance.
The more Lando went through his days, the more he noticed just how much Y/N had been woven into every corner of his life. Each time he stumbled over a small moment they used to share, it was like a painful reminder of how deeply he had messed up.
Race Day Routine
When he sat down for breakfast the morning of his next race, he instinctively reached for the small bag she’d usually leave out for him—one filled with his favorite snacks, electrolyte packets, and a note in her neat handwriting that usually said, “For that extra boost, love. You’ve got this.” Every race day morning, she’d make sure his essentials were perfectly packed, knowing how easily he’d forget them in the rush.
But the counter was empty, and so were his hands. There was no note, no bag, no encouraging message. He’d scoffed at how overprotective she’d been, thinking he could handle it himself. Now, as he fumbled to prepare for his race on his own, the empty counter felt like a gaping hole in his chest.
Before the Race
In the paddock, he felt it again, the silence louder than ever. Y/N would always make sure to slip away with him for just a moment before he stepped into the garage, giving him a quiet pep talk when he needed it most. Her words, so full of calm and warmth, used to steady him, keeping the pressure from crushing him. She’d take his face in her hands, look him straight in the eyes, and remind him, “It’s just you and the track. Nothing else matters. Drive like only you can.”
He’d rolled his eyes at her sometimes, told her he didn’t need the cheesy encouragement—but she’d insisted anyway, saying, “Well, too bad, because you’re getting it.” Her words were like armor, a shield she’d wrapped around him before every race.
Now, standing alone by his car, he could feel the pressure creeping in, gnawing at him, and there was nothing to keep it at bay. He glanced around, almost expecting to see her in the crowd, but of course, she wasn’t there.
Late Nights in the Simulator
Back at the team facility, he spent more time than ever practicing, pushing himself harder, trying to keep his mind from drifting back to her. But even here, she’d left her mark. On the long nights, Y/N used to bring him coffee, perfectly made just the way he liked it, and sit beside him, giving him quiet company. She wouldn’t say much, just enough to keep his spirits up, occasionally throwing him an encouraging smile as he took lap after lap in the simulator.
And when he’d get frustrated, when he’d curse and slam his fists on the table, she’d place a calming hand on his shoulder, reminding him, “You’re Lando Norris, you can do this. Don’t let the tough laps get to you. Breathe.”
Now, he sat there, tense and alone, his coffee lukewarm and forgotten. No hand to steady him, no quiet reassurance. The simulator felt cold, and so did he.
At Home, Late at Night
Even the nights felt wrong. Y/N had always insisted on turning on the small night light for him, a tiny habit she’d developed when she realized that he hated stumbling around in the dark after a race, too exhausted to find his way. He’d teased her about it, saying he didn’t need it, but she’d laugh, saying, “Well, one of us does.” She’d make sure it was on for him every night she stayed over, like clockwork.
Tonight, he sat in the pitch-black room, the silence pressing in, the absence of the warm glow almost suffocating. He clenched his fists, swallowing against the ache that was rising in his throat. He missed her laugh, her teasing, the tiny acts of love she’d filled his life with.
Flashback
“You’re going to be amazing today, Lando,” she’d whisper, holding his hand just before he stepped onto the track. “Just remember, it’s not about winning or losing to me. I love you just the same, no matter what.”
And he’d feel his nerves melt away. She had a way of making him feel like he could face anything.
Now, without her, the fear crept back in, gnawing at him from the inside.
He pressed his palms into his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him. “God… what have I done?”
Every little thing she used to do, every act of kindness, every word of encouragement—he’d taken it all for granted. He thought he could focus better without her, that his life would be easier. But instead, all he felt was the emptiness of her absence, like a cold shadow in every corner.
His phone buzzed on the counter, and his heart jumped, a surge of desperate hope flooding him as he reached for it. But it was just a message from his manager.
Frustration tore through him, and he tossed his phone down, clenching his fists. He could still hear her voice in his head, her words from their last fight haunting him.
Flashback to Their Argument
“Don’t worry, Lando,” she’d said bitterly, her voice cracking. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your precious championship.”
He remembered her eyes, red and tear-filled, as she looked at him one last time, filled with a pain he’d caused. He remembered thinking he was doing the right thing, choosing his career, telling himself he couldn’t afford to be vulnerable.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered to himself, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.
Everything felt different without her. The things he used to love—the rush of the track, the thrill of competition—they all felt meaningless now. He was pushing himself harder than ever, but it wasn’t out of passion. It was to numb the ache she’d left behind, to keep himself from falling apart.
But no matter how fast he drove, how hard he pushed, he couldn’t outrun the realization.
Race Day Morning
He stood in front of the mirror, suit half-zipped, his hands gripping the sink as he stared at his own reflection. His face looked drawn, the shadows under his eyes deep. The loneliness, the guilt, the regret—it was all written there, plain as day.
“You look terrible,” he muttered to himself, voice hollow.
He remembered the way she’d stand beside him, fixing his collar, laughing as she reminded him to keep his head cool. And now, all he had was his own reflection staring back at him, mocking him with his own emptiness.
Finally, the weight became too much, and he grabbed his phone, his fingers shaking as he typed her number. He didn’t know what he was going to say, didn’t know if she’d even answer. But he couldn’t keep going like this. He needed to apologize, to tell her how wrong he’d been, how much he missed her.
The phone rang, each ring feeling like an eternity. Just as he was about to give up, her voicemail clicked on.
“Hey, it’s Y/N… leave a message.”
He swallowed hard, the sound of her voice hitting him like a punch to the gut. Taking a shaky breath, he spoke, his voice breaking.
“Y/N… it’s me. I… I don’t know if you’ll ever listen to this, but I just… I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled, each word spilling out like a confession. “I was wrong, okay? I thought I needed to focus, but without you… everything’s falling apart. I miss you. I miss… us. Please… please just… call me back.”
He hung up, feeling the weight of his own words settle over him. But there was nothing else he could do now, except hope—hope that somehow, she might still care, might still give him a chance to fix the mess he’d made.
--
Lando had tried everything. He’d called, texted, even reached out to her friends, hoping someone could tell him where she was. But no one had any information; she’d slipped away completely. Days turned into weeks, and with each one, the realization sank deeper: she might never come back.
One night, Lando sat alone in his apartment, drained and unfocused, his phone resting on the coffee table. His mind was restless, jumping between regret and desperation, reliving their last fight, the look in her eyes as she’d walked out.
Then, the phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it without thinking, not even checking the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Is this Lando Norris?” a calm, professional voice asked.
“Uh… yeah, this is him,” Lando replied, his heart pounding.
“This is Dr. Kapoor from St. Thomas Hospital. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N.”
Lando’s stomach dropped, his throat suddenly dry. “Yes, yes, that’s me… is she alright? What happened?”
“She was brought in unconscious a few hours ago,” the doctor explained. “We’ve stabilized her, but we’d like you to come in as soon as possible.”
Lando didn’t need to hear anything else. He muttered a frantic “I’m on my way” before grabbing his keys and running out the door.
The drive to the hospital felt endless, each passing second stretching painfully as he sped down the empty streets. His mind raced with possibilities, the worst scenarios creeping in, twisting his insides. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they were white.
By the time he burst through the hospital doors, he was gasping for breath, his heart pounding as he frantically searched for her room. A nurse pointed him down the hall, and he bolted, not caring how he looked, just needing to see her, to know she was alright.
He found her room and stopped, momentarily frozen by the sight before him. Y/N lay in the hospital bed, pale and fragile, wires and monitors surrounding her. The steady beep of her heart monitor filled the room, grounding him slightly, but the sight of her like this tore at him. Slowly, he stepped forward, his throat tight, struggling to keep his emotions in check.
Just as he was about to speak, the doctor entered.
“Mr. Norris?” Dr. Kapoor’s voice was gentle, sensing his distress.
Lando nodded, barely able to manage a word. “What… what happened to her?”
Dr. Kapoor took a deep breath, her expression softening. “Y/N has a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It’s a condition that can be exacerbated by stress, which could lead to fainting or, in severe cases, even heart failure.”
Lando’s face fell, his voice barely a whisper. “She… she never told me.”
“She might not have wanted to worry you,” the doctor said. “It’s common for patients with this condition to keep it private, especially if they think it might place a burden on others.”
Lando’s heart twisted, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realized why she’d never mentioned it. She hadn’t wanted him to stress, to worry, especially during the season when he’d been under so much pressure. She’d always put him first, even to the point of hiding something so serious.
He took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. “Can I… can I see her?”
The doctor nodded. “She’s stable now, and she’ll likely wake up soon. But remember, keeping her calm is crucial. She’ll need rest and minimal stress to recover.”
Lando swallowed, nodding quickly, but he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice. “I’ll… I’ll take care of her. I swear.”
Dr. Kapoor offered him a small, understanding smile before leaving the room, giving him a moment alone with Y/N.
Lando stepped closer, reaching out to gently take her hand. His thumb traced over her knuckles, and he noticed how cold her hand felt in his.
“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have known.”
He sat beside her, the weight of everything hitting him all at once. “I was so… so stupid. I thought I needed to focus on racing, but… God, I was wrong. I was so wrong. You’re… you’re everything, Y/N. None of this means anything without you.”
He stayed like that, holding her hand, his head bowed as he let himself cry for the first time in weeks. All the pride, all the anger—it had melted away, leaving only the raw, aching regret of having pushed away the one person who truly loved him.
After a few minutes, he felt her fingers twitch slightly in his hand. His head shot up, hope flooding his chest as he saw her eyes slowly blink open.
“Y/N?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
She blinked up at him, confusion flickering across her face before her gaze settled on him, and he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “Lando…?”
He took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m here. I’m right here, love.”
She tried to sit up, wincing as the monitor beeped slightly faster. Lando was quick to place a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “Hey, don’t… don’t push yourself. Just… just rest.”
She looked away, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you here, Lando? I thought… you wanted to focus on racing.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he forced himself to face her, to let her see the remorse in his eyes. “I was wrong, Y/N. I was so, so wrong. I thought I needed to do it alone, that I couldn’t let myself get… attached. But all I did was ruin the best thing in my life.”
Her expression softened, and he saw her blinking back tears. “You really hurt me, Lando. I didn’t ask you for much. I just wanted to be there for you, and you… you made me feel like I was a burden.”
“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “And I hate myself for it. You did everything for me, and I didn’t see it until you were gone. I love you, Y/N… I can’t lose you. Not like this.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and he reached up, brushing it away with a tenderness that spoke of all the things he wished he’d done sooner. “I’m here now,” he continued. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
She looked at him for a long moment, searching his face, and finally nodded, her hand squeezing his. “You hurt me, Lando. But… I still love you, too.”
Relief flooded his face, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll be better. I promise.”
For the first time in weeks, Lando felt a spark of hope, knowing he had a chance to rebuild what he’d nearly thrown away. And as he sat beside her, holding her close, he vowed never to let her feel alone again.
--
Lando had been the perfect caretaker ever since Y/N was discharged from the hospital. He took her straight back to their apartment, rearranging everything in his life to ensure she was comfortable and safe. Every morning, he’d bring her breakfast in bed with a ridiculous grin, complete with heart-shaped toast and fresh orange juice. He filled her day with little surprises—flowers by her bedside, a new stack of her favorite books, and even a fuzzy blanket he’d bought just for her.
One night, Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, instinctively reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed empty. Confused, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She hadn’t heard him get up, and her heart skipped slightly as worry bubbled up, wondering if something was wrong.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly as she went to look for him. She found him in the living room, seated on the couch with his laptop open and a small notebook by his side. His hair was tousled, and he had a focused, almost determined expression on his face as he typed something into the search bar.
“Understanding Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy” appeared on the screen, along with several videos, articles, and patient forums. Lando had a pen in his hand, and as he clicked on a video, she watched as he jotted down notes on a page, his handwriting a messy scrawl but full of sincerity. The video’s audio was soft, and she could hear the narrator explaining symptoms, risk factors, and the importance of a low-stress environment.
Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she watched him, realizing just how much he was trying to understand, to do anything he could to protect her.
“Alright,” he muttered to himself, tapping the pen on the notebook. “Avoid stress… maybe I can start doing a weekly meditation with her or, like… yoga? Yeah, that might help. And… maybe I should keep her work stuff organized so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed.”
Y/N couldn’t hold back any longer. She quietly stepped forward, and Lando jumped slightly when he felt her curl up on his lap, but he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
“Hey,” he whispered, his voice tender as he brushed a hand over her hair. “What are you doing awake?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were soft, full of gratitude and love, and Lando’s heart swelled.
He gave her a sheepish smile, glancing at the open notebook. “I… I wanted to make sure I was doing everything right. I know I’ve messed up before, and I want to be the best I can be for you now. So, I figured… I’d do my homework.”
Y/N let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “You’re really… reading up on my condition?”
“Of course I am,” he said, his voice warm but serious. “I need to know how to keep you safe. How to make sure you’re not stressed out or worried, and…” He swallowed, his voice breaking just a bit. “I just want to make everything perfect for you, love.”
She buried her face in his neck, her heart aching in the best way possible. “Lando… you’re already doing more than enough. Just… being here with me, caring for me… it’s more than I could ever ask for.”
“But it doesn’t feel like enough,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m never going to let you feel alone or unimportant again. You’re my world, Y/N. I want to make sure you’re as healthy and happy as you can be.”
She pulled back, looking at him with watery eyes, a small smile on her face. “Lando, I don’t need perfection. I just need you.”
His expression softened as he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Well, you’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m gonna keep studying this and doing everything I can to make sure you feel safe and loved.”
She laughed through her tears, leaning into his hand. “You already make me feel so loved. I don’t think you even realize it, but you do.”
Lando’s smile turned gentle, and he bent down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I just want to be the person you deserve.”
She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his kiss settle over her, and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re already that person, Lando. You always have been.”
He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her as he held her close. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until I see that smile on your face every single day.”
As Y/N nestled closer into his lap, her attention shifted to the laptop screen, where a doctor was speaking in a calm, measured tone.
“Managing stress is crucial for patients with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy,” the voice on the video explained. “Avoid situations that may induce high emotional stress. For instance, hostile conversations, arguments, or other confrontational exchanges can increase strain on the heart.”
Lando stilled, his gaze fixed on the screen as those words sank in. She could feel him tense beneath her, a flicker of regret passing over his face.
“That… makes sense,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I’ve been so selfish. I didn’t realize that my own stress… my own words… could actually make things worse for you.”
Y/N put her hand on his cheek, urging him to look at her. “Lando, it’s okay—”
“No,” he interrupted gently, meeting her gaze with a deep, remorseful look. “It’s not okay. I didn’t just make things stressful; I let you feel like you couldn’t even tell me what was going on with you. I was so wrapped up in myself… I can’t believe I was so blind.”
Y/N’s eyes softened as she watched him, the depth of his regret written all over his face. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “We’re here now. That’s what matters. You’re here, and I know how much you care.”
He exhaled slowly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “I’ll never let stress come between us again, love. I promise.”
They sat together like that, wrapped up in each other, as the rest of the world faded away. Lando continued to stroke her hair, murmuring sweet promises of the future he envisioned for them. And for the first time in weeks, Y/N felt a calm settle over her, knowing that Lando was there, exactly where he wanted to be, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.
#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#plus side girls#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x female reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#y/n#mclaren#red bull racing#f1 fics#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you
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Pleasant Surprise - tendo x reader
Summary: He's used to girls trying to get through him to get to Ushiwaka. He knows no girl actually wants to be with him or get to know him. None of the gifts he receives are ever actually for him. Until you approach him one day after practice.
Warnings/notes: insecurity, speculation, rudeness, but, tbh not that much, short reader (shorter than Tendo). Chat I literally wrote all of day two and left to find a divider AND TURNS OUT EVERYTHING DELETED SO I HAD TO REWRITE THE WHOLE THING 😆😆😆😆😆
Day one
Practice was finally over.
Tendo loved it. It was another good day for him and the team.
What he didn't quite loves was-
"E-excuse me?" A tiny feminine voice to his left.
"Can I help you?" He answered, almost rudely. He knew what was to come, especially with the way you held the small, neatly wrapped gift box in between your hands.
"I'm really sorry to bother you, Tendo.." You began, shyly looking up at the taller male.
Tendo almost rolled his eyes. He wanted to just tell you to go away. He couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted to go home, but here you were, a cute girl saying his name with the sweetest voice trying to use him to get to his buddy.
It would be nice not to be looked over for once. Not only was it annoying to have to go through this nearly every day but painful, too. You were so cute and pretty. He recalled seeing you around and watching their practice several times.
"I made this for you. I was wondering if you'd accept it?" The girl brought her arms up higher, showing off the tiny box to the volleyball player.
"Listen-" Tendo almost answered in his usual way, telling girls to just go away because Ushiwaka didn't want their gifts anyway but then he realized what you said.
A gift for him? This was new. You wanted to earn his trust and get close to him just so he could introduce you to Ushiwaka. Didn't you?
Figures.
"U-um, you don't have to.. if you don't want to." You spoke up after Tendo was quiet for some time, thinking.
"Is it for me?" He wondered.
"Yes! It's for you! I made this just for you, Tendo."
Before he could say anything, you decided to keep speaking your mind, making sure he understood the extent of your purpose for being in front of him today.
"I've been coming to watch you practice for some time now.. you're amazing. You're so tall and a great blocker! I can tell you enjoy playing the game very much.. you always have a smile on your face when you play. And I enjoy watching you..very much as well."
Tendo was stunned, to say the least. You spoke without even looking at him. What you said didn't sound rehearsed or bogusly put together.
He wasn't sure what to say or do. He didn't know if he was convinced either.
"I took the time to learn that you really like chocolate too.. so that's why I made it for you. It took me a while to get the recipe right, but I did it just for you.. so I would really appreciate it if you could accept my hard work." You stared at the floor, face flushed and embarrassed, arms stretched out. You couldn't believe you poured nearly your whole heart out to him when he hadn't even said more than one word to you.
"Um.. okay. Thank you very much. I'll make sure to have these later." Tendo took the small box from your pretty hands. He had never been in a situation like this before - he hoped his answer wasn't too blunt or that he made you feel dumb for being here.
"Please! Let me know if you like them! Or if you dont.. I'd be very happy to make more for you!" You bowed quickly before speeding off in the opposite direction, cheeks burning.
You really hopped you hadn't said too much.
Tendo watched you walk away, cocking his head slightly to the his right, puzzled.
Could it be that you really did make it for him because you wanted to give it to him?
Could it be true that you really had been watching him and not Ushiwaka?
"Damn. That girl was really nervous." He hears Semi from his left speak.
"Aw man! You're so lucky, Tendo! She was cute.." Goshiki gushes from his right.
"Yeah, she was.."
Day two
The next day, Tendo walked the halls with the knowledge that somewhere in the same building, there was a girl who made the best chocolates he's ever had.
He hardly thought of anything else since he popped one of the treats into his mouth the night prior. He couldn't believe something so delicious could be made. And just for him nonetheless.
He hoped your words were truthful. He hoped he would see you again that afternoon so he could thank you.
Tendo made his way toward the gym, where he would be partaking in the usual practice routine.
When he arrived and was fully changed into his gym clothes, he made sure to warm up with his teammates.
He stretched and received a few balls, making sure to keep an eye out for you.
The redhead made sure to glance over at the students' section every so often.
Tendo was quite disillusioned to find you nowhere to be seen.
An hour into practice, he figured you just weren't coming. He had been tricked, hadn't he.
Oh well.
There's no way a girl like you would seriously be into him.
He decided to go on as if nothing had happened, as per usual. He continued giving it his all during practice as was expected from him.
.
.
.
Tendo exited the changing room, having his regular school uniform on now. He could hear his younger teammates messing about in the room behind him while he bent down low, grabbing his shows and placing them in front of himself.
"Tendo." He hears the firm, stoic voice of his best buddy call out.
"Hey! Wakaaa!" The lankier boy teased with the nickname, looking off in Ushijima's direction whilst putting his left shoe on.
"There was a girl looking for you." The barely taller male spoke.
"A girl?" Tendo repeated, moving on to his right shoe.
"I thought she was gonna ask me for my autograph. Instead, she asked me about you." Ushiwaka informed, with his usual straight face.
Tendo straightened up his body, finishing up with his shoes he turned his full attention to his friend.
"Where is she?" The redhead asked, picturing your shaky figure holding out the gift he enjoyed so much.
Ushiwaka shrugged.
"She was outside the gym, last time I saw her."
Tendo thanked his friend and quickly made his way back to the gym, hoping he hadn't missed you.
He was relieved to find you curiously standing about right outside the gym.
"Excuse me?" He spoke, stepping to you.
You quickly turn around to meet the boy, your hair whipping the air from the speed.
"Tendo!" You spoke, surprised.
"I'm shocked, I didn't think I'd see you again or have the chance to thank you for those chocolates." Tendo teased, reffering to your absence earlier.
He watched your face twist into guilt.
"I am only able to see you when my club activities end early. I'm so sorry! Did you like the gift then..?" You ramble, apologetically, your cheeks flushing.
Tendo suddenly found it increasingly difficult to hide how flattered he is by your presence.
You took the time to come see him after your own club activities and even asked Ushiwaka about him. And the way you messed with your uniform nervously as you spoke was adorable in his eyes.
"Like it? I loved it!! I've never had anything so good before." His face warmed up.
"Really?? It was a family recipe.. I barely learned it, so I'm glad you enjoyed them!" You gave another sweet smile, almost as sweet as the treats the boy had last night.
"You'll have to teach me that recipe some time, cause seriously, I've never had anything like that before!" He gushed, hoping he didn't sound too enthusiastic.
You blush at his compliments.
"So.. do you enjoy making sweets too, Tendo?" You wonder, hoping the two of you might find something in common, it would be beneficial to keep the conversation going which you hoped would happen.
"Actually, I've never baked or anything like that. But, if it's possible to make something that good, I'd like to learn it."
You were happy that he took such interest in you. You honestly hadn't expected it. You were just some girl after all. It warmed your heart and the tips of your ears.
"By the way, you were looking for me? Ushiwaka told me."
Again, your cheeks flushed and you stiffened up.
"Well, I wanted to see you! I am a fan of yours, you know!" You laughed awkwardly admitting you truly did just want to see him.
Tendo's cheeks warmed further equal to yours now.
You wanted to see him? His fan? A pretty girl?
Could words be ever more flattering? Could you make him any more embarrassed? He seriously couldn't believe it.
You really called yourself his fan.
"Oh, wow. I didn't know I had such a beautiful fan." He sputtered, relieved that he hadn't stuttered. He almost missed your expression after those words.
Your face dropped, and he could see the visible pink hue that coated your pretty cheeks.
"I-Well, you know, I mean.. you're awesome and like also super! And beautiful.. too.." Your eyes widened from your own words. How could one stumble over themselves so damn much?
You internally beat the shit out of yourself. There's no way you didn't totally just blow it.
You almost missed how his eyes widened, too, and he blushed. Tendo looked as if you could eat him right up right then and there.
"Jeez.. you really came here just to flatter me." Tendo couldn't ignore the fact that no one had ever called him beautiful before. You were the first. And damn, it was a really nice feeling.
He couldn't believe it. This had to be a dream.
You couldn't really reply after how badly you stuttered you were surely traumatized from the embarrassment.
"So, how about that recipe?"
The boy eased your nerves by not turning away or insinuating that he disliked you. He wouldn't anyway. No way in a million years would he walk away.
You smiled, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing the conversation.
You gave him a social media account of your choosing so he could contact you.
Tendo asked about your club, and the two of you spoke of your many interests. He even walked with you to your bus stop.
You found that the two of you didn't have much in common, but his interest in your hobby of baking and making sweets just might change that.
It might even create a duo of married chocolatiers.
✧˖*°࿐
#haikyuu fanfiction#fanfic#haikyu x reader#tendou satori#tendo x reader#shiratorizawa#haikyuu#ushijima wakatoshi#ushiwaka#tendou x reader#romance#high school#semi eita#goshiki tsutomu
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Teach Me: The Art of Teasing (iii) - PB
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Readers
Previous Part & Next Part
Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.
Warnings: Mature, I didn't proofread this one, I will eventually 🫠
Word Count: 4.7k
Sweetbans Masterlist & Teach Me Masterlist
AN: Well well well. We meet again 😉
Friday night approached faster than you had expected. You went on the date with the girl from your class and everything went well. Both of you hit it off right at the start and the night ended with her asking to see you again. Overall it was a good time.
You get back from your date to find Paige in her room playing Fortnite. Coming in, you plop on her bed and start scrolling through your phone.
If there was anything that you learned about your best friend it was to not interrupt her while she was gaming. You only made the mistake once but it was enough to never do it again.
It was junior year of high school and you and Paige were heading back to her place after practice. Your dad had put them through a brutal practice and even though you weren't physically involved in it, it was mentally exhausting. Due to the teams' physical exhaustion, their game was off and it was hard to watch.
When you got to Paige's house, she went straight in to take a shower and you fell on her bed - falling asleep almost immediately.
You wake up, the sun already set and the only light source in your best friend's room coming from Paige's computer screen.
Stretching, you let out a low moan, your head still pounding from earlier. You sit up and scoot over the side of the bed closest to where Paige is sitting.
You tap her shoulder, wanting to see if she wants to get food.
She ignores you, eyes glued to the screen. Her headset is on and you know it would be pointless to try and talk to her.
You keep poking her, at one point trying to hold of her hand to get her attention. It isn't until Paige jerks away from you that you realize you may not be wanted there right now. You take the hint, trying not to feel too hurt that your best friend is ignoring you, and make your way home.
It wasn't late enough to be worried about driving but your headache should have been. You get home and immediately open your fridge grabbing something to eat then make your way to your own bed.
Sleep comes a little harder for you this time around - your mind is still on Paige pulling away from you. You watch the practice footage to try and pin down what the team can do to adjust, taking some notes as your eyes begin to feel heavy again. You fall asleep with your phone in your hand.
You are woken up by someone pulling your phone out of your hand.
Your eyes flutter open as you see Paige moving your phone to your nightstand.
"B?" You ask confused as to why she should be here.
She doesn't say anything, but rather gets under the covers next to you and curls up next to you. When she does, you slightly inch away from her still feeling the sting of pulling away from you earlier. She sighs.
"I'm sorry." She says. You don't respond, not really wanting to talk about it right now - not really sure why her pulling away from you affected you as much as it did.
"I get so wrapped up in the game and after the practice today, and I - I don't know," Paige says as she is now tossing in your bed. The frustration evident.
If you were honest with yourself - there is really no reason for you to be upset at the girl. You just watched the practice film again and it is clearly visible how much Paige was off her game. At the end of the day - she has the right to be frustrated even if it comes off on you.
"Noted - don't bug B when she is playing Fortnite," you joke, knowing there is no point in holding a grudge over something so simple.
Paige pushes you, then immediately pulls you back to her.
"I guess I am just not as important as your game," you say jokingly.
"Shut up and go to sleep," she says. You just shake your head and turn over, falling asleep next to your best friend.
That was also the night that you learned Paige doesn't like to sleep alone.
You aren't waiting long before Paige is off her game, jumping on her bed next to you. You don't look up from your phone when you hear her speak.
"So...how was it?" She asks, not fully knowing if she wants to hear the answer.
"It was good, we really hit it off. She wants to go out again next week," you say with a smile.
Paige just nods. She pushes you a little further.
"Did you get to put our first lesson to use?" Paige asks.
"Maybe," you say with a light blush creeping into your cheeks.
You did put your first lesson to use but it wasn't what you had expected. The kiss came after dinner when the two of you went for a walk before she dropped you off.
It was nice, but it wasn't like kissing Paige.
Never in a million years would you admit that to her, you couldn't. She's your best friend. She also goes out and has her own fun, so why couldn't you?
Paige pushes you in a teasing manner.
"Okay okay, we both need to go to bed - it's an early practice tomorrow and you, little miss, need some rest." You say as you bop her nose.
She gives her cute little Paige smile and you get up and begin to head out of her room.
"You aren't staying here tonight?" She asks - trying not to show her disappointment.
"I just need to wash my face and change B, I'll be right back," you say going into your room.
Paige sits on her bed and she feels that nagging at her heart again. She picks up her phone and scrolls through it, finding a familiar name, and shooting them a text. It takes less than a minute for them to respond.
[Come over, I'll be waiting] - 10:33pm
Paige gets up and grabs a jacket, making sure it isn't one of yours and walks out of her room.
You walk out of your room with a clean face and fresh PJs.
"Are you going somewhere?" You ask, ready to curl up in bed.
"Ya...don't worry about waiting up. I'll see you at practice tomorrow morning," she says not making eye contact with you.
"Okay B, be safe." You say, knowing exactly where she is going. There is no hiding the disappointment on your face as she walks past you and out the door.
It looks like you are sleeping in your own bed tonight.
You get to practice early to watch some recent practice films. Since seeing your IQ for the game - Geno invited you to practices which then led to him adding a 'student manager' spot for you on the team. It became a win-win situation. You got to learn from one of the best college basketball coaches and he got to another person to help bring the team to another victory. It also helped that your dad and Geno have been lifelong friends.
You are sitting in the film room - your plan was to watch the practice reels but when you are the first one in you can't help but play older game film.
Putting it on the screen, you kill the lights and sink into one of the chairs.
"My first NCAA championship win," Geno says as he walks into the room. "I can remember it like it was yesterday."
He takes a seat a few away from you and watches just as intently as you are.
"This team was incredible - you went undefeated that season and I can see why." You say, eyes not daring to rip away from the screen.
"Ya, their knowledge of the game was unlike any I have seen before. Their chemistry and willingness to put their head down and work is something that really drove the team dynamic." He says. "I think this team can get there."
You give him a hum.
"How long have you been here?" He asks knowing practice doesn't officially start for another 45 minutes.
"Oh I haven't been here long," you say which was a complete lie. You are into the fourth quarter of the game and Geno knows you never start a film midway.
He just nods, knowing not to push it. Geno has seen you grow up - it wasn't all the time but he is one of the only people who knows you almost as well as your dad. He's the only one at UConn who knows why you stopped playing basketball in the first place and that speaks volumes. He also knows that when there is something on your mind, you pour yourself into the game.
The two of you sit in silence as the game comes to a close.
"I should start watching last practice films," you say as you navigate bringing up the tapes.
"Why don't you go do a shootaround to clear your mind?" He suggests. It has been a while since you have done one and he knows it would do you good.
You nod and he follows you out.
During practices, you mess around with the team but never really put a shot up. And when it comes to working and training with Paige - it is always her. If you were honest with yourself you knew you missed the game - you missed being on the court being a part of the 5.
Geno goes to the baseline and you pick up a ball, beginning to dribble it. You put up your first shot and miss.
Geno hits you with the ball and you do a little step back going up for another. It hits the rim but falls in. You give yourself a nod and Geno hits you again. You make your way around, putting up a variety of shots. On the last one you put up, you hit from deeper than you intended, leaving your hand up as the ball finds its way perfectly into the basket.
You hear clapping come from the back corner of the gym alongside some cheering.
You whip your head around to find Azzi and Aaliyah walking towards you.
"Girl can shoot!" Aaliyah says as she comes over giving you a playful nudge.
"Why have we never seen you shoot?" Azzi asks. "You are actually really good."
"Well duh she is good - she is the reason our team shooting average has gone up 5%," Aaliyah says as if it was a known thing that you could play ball.
The rest of the team begins to arrive and Paige walks up to the three of you.
"Yo P, you just missed it!" Aaliyah says as she goes on about seeing you put up a deep three. Paige turns to you with tired eyes but a surprising look.
Whenever you and Paige would practice, you would rarely put up a shot. She would always encourage you knowing you used to play but you always refused. Paige would try and push it but you would straight up end the practice which then forced Paige to back off. As close of friends as you are - she has never seen you put up a three. Now her teammates have and can't stop raving about it which causes a jealous fire to burn within her. If Paige just would have left and gone home last night (or in the dark hours of the morning) then she would have arrived with Azzi and Aaliyah. But no, she spent the night at that girl's apartment and had to go grab her practice gear before coming.
Paige nods, eyes not leaving you.
You on the other hand were fixated on Azzi and Aaliyah as Geno claps for everyone to get moving.
You make your way to the practice room and Paige runs up to walk with you.
"So you're putting up threes now?" Paige says, trying not to sound hurt because in the grand scheme of things she had no reason to be.
"Just clearing my mind," you say picking up your playbook.
Just as Paige is about to ask why you were clearing your head Geno is yelling at Paige to get geared up for practice so she bites her tongue.
Paige heads in and gets ready.
The team made it through practice - they were getting ready for the toughest game of the season. You are sitting at your desk in the office finishing up some work when Paige walks in and sits across from you.
The whole practice, you couldn't take your eyes off of her. It was painful. The memory of her leaving last night and your imagination creating the plot of what happened after she left had you sick. It wasn't the first time she went out to have a good time with someone who you never asked about but with new feelings stirring in you about your best friend.
"So...clearing your mind?" Paige asks, not dropping the topic from before practice. Similarly to you, Paige's mind was going a mile a minute. She was trying to suppress the jealousy that just continued to build every time she saw Azzi talk to you during practice. Paige had been trying for years to get you to do a shoot around and they got to see you do one without asking. Paige was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing she did today.
"Yep, I didn't sleep well," you say not looking at her. That was as much as you wanted to disclose.
Paige felt her heart fall. You didn't say it but she knew it had to do with her telling you to get ready and then running out last night. She didn't really want to but knew she needed a distraction from you - if Paige was honest with herself, she would have much rather slept by your side.
"I also didn't sleep well," Paige says.
You finally look up at her.
"I'm surprised you slept at all," you say starting to joke with her again.
Paige's hand comes up to her face, rubbing it to hide the blush creeping up her neck and face. She mumbles 'should've stayed home' and you chuckle.
"Well can't change the past but we can both go home and nap," you say packing up your stuff and standing.
Paige stands awkwardly, all her normal confidence drained from her.
You grab her arm and hook yours around it and walk out. Paige tries to shake the feeling of having you so close to her but all she can think about is the feeling of your lips on her. How your skin felt on her fingertips. How her body was on fire when it was pressed up against yours.
The two of you make your way back to the apartment and you immediately fall onto your bed.
"B, come lay down and nap with me." You say, eyes closed. Paige is just standing in your room, slowly pacing.
"B, come here." You say.
She sighs and sits on your bed, not lying down yet.
"Why haven't you ever done a shoot around with me?" Paige asks.
"B, you know I don't want to talk about it," you say with a groan.
"You never want to talk about it," she says almost mad that you won't talk to her about the most dramatic time of your life.
"When I am ready, I will," you say sitting up. "Where is this coming from?" You say coming to sit next to her.
She shakes her head and suddenly feels silly about how much missing you shoot a basketball is affecting her. She looks down at her hands picking at her nails.
You grab her hands and bring them to your lap.
"B, what's up? Talk to me." You say begging her.
"I didn't get to see it," she says. "It is so dumb to think about how much not seeing you shoot a basketball is making me feel but I have known you for how long now and I haven't seen you do what I love. I have bugged you so much to get you to shoot with me and you never do. Now Azzi and Aaliyah have seen something I have waiting so long to see and," Paige tries to find the words.
"Hey, B. No one was supposed to see it. That was for me and no one else. They just happened to get to practice early, which usually includes you..." you say trying to get her to get out of her head over the matter.
"When I am ready, I will tell you, I promise." You say looking at your best friend.
She just nods, looking into your eyes. She slowly begins to lean in, her eyes flickering in between your eyes and your lips. You try to maintain your breathing as Paige moves closer to you.
Her hands remove from yours, one of them coming to your face, caressing it in the softest manner. This is the complete opposite of what Paige was doing last night. Any time Paige goes and meets some random girl it is always fast and needy, always self-focused. This is different. You are different.
You lick your lip and lightly bite down on it. Paige's eyes nearly roll back at the sight. Her thumb comes up and removes your lip from your bite, yet again.
"I should shower," Paige says just above a whisper, her eyes not leaving your lips. Her breathing is uneven. You are right in front of her, she could take you right here, right now and you would be hers. You are willing to let her do anything she wants and you want to tell her that but you just nod.
"When I am out, we will start your next lesson," Paige says as she rubs your bottom lip with her thumb. "The art of teasing."
Paige then gets up and makes her way to take a shower, leaving you there stunned and excited for what is to come.
You lay down and begin scrolling on your phone. After waiting about 20 minutes and still hearing the shower on, you close your eyes to rest.
When you realize you have fallen asleep, you shoot up. Looking around, you see Paige asleep next to you. Her arms wrapped around one of your pillows, her phone right next to her hand. You smile when you see her and lay back down. This is your normal. You missed this.
You lay and scroll on your phone a little longer before getting up and deciding to work on some homework. You grab your laptop, sit on your side of your bed, and begin working. You are deep into a paper when you feel the bed shift.
"Mmmmmm," Paige groans and stretches out knocking your laptop off your lap.
"Hey!" You say grabbing it before it falls on the floor.
"Put it away," she says. "Time for a lesson," she is now making her way to a sitting position as she rubs her eyes.
You listen and close your computer, putting it on the floor next to your bed, and sit to face her.
"I'm ready," you say more excited than you are ready to admit.
"When you are getting ready to start something with your partner - you don't just want to rush into things. You want to make sure that you are getting her ready and making sure she feels good." Paige says as you hang on to every word.
"I am going to need you to be very verbal okay? I need you to tell me everything you are thinking." She says.
"Okay," you respond.
"First I am going to try things on you and you need to tell me if they feel good okay? Then it will be your turn." Paige says as she takes your hand and stands up, taking you with her.
"Got it," you say now standing to face her.
"Close your eyes," Paige says and you give her a questioning look. "Just do it ma."
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
You hear Paige shuffle around and you feel her move your hair to one side of your neck.
Her hands make their way to your waist, almost as if to keep you where you are (or more like keep her grounded). She begins whispering in your ear, lips ever so slightly grazing the shell of your earlobe.
"You look so hot standing here waiting for me to touch you." She says sending chills down your spine. Her lips hover over your shoulder as she kisses it. You hum at the contact.
Paige's lips pepper kisses up your neck. Her hand comes up and tilts your neck to the side, giving her more access.
You groan when her lips hit the sweet spot right under your ear.
"Feels...so good B," you moan as she continues on your neck.
Her hand which is still on your hip, wraps around and makes its way under your shirt, resting on your stomach. Her fingers take in the feeling of your skin on them.
You lean back into her as you feel yourself wanting more.
Her hands make their way to the bottom of your shirt, "Can I take this off, babe?"
"Yes," is the only thing you trust yourself to say.
She lifts your shirt over your head. You suddenly feel like Paige can see everything but you are still in your shorts and bra. Your arms come around to try and cover your front but Paige just grabs them, putting them down and making her way to stand in front of you.
"Don't you dare hide from me, ma. You are gorgeous." Paige says looking into your eyes. You nod and blush.
"Thanks, B."
Your hand is the first to move as it comes up to her cheek and you pull her in. You know she is leading but you have been dying to feel her lips on yours again.
Your lips find hers and she is immediately fighting you for dominance. You cave and give it to her, knowing it is going to be hard to not bend to her will every single time whenever you are in these lessons.
Paige hooks her fingers in your shorts bringing your hips to hers then pushing you down on the bed.
She takes a second to take you in, wanting to remember this even if it is only to teach you.
"Is everything okay?" You ask, confused as to why she stopped.
"Couldn't be better," she says as she makes her way to you.
"So with teasing, you want to get the other riled up. You want to turn them on and get them ready for what is to come. Or should I say to get them to come," Paige jokes and you just roll your eyes.
"You are unbelievable," you say now laughing at your best friend.
One of her hands draws shape on your inner thigh and her lips come to hover above your torso.
"But I'm right, and that is what I will show you," she says as she is now peppering kissing on your stomach.
Her lips make their way up to your chest, then eventually your neck again. Your breath picks up and becomes uneven.
"Your lips feel so good," you say squeezing your eyes shut. She hums against your skin and begins to make her way back down your body. Your hands come up to her head as you run your fingers through her hair.
Paige uses her hands to push your shorts up a little then places a kiss on your thigh and you let out the loudest moan yet. This causes a pool to form both in your center and hers. She moves one of your legs to continue placing kisses on your inner thigh, lightly sucking on your sensitive skin.
"Paige!" You yell, not knowing what else to do. You have never felt this good before and she hasn't even truly touched you. She stops immediately and looks up at you. You are panting now, looking into her eyes.
Her pupils are dilated. Hearing you yell her name does something to her that she can't explain.
"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from," you say embarrassed.
She shakes her head no, "Don't ever apologize for such a beautiful sound."
She crawls up to hover above you.
"Okay babe, you got a glimpse of areas that feel good, do you think you want to give it a go?" She asks and you nod.
"Come on babe, you know I need to hear you," she says.
"I can try," you say.
Paige lays next to you as you shift to hover above her.
"I am going to kiss your neck," you say a little nervous but lean in and lightly press your lips to her neck. You bring one of your legs in between Paige's and let your weight rest on her.
"Is this okay?" You ask her.
"More than okay ma," she says. "Use your hand to hold my head to the side to give you more access to my neck." She directs and you follow her instructions.
Your lips come back to her neck as you begin to kiss and suck on certain parts of her neck. You hear her let out the quietest moan and you take that as a sign that you are doing a good job.
"Can I take this off?" You ask as you pinch at her shirt.
"Shit, of course, baby," she says and you lift it above her head and toss it to the side of your bed.
Your lips come and kiss the center of her sports bra and begin to kiss lower on her stomach. You take your time kissing every ab. This is what gets a louder moan to escape from Paige's lips as her fingers go to grip your sheets. You continue further down and do exactly what she did to you, pushing her shorts up and kissing along her inner thigh.
Paige has never had someone spend this kind of time on her. It is usually her pleasing other girls and she typically takes pride in that. It is usually her ability to make girls feel good that is enough for her but here she is, sprawled out in front of her best friend - the girl she loves but would never admit to, feeling the best she has ever felt and this was only your first time.
"Feels so good," she moans as you continue to kiss her skin. Her hand comes up to your head. Your hand comes to hers and brings it around so you can kiss the inside of her wrist.
"You are something else," Paige says almost out of breath. You just chuckle and continue to kiss up her arm.
"Am I doing good B?" You ask as you are once again hovering above her.
Her hand comes to your face stroking your cheek.
She wants to tell you how incredible you are and how she wants you to be hers. She wants to tell you not to date that girl from your class and that she'll stop seeing other girls. That she is all yours if you will have her. She wants to tell you how she can't stop thinking about you or the way your lips belong to her. She wants to tell you she loves you and has for years now. But none of that comes out and she takes a deep breath and settles for something that won't expose her love for you.
"A+."
AN: Please let me know what you think, I have mixed feelings about this one. You guys have been awesome in this series, I truly appreciate it! And as always, thank you for you love and support 💙
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Ma Belle
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: Mafia AU, fluff
Summary: an arranged leads to a few struggles. The main one being that Max and Charles can only seem to summon their wife with her favorite movie.
Dialouge prompt: "It's okay baby, you're safe with us." "Yes we can watch the same movie for the millionth time, love."
Warnings: arranged marriage, daddy issues
Notes: part of my 1000 followers event. Requests are open again for regular asks btw (poly, lando, oscar, charles, Max, daniel, and logan for sure, and Liam and Carlos, depending on the request)👀
Masterlist
Being a bargaining chip had been her purpose. The only reason she was born. In the possibility some kind of treaty needed to be made, she would be there.
So she learned how to be perfect. How to look the part her father needed her to. Played the game that everyone in this line of work plays.
Regardless of if everything in her mind is screaming to back out and run away as they sign the papers. She's being married off to not just one man, but two men who she doesn't know. They know each other. They'd supposedly been in her situation and have been married for a while already. They look at her with Kindess. A Dutch named Max and a Monegasque names Charles. A sympathy maybe only They can share with her.
She closes herself off the second they are alone. She is nothing more then a possession. A piece on the board for if things go wrong. These two don't actually want her and they already have each other. Why is she even here? Because of some treaty?
She ignores them. Keeps her distance. Pretends they don't exist. All the while watching the same move over and over again when they aren't around to hear.
Beauty and the Beast is her comfort movie. The one consistent in her life apart violence and backwards politics. She's not sure where it came from, the love for this movie. Maybe it's the comfort she finds in knowing she's not the only one locked away for some underlying purpose.
Max and Charles, to their credit, attempt to make am effort while not scaring her further away. They offer food at her door when she doesn't want to come out. They make attempts to show her affection. They give her space when she needs and don't push for more them she is willing to give.
Max and Charles weren't supposed to be home until later. Out on 'buisness' which code for something probably illegal. Which means, she wraps herself up in a blanket and makes her way to the television. She puts on her comfort movie and promptly passes out after a having a sleepless night in her own bed.
When the two males return, they find her asleep with the movie long forgotten. They don't move her, but instead restart the film. They stay with her until she wakes.
The shock hits first and then something like bewilderment follows. She eats with them after that and even keeps up some light conversation.
They tell her that the situation isn't ideal, but they made the most of it and intend on doing the same with her. They comfort and hold. They keep her safe when she needs it. They spoil her when she lets them.
But most importantly, they watch the same movie with her over and over again.
On this particular occasion, she was coming home from a visit with her father. The man who basically abandoned her with unfamiliar men for the entirety of her life. It left her feeling drained and insecure. She had been prepared for this her entire life and somehow she wasn't treating Max and Charles like she knows a good wife should.
She collapses on the couch. She pays no attention to anything else and just sobs. You'd think she was injured. Maybe even dying. Though this certainly felt like death. The idea that Max and Charles will leave her one day, send her back to her father who will find some other way to use her. It makes her stomach churn.
The two males take in the scene before them. Charles hastily fumbles for the the remote and sets up the movie they've watched almost everyday for a month now. He it man enough to admit its grown on him and he has the lyrics of every song memorized and working on turning it into piano music. Max sets about getting the female upright. She goes unwilling and ends up with her head in Max's lap.
"liefde, what's got you in tears?" Max makes an attempt at drying her tears only for more to show up.
She hiccups a few times. "I'm not a good enough wife, but I'll do better I promise. Just, please, don't send me back."
Charles joins the on the couch and runs nimble fingers along her skin. "Did something happen with your father to make you think that?"
"He used to make me pretend to be a wife to some of the men who work for him." Her eyes get cloudy thinking back to the memories. Her childhood was not one she looks back at fondly. "I just want to be enough."
"Dry your tears." Max starts before she can spiral again. "It's okay, baby, you're safe here with us. You're trying your best, and we know this kind of situation isn't easy. Just let us show you we care, yes?"
She looks up to see the movie ready to be played. The soft music in the background instantly calms her. "You don't mind?"
"We can watch the same movie for the millionth time, amour." Charles laughs softly when he sees her smile. "It really is a good movie."
"Charles is jealous." Max smirks playfully.
A genuinepang of curiosity hits her. "Of who?"
"Belle, because I'm the beast and he's obviously Gaston."
"Why am I Gaston?!"
"Because you wear red all the time, duh."
#x reader#formula one#f1 fic#fanficion#formula 1#racing#f1 fanfic#max verstappen#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen f1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x charles leclerc#lestappen#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1#cl16 x you#cl16 imagine#cl16#cl16 x reader
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Written for the @steddiemicrofic June challenge.
Packrat
June Prompt: Stuff | Word Count: 483 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Long-Term Relationship, Moving, One of Them is a Packrat, And It Isn't Steve
"How'd we end up with this much stuff, Jesus Christ!?" Eddie shouts from the other room, sounding exasperated. And he's not wrong. For living in such a small apartment, they've sure gathered up a lot of shit that they are now having to pack.
Steve doesn't dare tell Eddie it's him. That he's the goddamn packrat around here, so he says nothing, continuing to wrap the dozens of mismatched fast food glasses with cartoon characters splashed on the exterior, in sheets of newspaper.
Eddie saves, collects, everything.
Glasses, Happy Meal toys, and honestly, why is this grown man ordering Happy Meals? Steve is unsure, but he's got proof by way of a drawerful of toys, mixed in with the takeout packets of ketchup, and for some godforsaken reason, the twist ties off sandwich bread. Like, hundreds upon hundreds, all snarled together in their junk drawer.
Stuff, everywhere.
Steve gets it, he thinks. It's from the way Eddie grew up, wanting, needing, saving scraps for a rainy day. Steve never had to do that, and doesn't hang onto things he isn't absolutely sure he'll need again.
Do they need forty-seven empty butter containers? Steve's pretty sure the answer is no. His mom gave them a huge set of Tupperware that she definitely had no need for herself, because she doesn't cook, but that she bought at some home party to impress her friends.
But Eddie deemed the Tupperware to be too nice to use everyday, so now it's squirreled away, and they're stuck reaching in the fridge, playing the 'is this really the butter?' game.
Now. Here they are.
Steve's packed butter containers and Cool Whip containers, and a few empty pickle jars, putting them into boxes, when he's pretty sure they should have just gone straight into the trash.
But, he's been in Wayne's house. Wayne's kitchen. And well, Eddie didn't suck this out of his thumb. He learned it from the man with a wall full of caps and mugs.
And since Steve loves them both, more than anything, he'll pack up these things that should have been long thrown away, and cart them over to their first home.
Eddie comes waltzing into the room, Steve's nailbat pinched between two fingers. He must have made it to the back of the closet, then.
"Do we really need to keep this?" Eddie asks, holding it up, like it's offending him.
Steve wants to grab two fistfuls of bread ties, and ask him the same goddamn question.
Instead, Steve just says, "Yes, we need to keep that. Just in case."
"I mean, it's been eight years," Eddie wheedles.
"I feel better knowing it's there," Steve says, and that's the god's honest truth. He does. He sleeps better knowing it's waiting, just in case.
Eddie shrugs, but has the audacity to say, "Okay. It's just a lot of stuff."
Steve won't kill him.
Probably. Maybe.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️
#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficjune#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddiemicrofic
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everyone but her pt.36
Summary: It's the new year and you're determined to start it off better than the last. But really, how smooth could it go when you associate with an Addams and her group of Outcasts?
Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: swearing, mental instability, mental illness, grieving, murder Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)
“How was your new year?” Mama Weems asked. “Do anything exciting with the group?”
“We did “exciting” last year and have been suffering for it ever since,” you said. “We stayed in and played Jackbox Games.”
If you had been sitting across the table from her, like a normal person would, you would have seen her smile over the lip of her coffee cup. But you weren’t a normal person, and you weren’t sitting across the table. No, you were sitting right beside her, so close that you could feel the warmth from her side. A warmth that you didn’t really get from anyone else.
Not that it was Wednesday’s fault, of course. She was just… a little cold-blooded. And she had the audacity to get stingy with her kisses around this time of year. Which was rude, honestly, and partially why you had ditched her to hang out with Mama Weems instead. It definitely wasn’t because she was hanging out with Enid.
“How have you been, darling?” Mama Weems asked. Her arm felt nice wrapped around your shoulders. “Truthfully.”
Don’t admit to anything, the voice in the back of your head practically growled. If there was anything you hated, it was that stupid voice. Never leaving, somehow always chiming in when you didn’t want it to. There really wasn’t anything about it that made you feel it was necessary. Or even wanted. Why couldn’t it just let you make your own decisions?
“I’m tired,” you said in a soft voice. Humiliating. “I just want things to go back to how they were.”
Mama Weems’ pulled you the miniscule distance closer. She wasn’t as warm as Enid, but no one was as warm as Enid. It didn’t change much, warm was warm. And you had been feeling so very cold lately. Not the kind of cold that could be fixed with a blanket and someone to hold, but a cold that reached into your soul and refused to let go.
A coward. That damned voice was getting more and more demanding. More vicious. It was almost clawing at the back of your mind, gauging ravines into your brain and devouring anything in its way. Like a feral beast trapped in a cage, desperate to escape.
Wow. That was almost poetic. Maybe Wednesday was rubbing off on you.
“I wish I could say it was all part of growing up,” Mama Weems said, bringing you back to the situation at hand. Right. Coffee. “But I wouldn’t wish to diminish your experiences with a simple solution.”
She shouldn’t impart such wise words. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want wise words, you just wanted a hug. A warm hug that was a little too nice and that could make you forget about everything just for a few seconds. Hugs weren’t exactly Wednesday’s thing, even though she tried. Oh she tried, the sweet thing, but you couldn’t make her uncomfortable for something that wouldn’t even fix anything.
“How has therapy been going?” She asked. “Has it been helping?”
“A bit,” you said with a nod.
It wasn’t a lie; it really was helping a bit. Shaun was nice, you supposed. And he at least outwardly seemed to care, so that was nice too. And you were even starting to learn to open up! Okay, not a lot and it was still an uphill battle, but you had told Wednesday two things about your parents. Oh yeah. You were making progress.
Except.
“Really need him after the holidays,” you said softly.
The holidays themselves were fine. You weren’t necessarily the biggest fan of Christmas, but you enjoyed spending the time with your family. And Wednesday, but spending time with her was a given. No, you wouldn’t deny that the holiday time was something worth interrupting your routine for.
It was the murder.
If no one had turned on the news that Christmas morning, you never would have known. You weren’t even sure who had actually done it, if they had even done it on purpose in the first place. All you remembered was you had all been getting ready to play No Mercy Uno, and the TV was on.
Murder on the Polar Express. That was the dumb title the news station had written on the little banner on the bottom of the screen. A title that had nothing to do with the grisly murder of some poor college girl in DC. Some girl that was apparently associated with Kristi, because she was the one who had come forward for the press release.
There was no proof that it had anything to do with you. No proof at all, in any direction. But you would admit, it was starting to get creepy. First Mr. Hart and then this new girl? You had plenty of reasons to hate Marcus and Kristi, but that didn’t mean you wanted anyone to get hurt.
You like when they suffer, the voice in your head had growled when Kristi let a tear slip. Probably fake, but you couldn’t prove it.
“Are you seeing him again soon?” Mama Weems asked.
Right. You were at the cafe. You really needed to stop letting yourself get carried away, it was starting to make you think that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to lose your mind.
“I need to,” you said with a sigh.
“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, pulling you tighter and pressing a feather-light kiss on the top of your head.
Now that was worth coming back to the present for.
—---
“Would you consider me mentally unstable?” You asked as you expertly flipped the pancake in the skillet. Maybe you should be a chef.
“Of course,” Yoko answered without hesitation.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” you emphasised, “I was asking Wednesday.”
“Then be more specific next time,” she said.
You grumbled, but supposed she was right. It’s what you got for inviting the trio over for breakfast. That was what happened when you didn’t listen to Wednesday. She had warned you not to invite them. Sure, it was because she just didn’t want to put up with anyone, but still! Maybe your girlfriend was always right!
Not that you would tell her. You couldn’t have her getting a big head.
“Do you have reason to believe you’re mentally unstable?” Wednesday asked as she appeared beside you. Back at Nevermore, her silent movements would have scared you. But not anymore, you were a professional now.
You shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Then no,” she said, holding the plate out for you to finish sliding the last remaining pancake onto the rather impressive tower.
“Don’t say it,” you heard Divina whisper when you and Wednesday walked over to the table where the three were sitting patiently.
Well. Except for Enid.
“Damn Wednesday,” Yoko said anyway, “Big Bird has turned you soft.”
“Yoko,” Enid and Divina scolded simultaneously.
“I’ll give you one chance to repeat that belief,” Wednesday said. Her glare at the vampire was phenomenal. Fuck, you loved her.
Yoko looked at Wednesday. “These look delicious,” she said instead, instantly grabbing food from the plates laid out on the table.
“Coward,” Divina chuckled lightly.
“You try shit talking the goth girl over there,” Yoko whispered back.
“I believe Enid is the only one of you that has any survival skills,” Wednesday said.
Everyone looked over to the pup, and you had to do your best not to laugh at her. Even though everyone had only gotten settled not even two minutes ago, Enid was already finishing off her third pancake and was in the process of grabbing more. The berries had been haphazardly pushed to the side of her plate, and all the bacon and sausage had not-so-mysteriously disappeared.
It was a good thing you still had plenty of batter. This might end up being only Enid’s breakfast.
The woman herself froze after realising everyone was looking at her. “Did you guys want some?” She asked with her mouth full.
“Eat away, E,” you said with a quiet laugh. “I can always make more.”
She just smiled - as best she could with a dry pancake nearly to her lips - before continuing to tear into the food. Everyone else was quick to follow, though they all managed to be a little more… civilised. Or they did. You struggled to maintain much more composure than Enid. Thank gods you made the both of you some protein pancakes so it wasn’t another breakfast massacre.
As much as you knew Wednesday loved to gripe and complain about having people over, it was easy to tell she loved it. There was no overt way to notice, and truthfully you weren’t even sure if Enid would know. But it was there. In her small outward complaints about what everyone was doing, even though you had never seen her hands so relaxed. In the open judgement of everyone’s opinions while that furrow of her brows all but disappeared. In the comfort of her willingly holding your hand and letting it rest on the table where everyone could see.
It was nice. Not anything extravagant, nothing that most would consider memorable, but for you? The mundane feeling of it all? It was one of the best moments of your life. Your family was all together in one spot, you were all just existing and it was perfect. No worries, no cares, nothing amiss. A perfect morning.
It’s going to come crashing down, the voice said.
You looked down at your plate and refused to look up. The pressure in your head left a fuzzy haze around the edge of your vision. But you knew better. Nothing could get you to look back up at the carnage that you would undoubtedly see. It was like a filter, covering everyone in blood and gore, setting the scene of a bloody massacre that wasn’t even real.
Something cold rested on your thigh; one of the few times you were thankful that Wednesday naturally ran cooler than most. The smallest change in temperature, even for just a moment, had the fog dissipating and the almost inaudible rumbling fading back into nothing.
“Breathe,” Wednesday whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure the werewolf and vampire senses could hear it.
Her thumb rubbed against your knee. A constant, feather-light touch that would have been infuriating in any other sense. But when it was drawing you back down to earth, it was a godsend. Something to focus on. Even just the sight of her shiny black nails kept you grounded.
“Good girl,” Wednesday said with a light squeeze to your thigh.
You almost wished she would have left you in that mental hellscape, because you knew everyone else had heard that phrase.
“Don’t,” Divina said, and you looked up just in time to see Yoko’s shit-eating grin.
“Why am I not surprised?” Yoko asked anyway.
“I hope you enjoyed breakfast,” Wednesday started.
“Because you’re never getting invited again,” you finished.
“Can I still come?” Enid asked.
“Yeah, don’t make us suffer because she can’t shut up,” Divina chimed in, still taking her time in eating her breakfast. Which… you supposed everyone else was too, aside from you and Enid.
“You’re both throwing me under the bus?” Yoko asked incredulously.
“Seems they have some common sense,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of her coffee that you couldn’t guarantee was still hot. The slight grimace on her face gave you the answer.
“You two can still come,” you said as you stood up and grabbed the coffee pot. “It would be lonely without a bit of company.”
“Wednesday isn’t enough for you?” Yoko asked.
You glared at her while pouring the coffee into Wednesday’s mug. Then Enid’s, then Divina’s. You purposefully ignored the mug Yoko held out for you, and you didn’t feel the least bit sorry for it. If she wanted to be a dick, you were going to treat her like the nuisance she really was.
“Keep your girl in line, you two,” you said with a raised brow before standing up, grabbing empty plates to take to the sink. “I’d hate to see Wednesday end her bloodline.”
“It would be the wisest option,” Wednesday agreed. A few more plates clinked against each other before she appeared beside you, carefully placing the small pile of plates into the sink.
“Can your bloodline end like that?” Divina whispered from the table.
“Shut up,” Yoko whispered back, “you’re both leaving me to Wednesday!”
Divina laughed.
“Enid, help me out here.”
“Huh?” You heard Enid mumble around what was probably another pancake. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
You did your best not to laugh at the bickering continuing behind you. From your peripheral, you could see Wednesday was in the same boat. Not that she laughed aloud, but you could see the smallest uptick of the corner of her mouth. Most of the time she would try to hide it, but she wasn’t even trying even as she got started on assisting with the dishes.
And by god did you fall just a little more in love.
The rest of the morning went by quickly. Not that anyone really had any plans aside from hanging out. Kent and Ajax popped by to bring some of the veggies from their little in-apartment garden. As usual, Wednesday was severely disappointed that they weren’t poisonous. You made a mental note to ask her mom for dangerous plant advice.
“If you feel concerned about your stability,” Wednesday said after everyone was gone and you had both laid on the couch, “you should go meet with Shaun.”
You sighed. “I know.” You pulled her closer until you could rest your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll go tomorrow morning.”
“A wise decision,” she said softly. “You can go to coffee with Casey and Devan after.”
You froze. How did she know?
She’s watching you, the voice taunted. She doesn’t trust you.
“They called you over Christmas,” she said, almost as if she could sense your discomfort. “You had not yet decided if you were going or not.”
Right. Right, you remembered that. Of course it was that simple. Something heavy settled in your stomach. Had you really nearly believed that stupid voice that Wednesday, your Wednesday, was spying on you? Why? Why would you trust something that, so far, had said nothing good to you since its appearance?
Wednesday’s cold lips pressed against the inside of your wrist. She had to bend your arm a little awkwardly to do so, but you didn’t care. If it meant you could feel her mouth over that pulse point, you would bend any way she wished. You knew she was sparing with her physical affection, and you were going to enjoy every little moment of it.
“Tomorrow will help,” she whispered against your skin.
Yeah, you thought as you pressed your own kiss to the back of her neck. Tomorrow will help.
—---
It was a lie. It was all a lie. Tomorrow, as you and Wednesday had initially thought, would not help.
You and Wednesday had both fallen asleep on the couch, which was weird enough on its own. Usually, she would wake you both up to move to the bed, even if it was only for an hour or two. But when you both woke up, you were still in the same place you had been the night before. Even the TV was still on the same channel, running some reruns of Star Trek.
Then your phone had been close to dead. Seeing as you had fallen asleep on the couch, you hadn’t plugged it in. When you had finally gotten up, you noticed your phone only had a small bit of battery left. Only enough to set up a time with Casey and Devan, and to call Shaun. Perfect.
“When will you go to the coffee shop?” Wednesday asked as you hopped around the room, trying not to die while you pulled your sweats on.
“My appointment is at nine so… sometime after 10, I guess?” You said.
“How will I know where you are?” Wednesday asked. She placed her hands on your hips to keep you still for a moment. It was nice.
“If I’m not at Shaun’s or the coffee shop, then I’ve been kidnapped or murdered,” you said with a nod. “Exact revenge as necessary.”
Wednesday nodded once before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. You loved those kisses. They were rare, and they were cold, and they sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to call Shaun and tell him you couldn’t come in anymore. But when Wednesday ushered you out the door, you knew you had to go be an adult, at least for a little while.
And then you had nearly been late to your appointment. Because gods forbid something goes right.
“You’re still frazzled,” Shaun said from his stupid therapist chair.
Yoko had scolded you once for calling it a therapist chair, but she couldn’t argue that it was anything else. It was! It was the long half-chair-half-sofa thing that you thought only belonged in a rich person’s house and was used for nothing but showing off. From looks alone, it wasn’t even comfortable.
“It’s just,” you shrugged, “a lot.”
“Well,” Shaun sighed, “you’ve mentioned your parents, that intern’s murder, and your frustration with the world at large.” He waited until you met his eyes. “Anything else bothering you?”
Everything, you wanted to say. The cruelty of a world that refused to let you rest. Your brother’s ghost that haunted you so irregularly that you may as well consider him nothing but the occasional jumpscare. Knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t actually keep anyone safe.
You’re a coward, the voice said. You will let them all burn in the fires of your mistakes.
Never mind. You knew what to talk about.
“There’s a voice,” you said as you tapped your finger against your temple. “It’s like the devil on your shoulder, except it won’t shut up.”
Shaun tilted his head and shifted in his seat. “A voice?” You nodded. “What does it sound like?”
“The first few times it sounded like Nicky,” you said, as if it wasn’t as terrible of a feeling as it truly was. It was like the words flew right out of your mouth. “Then it was…” you sighed. “Almost him?” You questioned. “But distorted?”
“What does it tell you?” Shaun asked.
“It-”
-Tell him, the voice said. Far too eagerly. Tell him of all the things we talk about. You shivered. Tell him of all the things I show you.
Why was it so eager to be known? How was it going to benefit from being exposed? Now that it wanted you to, you wanted to keep your mouth shut. You were a conspiracy theorist at heart, and Wednesday had given you some useful paranoia, so you could pick out a bad idea from a mile away.
And this now seemed like a very bad idea.
“Just… things,” you said.
Coward.
“What kind of things?”
He sounded too eager. Way too eager. You did your best to hide your “suspicious face,” as Wednesday had called it, before turning around to look at him. Something uncomfortable crawled over your skin when you saw him leaning forward in his chair. Elbows resting on his knees and eyes wide and if you really let your mind go crazy, maybe even the smallest hint of a smile.
Tell him, the voice said. Tell him tell him tell him-
-the little chant in your head continued to speed up, carving the words into your skull. It felt like the incessant words were making your teeth vibrate and your eyes ache. Maybe if you told him, it would stop. You could have some peace and quiet for once.
But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something would go wrong.
“You should listen to it.”
“What?” You blurted out.
Shaun blinked hard before sitting back in the chair. You knew false relaxation when you saw it. Wednesday had taught you all the tips and tricks of a liar. But this? This was different. That glint in his eyes had disappeared and he almost looked… lost? Like he didn’t know where that had come from.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did. You weren’t sure which answer you would have liked better.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think I need to cut this short.” He scratched his head hesitantly, now no longer even looking at you. “I’m sorry.”
You nodded but didn’t leave. Did he mean it? Did he really want you to leave? But when he still didn’t look back up and instead let his head fall into his hands, you recognised the position. Hell, you were in it all the time when your brain was overloading. He meant it.
Never again would you say therapy was boring.
—---
Casey and Devan were cool. And you weren’t just saying that because they had bought you your coffee. Although that was also pretty cool, because you had maybe three dollars in your wallet. But now that you could actually just sit and talk with them? It was nice. It reminded you of sitting with Nicky.
They knew stories about Nicky that you hadn’t even remembered. Stories that, most likely, you had never known in the first place. You had known him as your big brother, as your best friend. But really, he had a whole life outside of you. He went on adventures, had two partners, experienced things that you hadn’t been old enough to experience with him.
Part of it hurt; you wouldn’t try to act like it didn’t. It sounded like he was happy. Really, truly, genuinely happy. Why wouldn’t he have told you about any of it? Did he not think you would be happy for him? That you wouldn’t be proud of him for having a life outside of the horrifying upbringing you had both been subjected to?
“You’re gonna leave me just like mom and dad.”
Oh. Right. That was why he hadn’t told you.
But the other part of you was still happy to get to hear the fun things he got to do. To know that he did get to live a fairly normal life. He got to be a teenager, got to grow up and actually enjoy things. He went to movies, went on dates, did fun things without having to worry about things.
Without having to worry about you.
Maybe meeting up with Casey and Devan wasn’t as fun as it originally sounded.
“How’s it going with your girlfriend?” Casey asked. He was the one that did most of the talking, though you had at least finally gotten a few things out of Devan over the course of coffee.
“Good,” you said without hesitation. “It’s going well.”
And it was. Aside from the typical issues with your fucking brain, you couldn’t really ask for more from Wednesday. In public she was still nearly as cold as she had been in Nevermore. Only close enough for people to know the two of you were in the same company. If you hadn’t already agreed to allow her to maintain her scary dog privileges, you would have teased her for the fact that she still stood just a little too close and let her knuckles brush against your thigh.
But in private, it was something entirely different. She still wasn’t incredibly physically loving, which you had known and accepted from the very beginning. No, her love was still something subtle, showing itself in the most subtle of ways. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have thought it would be enough to push past all the beliefs that you would never be loved. But now? No, now you knew it was more than enough; it was exactly what you needed.
“You met her at Nevermore, right?” Casey asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You nodded. “Did you go there?” You asked. “Is that where you met Nicky?”
“Met him at a bookstore,” Devan said. Their gruff voice never failed to surprise you.
“That’s disgustingly cute,” you mumbled before taking a long drink of your coffee. “So you’re Normies?”
Even looking into your cup, you noticed the slightest flinch from Casey.
“We’re shapeshifters,” they said.
“The both of you?” You asked. They nodded. “Haven’t met very many of you.”
“That you know of,” Devan said.
You laughed humourlessly. “Suppose that’s a good point.”
The doors to the little cafe opened, jingling the little bell that hung from the doorframe. You all turned to look to see who was coming in - for no other reason than to be nosey - but your face fell when you saw Wednesday. She looked frazzled; that wasn’t right.
“Wends?” You asked, your head tilting slightly.
She looked around the room, and her shoulders only relaxed after meeting your eyes. But there was still something on her face that you couldn’t quite describe. It wasn’t a typical look for her, far more… uptight? Her knuckles were more pale than usual as she practically ran to where you were sitting.
“You’ve been here the whole time?” She asked you, not even paying attention to Casey or Devan on the other side of the table.
“I mean, after my appointment, but yeah,” you said. “Are you okay?”
“You were here?” She asked again. “You left therapy?”
“Yes, Wednesday, I left therapy,” you said. You shifted until you were facing her from your place in the booth. “What happened?”
She hesitated. And it wasn’t like Wednesday to hesitate.
“Wednesday,” you said, a little louder. Not for the whole cafe to hear, but to grab her attention.
It worked.
“Shaun’s receptionist called a few minutes ago,” she said.
You let out an airy chuckle. “If that’s all, it’s probably because my card declined-”
“-They found a foot in his office.”
Oh. So it wasn’t a courtesy call.
“He was fine when I left,” you said softly, not really even speaking to anyone in particular. “Surely no one just… snuck in, right?”
Wednesday didn’t say anything.
Why was she not saying anything?
“Wednesday,” you said. Your tone sounded harsh; you didn’t mean to. “Did she accuse me?”
She didn’t answer, and it finally clicked what the look on her face was.
It was fear.
#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams imagine#wednesday imagine#jenna ortega x reader#everyone but her au
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addiction
pairing: nagi seishiro x reader
warnings: none
wc: 588
synopsis: in which you learn how to play nagi's favorite game <3
notes: me n my crippling valorant addiction <3 not proofread
"teach me how to play."
"play?"
nagi seishiro was always on his damn game. well, he played multiple games but that's not the point. it was always soccer practice, go home, play, eat, then sleep. and while he did occasionally kiss you, you wanted more than kisses to sustain your relationship.
you wanted to spend time with nagi.
and if you can't do that because he's on the game, you figured maybe you should learn how to play. that way you can spend time with him while he's doing something he loves, and heck who knows? you might end up loving it, too.
"play soccer?" he asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
"no i wanna learn whatever you're playing on your computer."
"pc games?"
you could practically see the question marks surrounding his head. you held your ground, staring straight into his eyes.
"..okay then, c'mere."
he patted his lap, gesturing for you to come and sit. once you did, he took your hands into his and fitted them over his mouse and keyboard, moving your fingers so they wouldn't accidentally press the wrong keys.
"you're mainly going to be using w, a, s, d and the space bar—"
he explained the controls to you. you felt tension get to your head as you struggled to remember everything. you almost regret asking him to teach you. once he finished, you saw him ponder over something, before his lips curled up in a mischievous grin.
"i'm gonna queue a game for you now."
you exhaled, "okay."
"it's a game with real people. you have four teammates and five against you."
"okay— REAL PEOPLE? WHAT IF I RUIN THEIR GAME? WHAT IF I—"
a loud boom came resounded from the headset he put on you, and the words match found echoed mockingly in your head.
"looks like it's too late now." nagi teased.
"i'm scared."
you told him as you stared at the screen in fear. he's only taught you the controls, but he hasn't said anything about how the game works.
"i'm here, don't worry. first you gotta choose your character, okay?"
you nodded. you dragged the cursor across the screen to hover over each icon to display the characters. finally, you settled on a white haired girl who floated a dagger in her hand. while all the other characters seemed appealing, this girl— jett the screen says— looked the most like nagi. she had the exact same unbothered look on her face.
"why her?" he asked, accusingly.
you're sure he knows you well enough to know why.
"no reason!"
he chuckled before kissing you on the cheek.
"okay so her abilities are—"
as the game progressed, you're certain it was meant to be a horror game. now you knew why nagi would sometimes jump when you tap him on the shoulder while he was playing. your face twisted in probably your ugliest concentration face. you'd completely zone out during rounds, failing to see the look of adoration on your boyfriend's face.
you felt as if the game finished too fast, even though you played for an hour.
"queue me one more." you deadpanned.
the smile on his face was almost infectious.
"you're already addicted, hm?" he teased you. one of his arms wrapped around your waist while the other grabbed his mouse to queue you another game.
"i am not!"
a week later, he buys all the things you need for your own pc. he figured you needed your own since you were hogging his 24/7 to play.
#blue lock#bllk x you#bllk nagi#blue lock nagi#nagi fluff#nagi seishiro#nagi x reader#nagi x you#nagi seishiro x reader#blue lock x reader
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Hii! First time here, but I binged your works and just wanted to say that your writings are amazing! Keep up the good work and never lose your spark🫶🏾
(P.S.-Any more ideas on sassy omega Price? I’m usually not into those kinds of things but you got me hooked.)
for the sheer kindness of this ask, I have more Omega Price. not so much in the story format and more in little tidbits because my cat just sliced open my fingertip with her claws and it's hard to type
If you like the Nik/Price/Ghost idea, personally, I am a big fan specifically in the omegaverse.
Nik is the main alpha that John goes to for everything, he deals with the bitchiness, the everything. As far as anyone's concerned, that's John's alpha. Not that it hurts Simon in any way. He likes being a part of what they've got, but they're easing him into it slowly because thrusting this entire dynamic on him at once would do more harm than good.
Doesn't stop him from snitching to Nik whenever John gets a bit, too pissy, though.
And if Nik's away and he has to deal with it himself? When has Simon Riley ever been anything but capable. He'll drag that pissy captain back to his room and scent him until John is a reluctant puddle of content against his chest and Simon makes no effort to hide that he's smug as fuck.
Price is sassy anyway, there's three games worth of content to prove that, but there's a fine line between banter and him being genuinely pissed off. All of the lads have learned the difference, and a big part of it comes from John's need to throw himself into the job with all he's got. All of them do it, but he takes it to the extreme, stuck in the office filling out paperwork and planning missions without ever asking for help because it's a barrier for him. He can't push himself past it and ask for assistance because he's so stuck in this captain persona that it draws him away from the people around him, his pack.
And that lack of interaction and closeness translates into an anger that he can't quite wrap his head around and it's only sated by being surrounded by his people.
He pushes his limits around Laswell all of once, snapping at her for something that obviously isn't her fault when she's already stressed and for a split second he sees them sending his dogtags back to Nik with a "We're sorry for your loss." He learns not to do it again. It almost becomes a reminder for him, he finds himself getting irrationally irritated at something Laswell does, and he falters because he knows he's in too deep and he needs his people.
Laswell is absolutely pack too but she's scarier than the rest of them. She has no problem putting Pissy Price in his Place. It is a part-time job that she gets paid for via Nikolai sending her bottles of expensive whisky. She has no problem bringing in the reinforcements when he bites back at her with a bit too much force. Then suddenly, he's got two rambunctious sergeants and a not so pleased lieutenant all playing squish the omega.
Although when Price is being genuinely sassy because he wants something [it's to get bent over, it's always to get bent over], Nik and Simon clock him immediately. He'll stand with one hip popped, drawing far too much attention to how those wide fucking shoulders lead down to an unreasonably small waist and Nik has the urge to fuck him senseless in the back of the heli. Simon has visions them doing it on John's desk, but he isn't sure the old thing could take the sheer amount of force he'd put behind fucking Captain John Price six ways to Sunday.
#captain john price#cod nikolai#nikprice#simon ghost riley#kate laswell#ghostprice#priceghost#john price#nikpriceghost#sorry thid is a lot fo rambling#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
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to you, whats the biggest difference between abby and ellie? in a relationship and during sex
OOOOH i think this is a really good question!! bear with me bc this is kind of a long post, and i hope it makes sense? i hope you guys can understand what i'm trying to say lol. also, post is below the cut bc it is pretty long and there are some nsfw elements (nothing crazy but it is there). anyways, enjoy!
in relationships:
hear me out! i think the biggest difference between the two is the fact that ellie is an introvert while abby is an extrovert. i think it really influences the two and how they show their love.
abby is a huge extrovert. when she walks around the WLF base, everyone knows her, they stop to talk to her, and they feel an equal amount of respect and fear towards her. her presence is just so commanding, just so attention grabbing, because she just has that charisma about her, you know? in a modern!au, she’s probably extremely popular as well. her father’s a rich surgeon, she’s a talented athlete, a good student, and she just moves with this assuredness that guides everything she does. you’d think with all these things she’d be the biggest asshole ever, but she’s not. she’s far from it. she’s sweet, and a dork who likes to tell stupid little jokes. in general, though, she’s loud and proud about everything she does and cares about, and that includes you. she takes you out on dates everywhere, spoils you like crazy, wants to take care of you. abby would buy you whatever you want, whether it's paying for dinner, buying you a clothing item you've been eyeing, beautiful jewelry, new supplies for your hobbies, she'll gladly buy it for you. abby is an open book, and carries herself with a strong “what you see is what you get” kind of attitude. she doesn’t need to be coaxed out of her shell because she’ll gladly interact with any and everyone, and that’s where she and ellie start to differ.
now that’s not to say ellie doesn’t want to show you off or spoil you—because she does—it just looks a little different for her. she’s quiet and reserved at first glance, sticks to herself and her friends, maybe a little too closed off, but once you start talking to her, it’s like unraveling a mystery. there’s so much to learn about her, so many sides of herself she doesn’t show people. she has so many interests, and she’s so smart, too. you get wrapped up in her and her mind easily, so entranced by this quiet girl and finding out who she really is. you think she’s got a beautiful brain and personality, and it matches that pretty face of hers. she shows you off to her friends and family, and spoils you, of course, but with personable gifts that hold meaning to you, and there’s just a sort of quiet intimacy about how she shows her affection. modern!au abby would be obnoxious with PDA, kissing you, holding your hand, arm around you, just very obvious about it. she’s making a loud declaration that you’re hers, but ellie’s is more of a quiet/subtle dominance. the arm ellie has around your waist? the way her hand against the small of your back guides you? the fingers she has interlaced with yours? she doesn’t need to be loud to let other people know you’re hers, because they can just tell by the way she touches you, by the way she glares at anyone who stares at you a little too long.
now this is not to say there is no quiet intimacy with abby—because there is—it’s just a little different. for ellie, intimacy is those little moments kept close and shared only between the two of you. as an introvert, her love is grounded in quiet intimacy. the little drawings she makes you, the songs/poems she writes about you, showing you a new song she’s learned on guitar. she’s a huge homebody who likes to stay in and do things like parallel play, reading comics together, playing video games, movie marathons, things like that. she just loves quality time as a love language! on the contrary, abby loves to take you out and go on fun dates together out in public to show you off.
in addition to at home dates, ellie loves to bring you around her family (her adoptive dad and her older sister, sarah) because she’s just so proud to be yours and have you as hers. she loves bringing you to family get togethers because she's excited for her family to meet you and make you apart of the family, too. that's not to say abby wouldn't do the same, because she would, and she knows for a fact that dr. jerry anderson is going to LOVE you, it's just that for ellie she doesn't let people get close enough to her to meet her family in the first place. for ellie, love is being able to share the parts of herself she doesn’t normally let others see.
for abby, intimacy is in the little things. there is no need to peel back her layers to get to who she really is, because she’s forward about who she is and what she’s about to everyone. but what makes abby different with you is the subtle meanings behind the things she does. with a father who’s a doctor, she’s always been a huge germaphobe, so she doesn’t share her food or her drinks with just anybody. she also doesn’t just let anybody sit in the front seat of her car, she’s not quick to answer just everybody’s texts or phone calls, and in canonverse she’s sure as hell not nice to everybody. but with you, you just pull out that softness in her, and every action of hers just has a little something to it, a special meaning added to them, that can’t be applied to anyone else. and those private moments between the two of you? that’s when it becomes clear there’s something different in how she treats you, from her stolen glances to her gentle touches, all of it. abby’s main love language is acts of service, and it becomes clear that despite her loudness, her honesty, her openness, her love is really shown through the quiet, the unsaid, and the small things. sure, she shows she loves you to both you and others through actions that have loud declarations, but the ones that hold the most weight are the small ones only you are allowed to see and experience because they are special just for you.
when it comes to sex:
while i think both women are extremely sexy, i think there’s a huge difference with how the two women approach sex and express their sexuality, so walk with me here. like i said, both women are sexy, but while ellie just exudes pure raw sex appeal, just an intense sexiness, abby is sensual. ellie is magnetizing, and her charisma pulls you in and makes you do all the work of seduction. she prods you, teases you, flirts with you, but allows you to take the jump. she wants you to decide to kiss her, to put your hands on her, and wants you to initiate to see that you really want her as much as she wants you. that’s just part of her charm. abby, however, with her sensuality, is captivating, and while you are drawn into her because of it, it’s an equal push and pull between the two of you. her sensuality allows her to initiate, but it also allows her to be seduced by you as well. she openly flirts with you, tells you what she wants with you, but she wants you to do the same thing in return. she wants to feel your sexual chemistry, and she loves to create sexual tension. so while abby is not afraid to initiate if she has to, she wants you to have the bravery to do it, too. ellie, however, wants you to initiate the first move the very first time because she’s too scared to, and because she wants to be sure that she’s not imagining the way you look at her, the way you get shy around her, the flirtatious things you say to her. she couldn’t bear the rejection or finding out she misread your intentions, which is why she leaves it to you. however, after that first time, ellie’s not afraid to initiate anymore, and her boldness compared to her previous shyness surprises you every time. she becomes a different person, emboldened and confident, because she knows you want her, too. during sex, ellie carries herself in a way that is so calculated and confident, while abby is so languid, a total romantic to her core.
#ellie williams#abby anderson#ellie williams headcanons#abby anderson headcanons#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#tlou x reader
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listen, i'm throwing this request in here because we frankly don't get enough of this in the x reader tag, character x injured/sick!reader. it doesn't even have to be anything super angsty if you don't want it to be. like i just want the fluff of an overwatch character fretting over reader with a sprained ankle lmao
(any characters are okay tbh, write for whoever you have ideas for!)
Hello anon!! i hope this works for you! i had a lot of fun writing this and i might make more later on. >:3
please give me more OW requests. mm brain rot <3
TBH i don’t really like genjis one i might rewrite it later on so keep an eye out for a post
D.Va, Genji, Ramattra X GN!Hurt/Sick!Reader
Not beta read
cw- injury, pain,
Hana “D.Va” Song
gaming with your girlfriend was almost mandatory as you started your relationship
you were fine with that, in fact you were happy to join in her streams and hang out with D.Va and finish to get some quiet time with Hana.
But. you two played different types of games.
You loved character driven story games, open worlds and side quests
and she was a world champion, mmorpgs, real time strategy games, fast paced games you never really tried
But she asked one day if you wanted to play LOL with her on stream you said yes of course
but wow was it a learning curve, and a new thing you had to adapt to. fast paced clicking and key mashing hurt your fingers and wrists.
you have no idea how Hana doesn’t have wrist problems worse then she does if you just played for a few days and your pointer finger felt stuck and pain would throb in your forearms.
Hana ended stream that night and took a breath to regain her self. You were chilling in the same room as her, her set up more impressive than yours as you turned off your own PC and turned your chair to face her.
Getting up from your semi uncomfortable office chair you walked over to her as she stretched, you went to grab her water bottle to refill it for her but as soon as your hand grabbed the bottle pain shot through your forearm and wrist making you involuntarily wince.
Her eyes shot to you in worry before she completely understood what happened, “Aww I hope i didn’t push you too hard that last round.”
You chuckled and shook out your arms, it really didn’t do much. “It’s hard to keep up with you in these games Ms Professional ESports World Champion.”
It was her turn to laugh, “Get good.” She got up and grabbed the bottle herself and shut down her PC. “You good though? Got Gamers wrist?”
“Up my forearms and everything, clicking finger is sore too.” You flex your fingers trying to get the stiff feeling out.
“Didn’t you used to play a religious amount of Cookie Clicker back in the day, without auto clicker?” She points out as you follow her out of y’all’s gaming room and to the kitchen.
You have a scoff, “My child self didn’t know what that was, i was rich on cookies. And it didn’t hurt all this bad.” You rested against the island.
She paused by the fridge, filling her bottle up with the water. “I have some extra wrist braces if you’d like, they work wonders.”
“Please.” Your response came instantly before you could even process the last part of her sentence. It made her snort with how desperate you sounded and she almost overflowed her bottle.
“Come here, give me your arms.” She turned around and leaned against the other side of the island in front of you.
You did and held out your forearms to her with a confused look.
She wrapped her hands around for forearms and began to squeeze them, massaging them firmly, perfectly in the place where it hurt the most. A whine left your throat at the feeling of sore pain meeting soft comforting pain. Her fingers dug into the meat gently as she circled the muscle, slowly making her way down to your wrists where she provided the same treatment. Your head rested on the island counter as you slumped over, heaven was in her hands.
“Thank you Hana.”
“You’re welcome bunny.”
——————————————————————
Genji Shimada
sleep deprivation sucked.
2-3 hours a night was all you were going off of. it wasn’t enough to keep your brain healthy or your body.
constant headaches, unfocused eyes, micro sleep, confusion, it all was ass
but there was nothing you could do in the moment to fix it, you just kept staying awake at night to either game or finish work projects and paperwork.
sickness sometimes finds you when you’re like this, nauseous from lack of sleep, headaches making your eyes hurt.
you tried your best to fight back the sleep that demanded itself, but failed.
Genji was silent in his approach to your desk, you knew he was there, you could sense him.
Your laptop was too bright, your eyes were unfocused and you could barely feel yourself slowly lean forward to the desks surface. A hand on your shoulder wakes you up enough to realize you were holding down a single key on your keyboard and the open document on your screen now had a long line of Vs.
“Hiya Genji.” you slur almost, as you closed your eyes only for the entire world to pulse around you, sounds were too sharp and too dull at the same time, breathing in and out seemed to take all your strength, but your strength was elsewhere trying to fight off sleep.
“You don’t look too good.” He stated flatly, his helmet off as he rested in comfortable clothing.
You glance up to see him, eyes focusing on his face, “Thanks.” was all you had the energy to respond with.
He looked at your laptop, reading what you were writing but telling by his confused and concerned face you think you just wrote gibberish that your brain thought sounded like a normal sentence.
“How long have you been awake?” His voice dripping with concern but his voice buzzed in your ears and bounced around your head for a second before you could process what he said.
“I’ve had 5 hours of sleep this week.” You yawn and look away from his wide eyed expression.
It was Saturday. 11pm.
Your body didn’t have enough energy to even move it felt like.
“Okay,” he dragged out the word and closed your laptop. “Let’s get you to bed yea?” The way he said it made you know there was no changing his mind.
You didn’t want to admit you needed sleep but at the same time your head was throbbing and the thought of cuddling with your Genji was enough to perk you up more.
You mumbled out an okay before trying to stand on wobbly knees, your body feeling light yet heavy at the same time. A flesh hand came to steady you and hold you before you heard a sigh and suddenly you were swept off your feet and being carried to the bedroom.
“You need to take better care of yourself.” Concern laced his words as he placed you on the bed carefully.
“I know I know,” you made a grabby hand motion at him and he smiles, soon making his way to the bed as well, cuddling up beside you. You used his still flesh side as a pillow as he laid on his back. “I’m sorry Genji.”
He ran fingers along your scalp, scratching softly, putting you in a trance. “I know you don’t do field work anymore but you still need to rest.”
“I will, I will.” Was all you could mumble out before almost instantly falling asleep. the last thing you felt was his lips against your forehead.
The next morning Genji barley let you leave the bedroom after you slept for nearly 14 hours. He made you food and sat and ate with you in the bed while the two of you watched Cowboy Bebop. Your work could wait till monday, you just wanted to enjoy the last day of the weekend resting with him.
—————————————————————
Ramattra
you were out for a walk with Ramattra
the spring air buzzed with life as you two passed by trees, bird song filling silence, bees resting on flowers as they bumbled their fat little bodies around
it was a nice walk, one to clear your mind and his systems, just to think and be together
you didn’t see a tree root and you fell and ate dirt, twisting your ankle
“oh ow ow ow ow ow.” you let out a string of curses from behind clenched teeth.
Your ankle throbbed, it felt warm and tingly at the same time, pain shooting through your foot and up your shin. You do what your dumb brain tells you to and you roll it to make sure it’s not broken, thankfully it isn’t but the pain takes the air from your lungs with a sharp gasp.
Ramattra stared down at you on the ground, unmoving as he studied you. He watched as you tried to get back up with only the use of one leg, holding onto a tree for support as you stood with your leg raised like a dog that’s paw got stepped on.
“Fragile things you humans are. You tripped and now you can’t stand?” His voice wasn’t as harsh as it once was many moons ago, but he still said it with some form of exasperation.
You set your foot on the ground, testing it and instantly regretting it as pain erupts again.
You ignore his comment, “Oh gods I don’t know if i can walk back.”
“Weakling.” He said but held out his arm for you to take. There was no malice in his vocal synthesizers.
You did, leaning against him. Thanking him as you both turned around and took a step to head back to base. As you tried to put weight on your ankle you winced and let out a hiss.
“I really fucked myself up good.” You laugh a little as you stare down at your feet.
“Do you need me to carry you?” His voice buzzed with slight concern, you wouldn’t have noticed it unless you had spent enough time with the Omnic, and you have.
You look up at him with a smirk, a look that pokes him, “You goin soft on me Ram?”
He tenses a tiny tiny bit more than he already was, “No!” He said a bit too quickly. “It would take us ages to get back with your condition and I am not going to wait on you. It would be faster for me to carry you there. Simple.”
You ponder for a second, before nodding your head. Why would you ever give up the opportunity to be carried by this giant?
Ramattra let’s out a fake sigh and grabs you by the midsection, lifting you up and placing your butt on his right shoulder. You were expecting to be carried in his arms but sitting on his shoulder was way more fun already. You felt like a bird resting on his broad shoulders.
“Thanks, you big softie.” You pat his head to make your point.
He moves his right arm to hold your hips, keeping you stable and you use his arm as a grip. “I’m not doing this for you.” He grumbled but the way he made sure you weren’t going to fall off said otherwise.
He waited for you to give the word and he started to make his way back, you on his shoulder and enjoying being really tall.
#tezi post#ask!#overwatch x reader#overwatch#overwatch imagine#dva#hana song#ramattra#genji#genji shimada#dva overwatch#overwatch 2#genji shimada overwatch#genji overwatch#ramattra overwatch#genji x reader#genji shimada x reader#ramattra x reader#dva x reader#hana song x reader
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invisible string [8] : ellie williams
part seven
| college!ellie x female!reader - welcome to the final part of invisible string! i am so sad to be ending this short series, but extremely excited for you all to read it!! i really hope you'll like it... a lot of time was spent getting it right (: thank you guys for being so patient with me! also- thank you to all of my readers <3 special shout out to those of you who have been following this story since the first part was posted. your kindness and encouragement has meant everything to me <3 ilysm
| c/w - anxiety, swearing
it was jarring, the transition from speaking to not.
your friendship with ellie started all at once and fizzled out even quicker, no lasting proof besides the sticky notes that remained on your wall.
it felt silly, looking at them everyday. you wondered if it was inappropriate, keeping them around and on display. truthfully, you still had a little bit of hope left. if you took them down, that would certainly be the end.
she was only a part of your life for a short time, but the week had felt empty without ellie.
ellie hadn't made a move, so you didn't either.
the time apart made it easier to think though, easier to differentiate your thoughts without ellie clouding your senses.
normal friendships shouldn't feel so dramatic. they shouldn't have so many lingering stares, ghosting touches, and unsaid words. at least, you didn't think so. you hadn't experienced a friendship like that before. desperate to say it all yet too scared to say anything at all, you simultaneously wanted to tell ellie everything yet keep yourself a secret, a closed off book forever.
normal friendships shouldn't require that much thought.
the idea nagged at you continuously and you had no choice but to allow it. it was december, finals were wrapping up and the promise of winter break was no longer just around the corner, it was here.
things were always a little awkward, even when they were good. tension.
things hadn't felt weird in a bad way until the mention of jesse and dina. any color had promptly drained from ellie's face, and she was too quick to get away. you were confident that you hadn't misspoke. surely it was something on ellie's end, but it bothered you nonetheless. you had to have been apart of it.
thinking about ellie made you feel selfish, because it almost felt vain to weigh the ways in which she could potentially care about you. reading into stolen glances was a pastime that possibly could've been increasing your vanity. you didn't typically have such thoughts such as oh, i look pretty today, that must be why she keeps looking at me.
you missed looking at ellie. how pathetic but true, it had only been a few days but surely your journal was tired of hearing about it.
you quickly learned that ellie seemed a little impulsive, driven by her stubbornness. well, two can play at that game. you wouldn't even text her.
you half hoped that your absence would make her grow more fond at the idea of you, though maybe you had only pushed her away further. no texts, no anything.
sure, it was finals week. but still.
half of your clothes were packed away, piles around your room that you would swear was an organized method. studying didn't really do you any good, your last final was here and you were drained. you felt like an idiot for being more concerned about ellie, but you had done fine in the class all semester anyway.
snow was finally starting to pile on the ground. you would appreciate the beauty more after your final was finished, when it didn't matter if your hair grew wet from the melting flakes.
campus was quiet and relatively empty as you hurried to the building in which your final would take place. you liked being early, and refused to push the time limit for an exam. maybe the thought of seeing ellie again made your feet move a little quicker, but you focused on rehearsing the study guide in your head during your walk.
your heart pounded with every step. despite actually enjoying the class, you never felt relaxed at the idea of an exam. you had been so focused on ellie, it didn't really sink in that you would be sitting still in a silent room, clock ticking quietly as you would try your best to answer each question. what if you couldn't even focus?
it was too late to worry, and too early to resign yourself yet.
you made it in time, twenty minutes early, your specialty, but quite a few people already occupied the classroom. it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, though. people usually arrived early for finals. the satisfied smile slipped off of your lips however when you noticed that ellie wasn't around.
your heart dropped.
did she opt to take the exam early? what if you had already saw her for the last time, and you had no idea?
you sunk into your seat, wanting to text ellie but you were starting to forget the wording of a definition that you were trying to memorize last minute. sparing a quick glance at your phone, you decided to pull out your study guide instead for a last review.
how the fuck were you supposed to focus?
it was technically still early, but you pulse quickened everytime someone that wasn't ellie walked into the room.
what if ellie wasn't coming? even if things were weird, you guys had become friends. it would be fucked up just to never say bye, right? unless she wasn't as emotionally invested in the situation as you were... which, let's be honest...
the door was heaved open once again and you tried not to look disappointed when in walked a guy from your class. you refocused your gaze on your study notes when suddenly a muttered "thank you" pulled you out of your thoughts.
the guy was holding the door open for someone, but you didn't need to look to know who it was.
in walked ellie, shoulders straight and eyes set. you opened your mouth, ready to say something, but she walked right past you and towards the desk that she previously sat in, before you became friends.
your eyebrows furrowed and it felt like the final nail.
but she hesitated.
ellie hesitated before backpedaling and sat down in the empty spot next to you. the act alone practically gave you an ego.
she didn't glance at you even once, and somehow that felt even more obvious than if she would've looked at you. despite the circumstance you felt giddy, determined to redeem yourself for a mistake that you didn't even make.
you eyed ellie. she was trying so hard not to glance in your direction, it was cute. you had to try. you'd regret it if you didn't. you mentally debated which was worse, regret or embarrassment.
"so," you began, wanting to sound confident instead of squeaky with nerves. "on a scale of one to ten, how fucked do you think you are for the final?"
ellie's eyes widened and you tried, you really did, not to break out into a grin.
you continued. "i think i'm standing at a solid..." you pretended to think, drawing your eyebrows together as you looked to the ceiling, but you already knew what you were going to say. "...six?"
ellie snorted. "do you just memorize everything that i say?" she quipped, finally turning toward you.
your smile was sly once you looked away from her. "i don't know what you're talking about?"
ellie rolled her eyes, but you were finally speaking again and it was so good. a little late maybe, but good.
"don't copy me," ellie said, her words clipped. you knew she was joking. "anyway, you're gonna do better than a six. you organize your notes like a crazy person."
you frowned at the teasing statement but your heart skipped a beat anyway. ellie couldn't seem to meet your eyes and it made you feel greedy, desperate to get to the bottom of things.
"how have you been?" you asked, casually enough.
ellie looked at you as though you had posed a trick question.
"it's finals week," she replied flatly, but there was something else there.
you nodded. "right, but..." you quietly trailed off. there was no point in starting a big conversation with the exam merely minutes away.
ellie seemed visibly uncomfortable.
"the last time we talked, i..." ellie began to speak without knowing where she was going to end her sentence. you really needed to memorize that definition from earlier.
you flung open your notes. "it's fine," you dismissed. it wasn't really, but maybe you didn't want to do this now.
ellie winced. "it's not," she disagreed.
last week she had practically left you in the dust. now she wants to get confrontational?
"ellie," you frowned. "do you want to look through my notes? i have the ones from the section that i helped you with, that day in the library?" you looked up curiously, hand hovering over the pages incase she accepted.
ellie laughed, short and breathy. "i'm okay."
her tone was polite and light, a drastic change from how awkward she was just being. you carried on, quickly scanning paragraphs. cramming was never helpful, but you couldn't help yourself.
"i didn't really need your notes," ellie mumbled, looking away from you and at her hands instead.
you barely caught on to the uttered confession. "hm?"
her words took a second to register in your brain, to which you finally pulled your gaze away from your notes.
"are you declining my help in a passive aggressive way, or do you have something to say?" you asked quickly, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could think it over. the classrooms were always too hot this time of year. your hands felt too dry and the feeling of them against paper was driving you crazy.
"what? no," ellie quickly corrected, shifting nervously in her seat.
you leaned over to unzip your bag that was on the floor, leaning against your chair. "i was just asking," you mumbled, pulling a small bottle of lotion from it's secure place in your bag.
ellie watched carefully as you applied a small amount to your hands. the sweet, floral notes reached her nose and she craned her neck in an attempt to read the scent name on the decorated tube.
"ellie?" you pressed, zipping your bag shut once again when you were finished with the lotion. ellie's sentence was unfinished, and you were running on little to no patience.
"i'm sorry," she breathed out. it wasn't what you were expecting and you blinked in surprise.
you would've clung to her every word, but you'd rather it be saved until your finals were over. you couldn't tell if it was a good i'm sorry or a bad one, and the result might genuinely impact your grade. it had to be discussed, you couldn't live with it being left alone. you debated biting the bullet and just asking if she wanted to hang out, but the idea of rejection made you hot in the face.
there it was again, regret or embarrassment.
if she said no, the embarrassment would most likely creep over you every night when you tried to sleep, but at least you wouldn't have to face her again. last chance.
you came out of your thought by noticing the dejected look on ellie's face. right, she said sorry.
"ellie," you tried again. "are you busy after this... or, or tonight?" you tried not to make it sound weighted, but you didn't think that you succeeded.
something of a surprised smile registered on ellie's face that she tried to suppress.
"after this?" ellie questioned, her words rushed. there wasn't much time to converse anymore. the final exam was looming.
you nodded. ellie blinked. "yes. sure," she responded, a little dazed.
satisfaction bloomed within you. it wasn't over yet.
thank god, you didn't have to work your way through this exam battling tears of rejection and heartache.
you wanted to say more, but the time that you had been prepping for weeks was finally upon you. you were stupidly emotional about the class ending. this class brought you ellie. this final was the reason for your budding friendship with ellie. you didn't want whatever this was with ellie to end with the class. you would finish the exam, and then you would talk.
"hey," ellie muttered, getting your attention quickly before the exams were handed out. "good luck," she said warmly.
you didn't bother hiding your smile. "good luck," you replied sincerely. you spared ellie one more quick glance before tuning in to focus.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
ellie left the exam before you did. she had finished first, only by a few minutes, but your heart raced. you were nearly done, just checking over answers when ellie had stood up, turned in her final, and left. she looked back at you before she had walked out of the doors. you had made eye contact. and then she was gone.
you skimmed all of the pages, making sure you had answered every question. your stomach hurt. did she leave? did she just leave?!
granted, of course, you could text her later. hopefully she would respond. but it was hard to make sense of any rational thoughts after the image of her leaving.
you did your best. you even felt fairly confident. you blindly gathered your things and turned in your exam, wishing your professor a final farewell and a happy winter break.
you pulled your phone out of your pocket upon exiting the classroom, hoping to see a text from ellie. instead, you simply saw ellie.
"oh," you said audibly.
ellie's head snapped up as soon as you appeared in the hallway. she was sitting on a bench outside of the classroom. she was waiting.
"how'd it go?" she asked hopefully.
you breathed a sigh of relief that turned into a laugh. she waited for you. the weight of the exam had been lifted off of your shoulders. now the only thing left that was bringing you down was where you stood with ellie.
"it's over," you mused, relieved that for a little while, there would be no assignments or tests to leave you in a tizzy. "what about you?"
ellie smiled in response, but her expression was lacking happiness. "we're free."
you nodded slowly, wanting to get on with it but at the same time feeling perfectly content with the small talk.
"so," you started, but the classroom door flung open causing you to flinch. another student completed the exam, exiting into the hallway. you stepped aside, drawing closer to ellie. "wanna get out of here?"
"do you have the time?" ellie questioned, looking at you almost accusingly.
your eyes narrowed. "yes," you emphasized. "that was my last exam. I am officially on winter break. also... you were the one that disappeared the last time we talked."
ellie paled, focusing her gaze on her converse. "yeah. about that..."
a small group of people came down the hallway. ellie stood up and gave you a look. "let's get out of here," she affirmed.
you trailed behind her, wringing your hands. what exactly were you even supposed to say? was this supposed to be some sort of all or nothing situation, because you really weren't very good at those...
once ellie noticed that you weren't at her side, she halted. "are... you okay?" she asked, looking unsure.
you nodded, eyes wide. you could see out of the doors, snow was falling once again. it was really starting to stick to the ground, too. the sight made your heart swell. "'it's snowing," you mumbled, awkwardly gesturing with your hand.
ellie let out a dry chuckle. "yeah, it is," she remarked, a soft smile painting itself on her lips. "wanna go to my dorm?"
you nodded once more, absentmindedly. ellie held the door open and you stepped outside, mentally welcoming the snow.
the walk was quiet. awkward. neither of you bothered with anymore small talk. it felt weird, saving the conversation until you arrived in ellie's dorm. you were anxious to see if she still had your doodles on her wall.
you made it in record time, motivated by the cold and slippery sidewalk. ellie laughed at you once you entered the building, stomping your shoes to rid them of any snow.
"you have snowflakes. in your eyelashes," ellie murmured, placing a careful hand under your chin to direct your gaze so she could examine them.
you stilled and held your breath, the feeling of her touch warming your body so much that you felt desperate to shed your coat.
"they'll melt," you whispered with an uneasy laugh.
ellie caught herself and removed her touch. your stomach flipped.
"i thought one time you said something about not liking when they melted on your eyelashes. something about your mascara running?" ellie teased, leading the way to her room.
"yeah, so i buy waterproof," you explained as if it were obvious.
ellie clicked her tongue and unlocked her door. "right. silly me," she breathed, stepping aside to let you into her room first. every action like that brought you butterflies.
you tried not to make it obvious, but you immediately looked for the notes on her wall. once your eyes landed on them, you breathed a sigh of relief. they were still there. suddenly you didn't feel so weird about keeping them on your wall either.
the room smelled like ellie. you wanted to soak it in.
ellie took off her coat, placed her bag on the floor and then dropped her coat on top of it. you followed suit, tucking your bag into a corner and shrugging off your coat. you were going to put it on the floor too, but ellie grabbed it from your hand and hung it on the back of a chair.
your cheeks warmed and you looked away.
"i feel like we should be studying or something," you tried with a small laugh.
"or something," ellie mused.
she sat on her bed, legs hanging over the side. you stood in front of ellie, avoiding eye contact.
"can i get you anything?" ellie awkwardly offered after a moment. "i don't have much left but i can offer you the water that's left in my bottle."
you rolled your eyes despite the corners of your lips, which quirked upwards. "charming. i'll pass, thank you."
"suit yourself," ellie sighed.
you were both trying way too hard to sound nonchalant. you hated it.
you stood awkwardly, not sure what to do with your hands. after a moment of hesitation, you finally made the plunge.
"ellie, did i like... say something? or do... something?"
you were scared of her answer, scared that maybe you really had been embarrassing yourself all along and now you wouldn't hear the end of it.
she looked resigned. you could tell that she was debating something, the way her eyes flicked away from your face and her eyebrows drew together.
"you didn't do anything," ellie confirmed. you could tell that she was physically working up to something. "i thought maybe... dina and jesse? i thought they might've said something stupid," she uttered.
you tilted your head in confusion, but your heart beat sped up. your mind flashed back to that moment, someone that ellie likes.
"they didn't," you reassured.
"yeaah, that's what they said too. i guess i just kinda... freaked." ellie replied, scratching the back of her neck.
"they were really nice," you offered awkwardly. "i didn't mean to make you feel weird or anything."
you even tried to avoid it, but you didn't have to explain that now. it's not like you would have actually hung out with dina and jesse... no offense to them of course, but you didn't know them so the idea made you feel extremely uncomfortable.
"you didn't," ellie pressed, adamant about not making you feel bad. "i thought that maybe i did."
you scrunched up your nose. "is that why you said the thing about freaking me out? because you really didn't."
ellie nodded. "i just thought they said something dumb. or something they shouldn't have said," she reiterated. ellie kicked off her converse.
your eyes widened, immediately thinking the worst. surely ellie was not the type of person to be nice to your face and then talk poorly about you to her friends? you honestly felt that if she didn't like you, you obviously wouldn't be standing in her room. still, the nagging thought persisted.
"something like what?" you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you intended.
"nothing bad, i just- dude, i feel like i'm on trial when you're just standing there like that."
your cheeks heated in embarrassment. "sorry," you mumbled, taking off your shoes and carefully tucking them next to your bag. you sat on the edge of her bed, and ellie turned to face you.
ellie's eyes scanned your features once you sighed.
"this is so dumb," you muttered. to your surprise, ellie laughed in relief.
"i was being weird. and i shouldn't have been," ellie clarified. "i'm sorry i made you feel bad."
the sincerity made you feel awkward. "it's okay. we're good?"
"we're good," ellie confirmed.
you blinked, forcing a smile onto your face. you were ready for this part to be over but there was still so much to be said.
you tore your eyes away from ellie, studying the solar system poster above her bed. "i still haven't seen the planetarium," you uttered wistfully.
ellie tilted her head, staring at you while you were unaware. "i'll take you," she said automatically, the words leaving her before she was able to doubt herself.
a ghost of a smile flickered on your lips.
"i think i've only been to a planetarium a couple times, as a kid," you said, eyes glancing over the starry map.
ellie smiled, quickly glancing from your lips to your eyes.
"for my sixteenth birthday, joel took me to this awesome museum," ellie began. her tone was wistful yet determined, voice laced with her best storytelling inflections.
you turned to face her again. ellie's eyes lit up while she spoke.
"it was a science and history museum," ellie explained. you smiled at her easy enthusiasm. "-and it had this planetarium that was the coolest fucking thing i've ever seen."
the smile quickly left your lips once your mouth dropped open in realization. "oh! the pictures!" you scrambled off of ellie's bed, leaving her to look confused and mildly concerned.
"pictures?" she questioned, getting up to follow after you. you lead her to the wall that was covered in all of her drawings and photos. you could've sworn that you remembered them. you scanned her wall, looking for two pictures in particular as your face scrunched up in concentration.
"there!" you pointed excitedly. the two photos that you remembered, ellie in an astronaut helmet grinning wildly at the camera, and ellie and joel wearing hats, posed in front of a massive dinosaur display.
"are those from your birthday?" you asked, stomach twisting with your words. you hoped that you were right, or else it might be embarrassing. maybe it was embarrassing anyway, the fact that you had so vividly remembered those photos.
ellie chuckled. "yeah actually, they are."
ellie bumped your shoulder, causing you to grin at her decorated wall.
"i love how many pictures you have," you sighed. "i have such a cute camera, but i always forget to take pictures in the moment." you explained with a frown.
"bring it when we go to the planetarium," ellie suggested plainly, as if her entire sentence didn't completely cause your pulse to quicken.
when.
we.
"okay," you replied flatly, wondering if ellie could tell how uneven your breathing had gotten. fueled by blind courage, you stared at astronaut ellie when you spoke. "i'm leaving tomorrow, though. going home for break."
"we'll go after break," she clarified, looking at you.
you turned your head to meet her eyes, willing yourself not to flinch at how close your faces were. the green of her eyes were always enchanting, but this close?
you swallowed hard. "okay," you agreed.
and it was official. ellie wanted to keep seeing you after break. you had done the impossible college task, turn a class friend into a real friend.
friend. honestly, it was laughable.
"okay," ellie repeated in a whisper. her eyes bore into yours and you were frozen, wanting to pull away but your body stayed still, feet planted. she was so intense.
you forced your body to move, turning your head away from her and taking a step back. you heard ellie sigh as you moved.
"i was never trying to blow you off," you confessed suddenly, once your back was to ellie.
you obviously had caught her off guard by the way in which she hummed in surprise. admittedly, you had caught yourself off guard too, but it had been weighing on your conscience too much. you couldn't ignore the signs anymore, and as much as you would have loved to wait around for ellie to make the first move, she was too concerned about potentially freaking you out.
"remember when you asked me if i wanted to go to the dining hall with you? the first time," you clarified. "and i said that i was free the rest of the day." you busied yourself by straightening the green throw blanket on ellie's bed.
ellie nodded, even though your back was turned. "yeah?"
"and then i stopped hanging out with you after class."
"yeah."
"i... um, i lied," you confessed suddenly, whirling around to face her.
ellie's features were etched in confusion. "lied about what?" she pressed, her voice low.
all of your insecurities felt heightened by how intensely she was staring at you. you felt cowardly, explaining the next part.
"i lied about being free?" you mumbled, face hot.
ellie's eyebrows knitted together, as if to say go on...
"i have another class on those days, like, about an hour later. but... i lied and said i was done for the day because... i wanted to... hang out?"
you mentally lost your footing but got there eventually, holding your breath once you finished your sentence. the silence was daunting until ellie suddenly laughed.
"are you fucking kidding me?" she asked, eyes wide.
"n-no?"
ellie shook her head. "why didn't you just tell me that?" ellie laughed, clearly amused.
"because it's embarrassing?" you said, believing it to be obvious.
"well, yeah," ellie mused. you visibly deflated.
ellie managed to hold back her laughter as she took a small step towards you. "you could've told me," she reiterated more seriously.
"sure i could've," you mumbled, rolling your eyes. "i was too nervous. it felt so stupid."
"you skipped class to hang out with me?" ellie's eyes glinted with bemusement. you wished she would stop looking at you, you needed a break. you quite literally felt like you were burning up.
"so what?" you snapped in defense, and ellie's laughter escaped her. you frowned, crossing your arms.
"i just wish that i knew that before," ellie shrugged, taking another step towards you. you countered it by taking a small step backwards.
"yeah well..." you shrugged. "i'm sorry. it's weird."
ellie immediately shook her head. "it's not," she pressed. she went from joking to being serious so quickly. god she made your head spin.
"i just didn't wanna-" you were quickly cut off by ellie.
"freak me out?" she finished. your blank expression was enough of a confirmation.
"imagine how i felt," ellie pointed out. "i thought that maybe i... i don't know," she shrugged it off. it wasn't fair, you were totally embarrassed and she kept brushing things off. it was infuriating. she looked so cute in her hoodie.
"maybe you what?" you pressed once again. finish your sentences, ellie.
ellie took a deep breath. "maybe i scared you off."
you shook your head slowly. yeah, these conversations were not typical in normal friendships.
"you didn't," you said. your words were quiet but weighted. you prayed for ellie to catch onto the implication. please please please-
ellie took a step closer. you took a step back. your body knocked against ellie's bed and you straightened your knees.
"good," she said simply, not breaking eye contact.
"okay, enough about that," you laughed weakly. "why did you want to hang out with me in the first place?" you questioned, attempting to change your tone.
ellie's eyebrows raised. "seriously?" she asked flatly, unimpressed with your question.
whatever. this so wasn't fun.
"how would you recommend going about making friends?" ellie asked tauntingly.
"oh, you're putting me on the spot again. let's not do that anymore," you suggested. ellie laughed suddenly and rolled her eyes.
"my bad," she joked, throwing her hands in the air to resign. you smiled but the butterflies in your stomach made you feel sick.
you threw her an accusing look but she grinned, enjoying whatever this situation was. you almost felt jealous, wondering what it was that you could have possibly done that managed to boost her confidence.
"besides, you never answer any of my questions," you argued.
"well you just have so many," ellie mumbled and then frowned. "and yes i do," she defended. "i just answered your question about those pictures being from my birthday."
"ellie," you complained.
ellie mocked your tone, saying your name as a complaint.
you appeared unamused, willing the corners of your lips not to turn up.
ellie dropped the joke-y smile and genuinely appeared to be conflicted. you worried that you pressed too far, maybe things didn't need to come out right now, but you stayed silent anyway.
"fine," ellie finally said. "ask me."
"ask you what?" you quickly questioned.
"just ask me."
heart pounding, you remained still as ellie took another hesitant step towards you. you felt as though there were so many things that could go wrong. it was all dangling, right in front of you. one wrong move or one right move, you couldn't decide which it was, and everything would be out in the open. you were terrified, wanting to immediately backpedal but at the same time, you were starting to feel addicted to the adrenaline of being around ellie. you wanted to ask her so many questions but also, nothing at all.
at once it came to you, and the final exam that you had just taken felt like it had been days ago.
you wrinkled your nose. "what did you mean when you said you didn't really need my notes?"
the expression that registered on ellie's face made you feel as though you had asked the incorrect question.
"i just mean, you didn't say that you don't need my notes, you said that you didn't need my notes which doesn't make sense because-"
"i lied," ellie cut you off.
you gaped at her and ellie took another step, this one even more hesitant. you couldn't move away any further. you resigned and sat down on her bed.
"about what?" you asked, and your voice came out more quiet than you had intended. you felt like your heart was pounding in your ears.
"i didn't need your notes."
"i know, you said you didn't but-"
"no, i didn't need your notes," ellie tried again. "i never needed your notes."
she was treading lightly and you could tell. ellie tried meeting your eyes, but you stared down at your hands in your lap.
"you never needed my notes," you repeated softly.
ellie nodded once, encouraging your train of thought. she let it linger, only for a moment before clarifying. "in the library. the study group."
what?
"you never needed my notes?" your head snapped up, eyes wide as you finally met ellie's gaze. she slowly shook her head, trying to gage your reaction.
you felt humiliated, as if you had forced ellie to study with you even though that certainly wasn't the case at all. she had even encouraged it, initiated it even, but dread still filled a pit in your stomach.
"but you said that you were there for the study group!" you said, grasping for straws. ellie chuckled.
"yeah, i was. just not for the reason you thought."
you tilted your head to the side. "go on," you said, raising an eyebrow.
"i didn't need help. i wasn't there to get help. i was actually there to give help, but the person didn't show up," ellie explained.
you blinked once, slowly. you repeated her words in your mind. you let it sink in.
"oh my god," you muttered, partly in disbelief. "why did you let me help you?"
"becauuse," ellie carefully sat next to you. "i figured... if you thought that i needed help, you would stay."
her expression remained stoic despite the red blush that was creeping up onto her face. your stomach flipped.
"and i stayed," you uttered.
"you stayed," ellie confirmed. "mission accomplished," she offered weakly.
she wanted you to stay. she acted like she needed your notes so you would stay.
ellie was watching you carefully, but you didn't feel pressured to react. you wiped your palms on your pants.
"okay," you began calmly. "i hate study groups. i hate the awkward conversation, being around people that never actually speak to me. i never go to those things. the only reason that i went was because you asked me about it in class. and so i thought that i might see you there. and i wanted to see you," you added the last part, letting the words fall into the open.
"you're fucking with me," ellie immediately said.
"i'm not," you argued, defensive and buzzing.
ellie clicked her tongue in disbelief, eyeing you. shorter strands of hair always fell into her face. you wanted to swipe them away.
"jesus," ellie mused.
"is that why you wanted me to stay? you wanted to be friends?"
ellie winced at friends, and you inwardly cringed.
dear god.
"not friends," you quickly clarified. "well, friends, but..." your voice failed you, but maybe it was for the better. you wished you weren't wearing a sweater, too warm.
ellie said your name, quietly to get your attention. you met her eyes. her mouth slipped into a sly smile when she spoke.
"i sat next you because i thought that you were pretty," she uttered pointedly.
oh! like like like!
your mind and face went blank. "oh," you laughed after a second.
"oh?" ellie questioned, watching you carefully.
ellie leaned into you, elbows propped on her legs. you swallowed hard. you felt like you were watching yourself instead of actively experiencing what was happening. it was dreamlike.
"you're the only reason i haven't skipped class all semester," you blurted out. you grimaced, twisting it into a nervous smile. okay, sure, no time like the present.
ellie looked at you curiously, cocking her head to the side. "really?"
"really," you confirmed, running your fingers along the blanket on her bed.
"you definitely weren't obvious," ellie murmured, looking at you in amusement.
"i wasn't supposed to be, are you kidding? this is humiliating."
"is it?" ellie questioned, eyebrows raised in concern despite the smirk on her face.
"sort of? oh my god, i feel so dumb. i had the biggest-" you paused in hesitation, the word crush hadn't been used yet and you were reluctant to be the first.
like like like!
"i wanted to talk to you all semester," you corrected, still burning with embarrassment. "and when you sat next to me, well, i know that technically i sat next to you but that was my seat first so really all i was doing was sitting in my normal seat where i had sat every other day but then you decided to move seats so really-"
you rambles were cut off, surprisingly, pleasantly, by ellie leaning inwards and placing her hands on your shoulders. you were suddenly pulled towards her as ellie closed the gap between the two of you.
her lips, warm and a little chapped, met your own without a moment's notice. your eyes widened in surprise before you forced them shut, melting into ellie as she brought a careful hand to the side of your face. your heart pounded, butterflies exploded in your stomach and yet you tried not to think, only to enjoy it.
like!
the kiss lasted merely seconds before ellie pulled away, lifting her hands away from you. they hovered above you, the ghost of her touch lingering. you already missed it. ellie quickly scanned your face for any indication of feeling.
you were lost for words, every hopeless hope that you had held and carried with you for weeks turned out not to be hopeless after all. now probably wasn’t the best time to feel shy, but nerves consumed you.
despite them though, you laughed. “so when jesse said someone that ellie likes…”
“yes,” ellie confirmed.
you grinned. “me too.”
“yeah?” ellie asked softly.
you hummed in response, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as ellie leaned in once again. you allowed yourself to be kissed, drowning out your nervous feelings with complete and total bliss.
you pulled away first this time, drawing your knees up to your chest.
"how long?" you inquired, peering to the spot on the wall where the sticky notes were on display.
"since the first day, when a pretty girl was in my class and i had to take the seat in front of her."
"me?" you whispered, as if you were being let in on a secret. in a way, you supposed, you were.
ellie nodded enthusiastically.
"me too," you said with a frown. "good thing you finally spoke to me, 'cause class would've ended before i had the chance."
"good thing," ellie agreed with a hum. you wanted to kiss her again.
"so, is there a reason i got invited to lunch? they said something about you canceling all the time," you mused.
ellie waved it off. "just dina being dina. i was canceling but... there was only so much time left in the semester to try and impress you," ellie joked wistfully.
you shook your head in disbelief. "i can't believe this."
"you? what about me?" ellie countered. "when i saw you that night at the bar, with that guy? god, i was fucking praying that you didn't have a boyfriend or something."
"cute," you responded simply, to which ellie wrinkled her nose.
"oh, and when i gave you my number?" ellie continued on, talking animatedly now. "and you didn't text me at all during the entire weekend?" ellie shook her head, letting out a breathy laugh. "i thought it was over for me."
"i was so scared," you admitted.
"it's okay," ellie reassured you. "we got to the bottom of it."
you smiled, looking at your hands. the silence that ensued was comfortable.
"were you ever going to tell me?" you asked finally.
ellie sighed heavily, scanning your face. "i don't know. i wasn't sure if you wanted me to. i had to be sure." she looked down at your hands, fidgeting and wringing.
you nodded in understanding. "you were sort of driving me crazy these past few weeks. i couldn't tell if you actually liked me or if i was overreacting to everything."
"oh, join the club," ellie mused.
okay, note to self, trust your gut feeling. unless anxiety is controlling your gut feeling. then… disregard completely. other note to self, try to figure out the difference between a real gut feeling and an anxious, fake gut feeling.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
you talked and talked with ellie until the sun went down. you had hardly noticed it had gotten dark. the shades and curtains were open, once letting in the natural light from the day. the room grew dark as night fell, but neither of you moved from the bed. you sat, talking and laughing and whispering and you wondered how cheesy you would seem if you pinched yourself.
time ticked by no matter how much you opposed it, and the threat of morning weighed heavy on you.
"i'll walk you," ellie insisted once you were putting on your shoes.
you glanced out of the window. snow was piling up quickly. it was beautiful to look at, but you dreaded the walk back to your dorm.
"are you kidding? no way," you refused. you felt bad enough the last time that ellie had walked you home, and that night's weather was nice compared to tonight.
"are you kidding?" ellie began putting on her shoes, lacing up her converse.
"i'm just going to go," you threatened flatly.
"okay, i'll just trail behind you and try not to look like a total creep," ellie retorted.
you pushed out a breath of air, trying not to smile. ellie had her jacket on quicker than you did anyway.
when ellie asked if you had gloves this time, you were proud to pull them out of your coat pocket to show her.
"a hat?" ellie questioned next.
"i can't find my earmuffs," you grumbled.
in response, ellie placed her own hat on your head, tugging it down so that it covered your ears with a look of determination on her face.
the walk was peaceful, though trudging through the quickly fallen snow had proven to be difficult. it was beautiful though, and ellie guided you with a careful hand on your arm so you could focus your gaze upward, at the falling snowflakes.
when you arrived at your dorm, you both hesitated in the cold despite your noses turning red.
"ellie, do you want to come in fo-"
"yes," ellie quickly answered. you grinned.
yourself and ellie spent two more hours talking together. you stood back and observed while ellie paced around your room, looking at pictures and trinkets. everything about her was endearing. the shy smile that graced her lips upon seeing the sticky notes on your wall was the reason behind your third kiss that night.
when ellie finally had to leave, she parted with promises to text when she had made it safely. and she did.
you traced her name from the sticky note over and over, emotions swelling inside of you. despite the calm you felt fairly overwhelmed, left with so much to process. positively overwhelmed, at least. no longer would you lose sleep, analyzing and overthinking trying to figure out if ellie could truly like you.
like like like!
you would see her again after break, it was certain. you would text her, not worrying if ellie didn't really want you to have her number.
after all, she gave it to you for a reason... just as she reminded you before leaving for her dorm.
so of course, you promised to text her.
and you did.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
tags :
@pinkfillerose @whore-era @lilisvlibrary @elliefilms @whteflwcrs @jasontoddsdreamgirl @icedcold @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @evanpetersluver @muthafuckingstargirl @pctcr @illicitghosts @mell0w-mushr00m @queen-arya22 @deafelliewilliams @urmyheartshaka @yourfrenchteacher @me-and-your-husband @blairfox04 @saturnsrem @poopedmypants47 @shehitdenaenae @jrjlc
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams college au#ellie tlou x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou x female reader#ellie williams fanfic
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~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 22: ~
Reunions Part 2:
And now, it's Addair's turn. The next chapter will be a one-shot release for Halloween. It'll be out tomorrow.
Halloween Special:
Addair and Raffs had no reason to work together on The Beria, but on the farm, they oddly worked well together. Raffs thought Addair must have been a handyman in his previous life because he seemed to know everything. And not just from checking the fences.
When they passed through a deserted field, Addair's eyes caught the attention of a tractor that was beginning to rust. Instead of helping Raffs pry off the broken board for a new one, he lifted and examined the vehicle. From the punctured tires to the cracked clutch. Instead of being frustrated with Addair, Raffs was in awe of him. Not for the god-like strength he now possessed because he knew he could never come close to that, but for how knowledgeable he was.
He watched the engineer point out the faults and how he would fix them. Raffs was always willing to learn, and even if he'll never see farming in his future, it was a good way to break the ice with a man he was told to avoid.
'Will it ever run again?'
'After some trial and error, it might.'
'How do you know that?'
'I've only been an engineer for six years, Raffety. Before that, I did anything to scrape by.' That wasn't an original story. Like Caz, Roy, Innes, and possibly many others, they all came to the rig to either escape something or make a change. Raffs was different. He just followed Brodie. Brodie came for the prospect of money. Something that wasn't at all selfish in this economy.
As the pair finished their round, the sound of the snow crunching beneath their feet got closer. They didn't react at first, thinking it was Caz coming to help as Raffs began to hammer a nail into the post. That was until Addair heard the voice.
'Dad! Dad!'
Like with Gibbo, time froze, but unlike Gibbo, Addair turned with a smile on his face. He dropped the fence board he was holding, leaving Raffs to deal with it alone, and scooped up his son into a hug.
'Richard.' The youngest of his boys. Only seven years old. 'I missed you so much. Did you miss me?' Raffs was surprised. Not just because Richard didn't care what his dad had become, but because he had to remind himself that Addair was a member of the National Front. Looking at him now, you couldn't tell. Here, he was just being a good father. Who knew someone like Addair was a person under his political beliefs?
Richard nodded. 'Did you get my Christmas card?'
'Of course, and I let everyone know you made it. Now, where's Elliot?'
He knew where he was. It was a game the twins would often play. Richard would cause a distraction whilst Elliot tried to scare their dad. It never worked. Addair would either pretend to be scared or figure out his hiding spot. This time, it was the latter. Elliot had snuck is way around by going through the field. Raffs saw but didn't say anything. Instead of scaring his dad, Elliot felt a tendril wrap around his arm and be pulled up and over Addair's head. 'Oh, here he is.'
'Here I am!'
With a laugh, Addair brought his sons into a hug. Being the only one of two infected who still kept his arms had its advantages. Raffs smiled. It was a sweet reunion, but that soon came to a halt thanks to the voice of a woman only a few yards away.
'Calm down? How can I be calm?!' It was Jennifer. She stood beside her second eldest son, George, who looked both shocked and terrified by his mother's rage. Addair noticed, too, and set the boys down besides his work colleague. That was Raffs' cue to take them back to the house. 'My husband, your father, has been turned into that!'
Well, that stung. Still, Addair wasn't worried. He approached Jennifer, who had her back turned, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, turned, and took a few steps back. Okay. Now it hurt. Whatever remained of Addair's smile faded, and slight worry began to creep into his mind. He saw her eyes. She was scared, confused, and didn't know what to do with herself. This was Geroge's time to slowly step away and follow his brothers to the house.
'Jennifer. It's okay. It's just me.' She didn't reply. More worry. 'It's okay...'
'Stop saying that, Addair.' Now, complete worry entered his mind. She never called him by his name. Jennifer swallowed her fear, which was born from shock. But, now it was replaced with worry, but she couldn't bring herself to move. 'Look at what's happened to you. How are you okay?'
The words cut deep. Addair's jaw tightened, trying to hold himself strong to her words. A look of shame was in his eyes. Jennifer noticed and began to feel guilty, wondering why did she say such a thing. He wasn't okay, and they both knew that.
Addair carefully held out a hand and reached forward. 'But, it's still me, Jennifer. ' His hand rested on her cheek. After a moment, she leaned her face into him and, like Trots, rested her hand on his wrist. Her shoulders dropped, and she closed her eyes. She moved her head so that her face was in his hand. His smell was still there. Now, Jennifer didn't want to let go. Her fingers traced and touched his wedding ring. Tears swelled, but she stayed strong as she started to play with it.
Addair moved closer and adjusted his body to make it look like he was sitting. Carefully, he pulled and lifted Jennifer up and into one of his signature bear hugs. She clung to him, now no longer caring if she was hugging an exposed organ or blood vessel. 'Does it hurt?'
'No,' Addair answered truthfully. 'Not anymore.' More silence, as the pair enjoyed the moment. 'How's Tommy?' The question broke the hug. Jennifer's eyes were still full of tears.
'Still the same,' she replied as she began to unfurl her scarf to wrap it around Addair. 'The doctor said he still has brain activity, but apart from that, he's still sleeping.' A pause. 'I just want him to wake up.' Now, she began to cry, and Addair pulled her back into a hug. 'But that could take years.'
'And, we'll be there when he does. Okay? Please don't cry, Jenny.' Addair hated seeing his Goddess upset.
Of course, they had to think of Addair. How can he go back into society with a job, let alone go and see his son? That's what he wondered back when the fog was lifted. The question fueled his own anger towards Rennick, but Gibbo got to him first. But this wasn't about him anymore. He was just grateful to be back on land. He was grateful to have his wife in his arms and to see his sons smiling. The only thing they had to worry about now was Tommy.
He felt a kiss on his cheek that tightened the hug. They'll stay like this. At least for a little while.
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Surfboard
TW: Smut. Language.
JJ x Kook!Reader
Enemies to Lovers
SUMMARY: Your visit to The Chateau alters your and JJ's tolerance of each other.
*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*
Surfboard
Even the way a Kook's tires sounded on the gravel leading to The Chateau made JJ's jaw clench in annoyance. With Sarah, he had learned to ignore it for the sake of his friendship with John B. But you were not an exception. You were even classified as the bane of his existence. But you also happened to be Sarah's best friend. That annoying best friend always showing up in half a swimsuit that left the other half of you exposed as a reminder to what he could never have.
Not that he wanted you. At least that's what he told himself every time he saw you in his peripheral vision. Your curves teasing him always just out of reach. His mind cursed him with the proximity he didn't close. Hating you all because he wanted you and couldn't have you.
"Sorry, princess, Sarah isn't here..."
"Actually, I'm here to see you."
His eyes lifted from his surfboard spread out over the table before him. The wax stilled in his hand.
"You don't have any of your Kook boyfriend's with nothing else better to do?"
"They're all getting ready for the bonfire..." You pouted.
"You mean to tell me," He paused yet again, for dramatic effect. His expression drawn in sincerity despite the mischievous humor in his eyes and threatening the corners of his mouth.
"The world doesn't revolve around you? Huh..." He leaned across his board to reach you. The huff of his scoff felt against your lips. "Have you told you that?"
"Just forget it..." You spat, disappointment filling every nerve as you loathed leaving the way you affected him. This game you two played of not crossing a specific line of distant torment was your favorite form of entertainment. A tango of sorts. Only you suddenly felt as if you no longer knew how to dance when you got too close to him. Which he had been. Those taunting lips a mere inch and that look on his eyes validating he knew this effect.
"What did you want anyway?" He asked as you threw your hands in frustration.
"To surf."
"Topper "shred the waves" Thornton couldn't reach you?"
"Look, I came here to ask you because...because Sarah said you were good. Maybe I should remind her just because she's fucking John B doesn't mean everything in his life has value...What should I expect with your name-" You narrowed, taking this win before JJ glared and moved after you.
"You watch your mouth princess. You came here for a favor-"
"A momentary lapse of judgement." You took a step forward.
"Don't you have to have an IQ to have a lapse? I think all your little perfumes and things have taken it from ya."
"And what? You're Einstein?"
"Hardly..." He berated himself. "But even I know it would have been better to stay on your side of the island." He stood closer. Too close. Close enough to feel the fringes of his touch just beyond reach.
"Where. You. Belong."
But he didn't budge now. His face remained well over yours as his eyes draped in the space between you. A greedy and undeserving gaze when having spoken in such former cruelty to you.
"That's only because you couldn't handle me, Maybank."
A single moment of stillness before Earth's axis would shift. The pogue and the princess in an imperfect collision as his eyes fasted to the door of The Chateau before pulling you away from sight. A single wrap of his unkind fingers to your wrist and you were taken towards the surfboard. That fine line between enemies and potential acquaintances severed and savored as he set your hands greedily at the board before you.
"You are such a little fucking brat. Need someone to put you in your place-" Your skin illuminated from the inside out. His touch now a tease to your fingers as they were forced on the board.
"I need to teach you to be a good girl...a favor to the outer banks..." He pushed your body into the edge of the table within this shed on the property of The Chateau. Anyone could find you. A thrill in knowing this. But you could only truly focus on the new order.
"Keep your hands there." You felt his hands retract from the intertwine made over the board. A fresh grip made when you felt him tease your skin with his fingertips. Beginning at your wrists, a slow ascension that ended at your shoulders.
"It's about balance. You have to be able to keep centered...no matter what's on the outside of that board...focus." What he demanded was completely lost on him. His breath at your neck, the touch taunting the exposed skin you hoped he'd notice had been revealed for him, and the way his chest climbed and escaped that curve of your back. All for you. As you were all for him.
"If you could focus on anything but what shoes to wear for more than five minutes that is..." He smirked at his insult.
"I hate shoe shopping."
"Liar. I've seen you go with Sarah and Kie...Just last week."
"To see you. Even for a second." You confessed as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, at attention beneath your bikini top.
"You came here because you wanted me to make you come, princess?" You hesitated, but your head already bobbed. A grip to your hips turning you to face him. A blush across your cheeks unveiling some semblance of an existence behind otherwise siren eyes.
"I'm going to do something to you nobody ever has..." He leaned closer, unbuttoning those jeans shorts. His fingers on the edge of your suit bottoms within. A mismatched suit that somehow fit with adjacent coloring.
"I'm telling you no." He pushed you slightly into the surfboard, leaving you shocked as he began to move back to The Chateau, adjusting his seam, and wearing a grin of pride.
"You're an asshole, JJ!"
"Well now you're just flirting, sweetheart."
"You know what your problem is, JJ?' he stopped, "You can't stand Kook girls because you can't handle them. Because you can't last!" He suddenly charged back to you, your body placed back against the surfboard. His hand within your shorts and against your clit in perfect precision.
"I can't stand you. So fucking annoying with these little swimsuits. Bringing your ass around here acting like you're better than me. Like I can't touch you." He slipped your suit to the side. Your naked sex at his fingertips.
"The problem isn't that I can't. But once I have, you'll never be able to get off unless it is with me. Thinking about me while some other cock is inside of you..." His second hand lifted to your breast. Nipples twisted and pulled as his dominant hand accelerated in speed.
"I was doing you a favor by not touching you. But since you think you know best. I've gotta teach you a lesson-" He pulled his fingers away for a second, only to remove the shorts.
"You came here to be taught to surf...but I'm gonna teach you to fucking come." He bent you over the surfboard. His cock at the ready as a threat between your folds.
"Shame...how you gonna explain this to your little friends? Can't keep your mouth shut? Hmm?"
"Ah..." You groaned as he ran his head through your sex. Teasing and taunting, threatening and massaging, until one single thrust bottomed out within.
"That's right, princess, cry for it. God knows you need a good fuck..." He took hold of your hair, bending you without care of how the table dug into your hips. The piercing of his cock distracted you enough to ignore anything else.
"You think you're better than me? Then why are you begging over my cock, huh?" He questioned as you weren't aware of the pleas you made with each thrust he made within you.
"Because you're greedy. Because you want to be filled with my cum, fucked like a little slut, but go back and tell them I'm in love with you, right? You think everyone wants you? You think I can't help myself?" He flexed inside of you.
"This isn't for you. This is for me." He withdrew himself and forced you to your knees.
"This is for me. So show me you deserve this. And keep your mouth shut for five seconds."
"You'll only last that long?" You teased as he took his cock to your lips.
"Suck, princess." You obeyed. This game with rules now blissfully blurred as you took him. Deeply. His deep breath pleasing you enough to bypass that gagging feeling. Those teary eyes favored by him as he clenched his jaw at the sight.
"On your knees for a pogue...what would they think of you?" He pulled you deeper.
"Crying over my cock? What would they think of that?" He questioned as you closed your eyes to savor him. His length, the weight, the fulfillment, missing it within. Your eyes fixated on that fantasy before you were suddenly pulled over the table, legs spread by his angered and ringed fingers, before he dove between you. His cock reinstated in your sex as he thrusted and stilled.
"If you weren't such a brat, I'd make your eyes roll with what I could do on MY knees. But you came here to come. So fucking come." He was murderous in pounding into you. One after another, his cock and the weight following made you reliant solely on him. Your manicure ruined in his skin as you left lines of evidence to the words you couldn't say.
He wasn't just good. He was outlandish. Hitting that inner spot with conviction without needing to source you for it. As if he knew. As if he was built exclusively to command and please you.
"You want it, princess?"
"Yes! I'm so close!" He wrapped his hand over your mouth.
"If I wanted everyone to know I was fucking you, I would have you in figure Eight, ass up, and one of your stupid little parties. These little sounds are just for me." He pulled you closer to him. A deep French kiss sending you outside of your body. The way he held you was harsh, his thrusts cruel, but that kiss was an apology to both. An apology that mounted that need and edge within. Your body rolling over itself as your nerves were set alight.
"JJ!" You whined into his palm as his palm returned between the kisses. But your plea went unanswered as he set that hand to your neck and guided you flat upon the board.
"I want you to come on this board. So fucking hard that I can't help but feel you when I'm surfing. In the same water your precious Topper wins his titles and you let all of em touch you...Now!" He withdrew himself, fingers at a murderous pace as he forced your legs wider.
"Ahhh! JJ!! Fuuuuck!' his fingers bent and twisted, testing your strength until you came apart over him. Not just once. Twice. Spurts of not only an orgasm, but a squirt. Drenching your thighs and his board as requested. But he wasn't done. The fire in his eyes informed you of this. He took your hips and formed himself back inside of you. Resuming his pleasure. Now, building to a climb as he bent over you.
"Make me come. Use that greedy little pussy, princess...." You obeyed. Your body wrapped around him until it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. Your body lifted and slid against the board in gluttonous repetition until you felt a second orgasm form. Your body was no longer your own as he scoffed.
"Already? They really THAT impatient on your side or you just that fucking annoying they can't last?"
"I'm that good..." You finally managed back as he groaned, pulling your legs over his shoulders and finishing in a few pumps in this position.
"Goddamn..." He whined to himself, looking at the bliss across your face as you found a second release in the final thrusts of his first.
"Still want me to teach you to surf?"
"I got what I came for..." He cocked his jaw.
But even if you managed to seduce him and "win" this victory, he was already formulating that next party. That next time you were alone. Maybe even in eye-shot or earshot of your precious friends. That even then, he could make you come. Again. Maybe even harder. Maybe not at all.
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