#for two hours i will take a nap and see if everyone has gone to bed by then...

[batshikns]

was going to go to bed. but people are downstairs so i cant take my shower

solution? take a nap instead.

[capquinn]

okay i keep seeing fics and thoughts about how attentive quinn would be towards his partner and it got me thinking…

i feel like it would get to the point where he knows your body and your queues better than you know yourself. start to realize your allergies aren’t allergies? he already bought the meds you need and is making dinner. got your period? no surprise there, he has his own app for you and stocked up on snacks last week.

which brings me to this heheh.

i feel like once you have one or two babies with quinn he knows your pregnancy symptoms like the back of his hand. so much so that he tells YOU you’re pregnant again. and it would just hit him one night laying in bed (you know that man thinks himself to sleep)

I’m gone for him, enjoy my delulu land thoughts

hello????? this is so cute and so husband!quinn coded. i love this trope sm <3

Quinn moved through your world like he’d been born knowing the map of it. His care wasn’t loud or showy — it was quiet, woven into the seams of everyday life. He had a way of catching the things no one else would: the small shift in your posture when you were tired, the pause in your laugh when something was weighing on you. His hands knew the rhythm of your days, reaching for your mug before you could, adjusting the blanket without needing to ask if you were cold. It wasn’t that he studied you; it was more like you existed in a frequency he was always tuned into, effortlessly aware of every note, every shift, every unspoken word.

So, when the subtle changes began to creep in, Quinn noticed before you did.

It started with the small things — too small to put into words, but just noticeable enough for him to store away. The way you sighed a little heavier, your shoulders barely lifting before falling, as though the weight of the day had settled in deeper than usual. Or how you hesitated in doorways, pausing like you’d forgotten what you needed or where you were going, your brows knitting together in quiet thought. And then there was the tiredness, creeping in like a quiet visitor. Some afternoons, he’d find you curled up with Bug during her nap, the two of you tangled in a mess of blankets on the couch, her tiny hand resting on your chest as you dozed. It wasn’t like you, not the you he knew who thrived on filling the hours, always moving, always doing.

At first, he dismissed it. Everyone had their moments, days when energy flagged, when the world felt a little out of sync. But then the bigger, more obvious changes began to take root.

It began with the walk. You, Quinn, and Bug strolled through the neighbourhood on a crisp winter morning, the kind where the air felt fresh but not too biting. Bug was hopping along, gripping Quinn’s hand and jumping over cracks in the pavement. You paused by a lamppost, your gaze snagged on a flyer stapled to the pole. It was for a missing dog, the corners frayed from the cold. The photo — a golden retriever with the sweetest, dopey smile — stared back at you, and your throat tightened inexplicably.

You tried to hide it, quickly swiping at the tears that pricked your eyes, but Quinn noticed instantly. “You okay?” he asked, his brows knitting in concern.

You nodded too quickly, your voice unconvincing. “I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off, breathing a shaky laugh as the tears spilled anyway. “The poor dog…”

Quinn stopped in his tracks, gently pulling Bug to his other side so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice warm and steady. “We’ll keep an eye out. Maybe someone’s already found him,” he said softly, though his brows furrowed as he held you. 

You were sentimental, yes, but crying over a lost dog poster wasn’t like you. He kissed the top of your head, the thought lingering as Bug tugged at his hand to keep moving.

A few days later, it happened again. Bug had tripped over a loose stone in the driveway. It wasn’t anything dramatic — just one of those little stumbles kids have a dozen times a day. She scraped her knee, barely even a mark, and at first, she just sat there staring at it, trying to decide if it was worth crying over. Her lips wobbled, her big eyes filling with tears, and then came the wail — not loud, not panicked, just enough to let you know she’d decided it hurt.

Quinn crouched beside her in a heartbeat, his voice gentle and steady. “Hey, Bug, you’re okay,” he murmured, brushing the tiny specks of gravel off her knees. His hand lingered there for a moment, his thumb grazing the fabric as if to check for any real damage. “It’s just a little scrape. Barely even a scratch, see?”

Bug sniffled, her tiny hands clutching at the hem of his shirt as she leaned toward him, and Quinn scooped her up without hesitation. She buried her face against his chest, her little body shuddering with the last remnants of her tears.

You stood a few steps back, frozen in place. It wasn’t the scrape that did it, not really. It was the way her small shoulders shook, the way her face had crumpled like her whole world had been upended. It was her tears — so big and overwhelming for someone so small. Watching her cry felt like something cracking open inside you, and before you could stop yourself, tears pricked at the corners of your own eyes.

Quinn looked up, catching your expression in an instant. His brows furrowed slightly, his concern shifting toward you.

“She’s okay,” he said softly, his voice meant to reassure.

But the sight of him, standing there with Bug tucked safely against his chest, his voice low and calming, only made the ache in your chest sharper. Your hand flew up to your face, brushing quickly at your cheek to catch the tear that escaped, but Quinn noticed anyway. Of course, he noticed.

“Hey,” he said, his tone even gentler now, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on?”

You tried to smile, but it came out shaky, your voice catching as you whispered, “Nothing, I’m fine. Just—” You swallowed hard, glancing at Bug’s little face as she peeked up at you, her tears already drying. “I’m being silly.”

She blinked at you, her sniffles slowing, her tiny voice soft as she said, “I’m okay, mommy.”

The sweetness of her reassurance undid you completely. Another tear slid down your cheek, and you let out a quiet, shaky laugh, brushing it away as Quinn stepped closer. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you into the circle of warmth he and Bug created.

But even as the moment passed, it stayed with him. 

And then came the smell of popcorn.

Family movie night was the kind of weekly tradition that carried a quiet comfort, the kind that made the whole house feel warmer and softer. Bug had already claimed her spot on the couch, clutching her stuffed bear, her little feet kicking in excitement as Quinn rummaged in the kitchen, the air popper humming softly. The scent of fresh popcorn started wafting through the house, buttery and rich, and he could already hear Bug giggling at the first loud pop.

But something was off. 

You were mid-step to the couch, arms full of blankets, when you froze. Your nose crinkled, the kind of subtle movement Quinn might’ve missed if he hadn’t glanced up right then. You turned your head slightly, as if testing the air, and then your hand shot up, waving in front of your face like you could swat the smell away.

“Can you—” you hesitated, your voice uncharacteristically small. “Can you open the windows? Please?”

Quinn, mid-pour as the popcorn spilled into a bowl, paused, confused. “It’s freezing outside,” he said lightly, not in a way meant to argue but more like a question.

“Quinn, please” you said, cutting him off, your voice sharp with desperation. Your face had scrunched up, your hand pressing against your nose as you braced yourself on the back of a chair. “The smell...”

That was all it took. Without another word, he crossed to the window, shoving it open. A gust of cold air rushed in, making him shiver, but he stayed there for a second, staring at you as you sank onto the couch. You were pale, almost a little green, pulling the blanket over you like it could shield you from the lingering scent in the air.

He settled the bowl down, watching you carefully.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft and steady, the way it always was when he was trying to gently coax the truth out of you. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment in his tone, just that familiar warmth that made it impossible to brush him off completely.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though the tight smile on your face didn’t convince him. “It’s just… the smell of melted butter. It’s so strong tonight.”

His gaze lingered, his brow furrowing. The smell? The smell of buttery popcorn? You’d practically declared it your comfort food not long ago, sneaking bites every time he made a batch before the film had even started, laughing as Bug scolded you for eating hers. He could count on one hand the number of family movie nights where you hadn’t stolen the first handful, claiming quality control. But now? Now, you looked like you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with it.

“You want me to grab you something else? Crackers? Tea?” he offered, trying to fill the silence with solutions, throwing them out suggestions like lifelines.

You shook your head, brushing him off with a small wave. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

But Quinn wasn’t convinced. He sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Bug wriggled into his lap, her giggles filling the room. You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, and for a while, it felt like everything was back to normal.

But it wasn’t.

As Bug chattered happily about the movie, Quinn’s mind lingered on you. On the way your face had twisted, the way you recoiled from something you once loved. It wasn’t like you. Not at all. And the longer he held you close, the more certain he became that this wasn’t just a bad reaction to popcorn. It was something more. He just didn’t know what — yet.

But the biggest changes came just a couple of days later, revealing themselves in moments that caught Quinn completely off guard.

It was early in the morning, the kind of stillness that only came before the rest of the house stirred awake. Bug was sound asleep in her room, her soft snores barely audible through the monitor, and the house seemed wrapped in a peaceful hush. The air between you and Quinn felt heavier, charged, but in the best way — soft whispers, shared breaths, and the warmth of his body pressed close.

His hands moved over your skin with practiced tenderness, his touch warm and familiar, every stroke an unspoken declaration of love. His lips followed, pressing soft, languid kisses along your collarbone, trailing a path that left your skin tingling. This was how he loved you — slowly, deeply, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But then his lips brushed against your breast, featherlight, as if he was testing how far he could push before the teasing turned into something more. And yet—

“Quinn,” you whimpered, a sharp intake of breath cutting through the stillness as you shifted away from him. “Be gentle.”

He froze instantly, his concern immediate as he lifted his head to look at you. “I am,” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with confusion. He searched your face, his hands stilling on your waist as if waiting for you to say more.

You shook your head, swallowing against the lump in your throat. “It just… hurts,” you admitted, the words coming out softer than you intended, almost like you were embarrassed by them.

Quinn’s expression softened, an apology already forming in the tilt of his brow. He leaned in, brushing a kiss to the inside of your breast as though it could somehow make up for the discomfort, but you pulled away again, wincing before his lips even made full contact.

“Quinn, that hurts,” you repeated, a little louder this time, your hand coming up to shield yourself instinctively, a clear sign for him to avoid the area altogether.

His hands dropped to your hips, retreating as he leaned back, his brows knitting together further. He watched you carefully, his gaze full of questions he didn’t ask, giving you space but not pulling away entirely.

Quinn frowned, his thumb brushing over your skin in a soothing motion. “I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet sincerity.

“I know,” you replied quickly, offering him a small smile to reassure him. “It’s just… everything feels so sensitive.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck instead, but he could feel your hesitation, the way your body tensed slightly, as if bracing for more discomfort.

But even as he moved his touch elsewhere, skimming his hands over your back, your thighs, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing. Your reaction was unusual, out of sync with how things normally were between you. He’d always been attuned to your body, your needs, and this? This was different.

Still, when you pulled him closer, guiding him to where you wanted him, he let it go for now.

And it's later that night when everything makes perfect sense.

Quinn crawls into bed and the first thing he notices isn’t the movie playing on Netflix or the cosy way you’re propped up against the pillows. No, his attention zeroes in on the plate balanced on your lap — a plate of pickles, shiny and brined, with a big dollop of peanut butter right in the middle. His movements falter, half under the covers, as his eyes flick between you and the plate, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

You don’t even notice him staring, too distracted by scrolling through movie options. “What?” you ask, glancing over briefly before returning your attention to the TV.

“Who’s that for?” he asks, his voice slow, deliberate, like he’s waiting for the punchline.

“Me,” you reply without missing a beat, your tone distracted. “Why, you want some?”

He’s fully under the covers now, leaning back against the headboard, one brow raised as he studies you. “You hate pickles,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a smile.

You pause mid-bite, glancing over at him with a small frown. “I don’t hate them,” you argue, tone light but defensive, gesturing to the plate like it proves your point. “They’re just not my go-to snack. But they’re fine.”

His brow furrows deeper, his gaze flicking between you and the plate. “Since when?”

“Since now, I guess,” you shrug, as if it’s not worth discussing. Without missing a beat, you swipe another pickle through the peanut butter and take a bite, chewing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Quinn doesn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches you. The corner of his mouth twitches again, but this time it’s not amusement — it’s something closer to realisation. Something is clicking into place, and as he leans his head back against the pillows, his gaze softens, filled with something you can’t quite place.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him as you catch the look on his face. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He leans back against the pillows, shifting as if to settle in, and shrugs, his tone casual — too casual. “No reason,” he says, his voice smooth, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays him.

You squint at him, suspicious. “Quinn…”

He shakes his head, lifting the blanket higher around his chest like it’s a shield, his eyes now glued to the TV. “Seriously,” he murmurs, his voice low, distracted. “It’s nothing.”

But you can see the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the way his lips press together like he’s holding back a grin. You open your mouth to press him further, but he shifts again, leaning into your side under the blanket as if that’s the end of the conversation.

Later, when the movie ends with a soft hum and the credits roll, the light from the screen flickers faint shadows across the room before everything dims into darkness. The lamp on the nightstand clicks off with a quiet snap, leaving the room bathed in a cosy stillness. The only sound now is Bug’s tiny snores filtering through the baby monitor, soft and steady, her little sighs rising and falling in a rhythm so gentle it could lull anyone to sleep.

You’re curled against Quinn’s side, warm and relaxed, your head resting on his chest, his arm draped around you as his fingers trace absentminded patterns over your back. The weight of the day lingers faintly in the air, softened by the quiet and the comfort of each other’s presence, and it should feel serene, the kind of moment Quinn would normally soak in without question, but not tonight.

His eyes are open, fixed on the ceiling though he isn’t really seeing it. His body is still, though his mind is anything but. It’s racing, piecing together a puzzle he didn’t even realise he was solving until tonight. The pickles and peanut butter. The popcorn. The tears over Bug’s scraped knee. The extra naps curled up on the couch. Each moment replays in his head, flashing brighter with every pass until there’s no way he can chalk it up to coincidence.

Bug’s little snore drifts through the monitor again, and he glances down at you, still nestled against him, your face soft and relaxed. He’s usually content to let moments like this pass unspoken, holding them close without the need to fill the silence. But tonight, the weight of what he’s realised feels too big to ignore.

It’s not nothing. Not even close.

“Baby?” he murmurs, his voice soft, careful not to break the quiet too harshly, trying not to startle you.

You hum softly against him, your head shifting slightly to nuzzle closer against him, your body too close to sleep to fully respond.

His hand stills on your back, and he swallows, the weight of what he’s about to say heavy in the stillness. “I think…” He draws in a breath, steeling himself for how to say it. “I think you’re pregnant.”

Slowly, you lift your head, your eyes meeting his in the dim light filtering through the blinds, your expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“What?” you whisper, your voice rough with sleep, your tone teetering between shock and amusement. “You can’t possibly know that.”

Quinn tilts his head down to meet your eyes, his own full of something soft and sure. There’s the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth, as though he’s both amused and completely serious all at once. Like he knows how absurd this might sound but believes it wholeheartedly.

“The pickles and peanut butter,” he says simply, his voice calm. “That’s not normal.”

You sit up a little, propping yourself on one elbow, your brow furrowing. “It’s not that weird,” you try to argue, though your voice wavers, betraying your uncertainty. “People eat stuff like that all the time.”

“Not you,” he counters immediately, insistent. His hand moves to rest on your waist, grounding. “You hate pickles. Always have. The only time you’ve ever eaten them was when you were pregnant.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. His statement hangs in the air between you, heavy with meaning, his certainty pressing against your rising disbelief.

“I mean… that’s not…” you start, your voice trailing off as the pieces begin to fall into place in your mind. “That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant,” you insist, but even as you say it, doubt creeps in. Your free hand drifts unconsciously to your stomach, resting there like it might offer some kind of confirmation.

Quinn’s thumb brushes against your side, the touch grounding but gentle, as if he doesn’t want to push you too far, too fast. “Maybe,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s offering you the space to deny it if you want. “But you’ve been tired, more emotional… and now this?” His lips twitch again, the faintest smile playing there, but his eyes stay steady on yours, filled with a quiet conviction.

You blink at him, a laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep in your chest — not from amusement, but disbelief. “Quinn, people eat weird food combos all the time. This doesn’t mean—”

“You really think it’s just a coincidence?” he interrupts gently, his tone more curious than challenging. “Pickles and peanut butter, of all things? That was your thing, baby. With Bug.”

The reminder makes you pause, your brow furrowing deeper as you glance down at where his hand rests on your waist. “That was… different,” you mutter, though the protest sounds weak even to your own ears.

Quinn leans in slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours, the closeness pulling your gaze back to his. His eyes are soft but insistent, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. His face is so steady, so full of quiet certainty, and it makes something flicker in your chest — a suspicion, a possibility, something you hadn’t let yourself consider until now.

“You’re serious,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, the words more of an observation than a question, as if it’s just dawning on you that he isn’t joking. He genuinely believes it.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I know you,” he murmurs, his tone as gentle s his touch. “And I’m telling you… you’re pregnant.”

You blink at him, your lips parting slightly, but no real words come out at first. Then, with a quiet laugh that’s half disbelief, half affection, you shake your head and murmur, “how do you always figure me out before I do?”

Quinn’s lips curve into a soft, lopsided smile, the kind that makes your chest ache with how much love it holds. “I pay attention,” he says simply, his hand still cradling your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye.

You lean into his touch, your own hand coming up to rest lightly over his wrist. "And what if you're wrong?"

His chuckle rumbles low and easy in his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there like he’s trying to pass some of his certainty onto you. "I don’t think I am," he says, his voice gentle, but the confidence behind it makes your pulse hum.

You don’t argue. Instead, you let the quiet between you stretch, the weight of his words settling softly over you. It’s fragile and insistent, nudging at the edges of your disbelief, coaxing you to consider it.

The idea blooms slowly, like a dawning realisation, soft and tentative, but impossible to ignore. It unfolds in layers — the thought of two children filling your home with laughter and chaos, the sight of Bug as a big sister, her tiny hands guiding even tinier ones, her voice full of pride and importance. You can almost hear the way she’d say it, proclaiming herself the helper, the protector, the best big sister in the world. The idea of another little person, someone with Quinn’s soft eyes and quiet strength, someone who might scrunch their nose when they smile, just like he does. Another piece of him, and of you, wrapped up into someone entirely their own. The thought is overwhelming in its sweetness, in the weight of its possibility.

You press closer against Quinn’s chest, your head resting over his heart as his fingers trace those lazy, familiar patterns on your back. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear, grounding you in the moment, as if reminding you that you don’t have to figure it all out right now. And as the quiet fills the room, pierced only by Bug’s little sighs through the monitor, you let yourself imagine it more fully, the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe — just maybe — he’s right.

[lanadelnegan]

My Girl

S7!Negan x Reader

Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??

OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.

Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket

A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.

"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.

Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.

I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.

The more I get to see him, the merrier.

I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.

"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.

"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.

"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."

His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.

I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.

"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.

"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, doll. Miss me?"

"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.

"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."

Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.

There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.

When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.

"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.

"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.

He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.

I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.

"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.

My face burns with embarrassment at his words.

"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.

"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"

Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.

"Negan... I need you."

"I know baby." He breathes out.

My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.

"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.

"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.

"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."

I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.

The big dick energy definitely checks out.

I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.

"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.

"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."

I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"

"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."

Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.

"Deeper, y/n." He demands.

When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.

"Bend over."

"W-what?"

"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.

I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.

"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."

He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.

"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.

I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.

I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.

He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.

"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.

"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"

My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.

"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."

"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"

I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."

"Then it's a deal, baby."

"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.

He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.

"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."

"Simon's keeping watch, doll."

His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"

He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."

My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.

"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"

I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.

"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.

He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.

He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.

My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.

"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.

"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.

"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"

"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.

I quickly get up and fix my dress.

"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.

Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.

"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."

"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."

"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."

Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.

"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.

"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.

Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.

"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.

"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.

"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.

Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."

My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.

Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."

"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.

I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.

A few hours later:

The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.

What if he doesn't come..

What if it's a trap..

What if he lied about everything he said..

Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..

Shut up. He wouldn't do that.

This is a bad idea. What am I doing.

Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.

"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.

"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."

He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.

"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"

"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.

"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.

He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.

My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.

"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.

He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.

"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."

He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"

I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."

I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."

"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.

I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"

That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.

I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."

He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.

"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.

Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"

"No, I want to."

He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."

I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.

"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."

"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.

I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.

“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”

I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.

Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.

“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.

I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.

"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.

My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.

"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.

I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.

“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.

He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.

“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.

He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"

I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.

"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.

My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.

I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.

"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.

"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."

"Touch me, Negan. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please Negan."

He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.

His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.

"Try again, doll."

"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.

"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.

I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.

"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.

My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.

"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."

He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.

"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.

After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.

"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"

Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.

This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.

"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."

He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.

"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"

"Yes! Please." I whine.

He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.

I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.

"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"

"He's not here, sweetheart."

"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.

"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.

"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"

"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."

"And.. and he gave it to you?!"

Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."

The next morning:

My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.

What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..

I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.

"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.

"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.

"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.

He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.

"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.

"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.

"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.

He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.

My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.

"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.

"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."

"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."

"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."

The End.

[harumasa-wifey]

Could I request Harumasa getting hugs from his partner to cure his sadness?

➷Sweet Dreams♡

✖Asaba Harumasa x gn!Reader

Warnings: No proofread. Just fluff and lots of kissing and a bit of chaos.

Note:I am sorry fellas for disappearing like that. I have an important upcoming exam which will determine my next course of life and i have been very busy preparing for it i am thankful for everyone reading this i am Posting this 3 hours before my class and i haven't slept.WE RUN ON COFFEE!Comment here if you wanna be added to tags on my next post

Tags: @pasuteruwu

Today was very cruel to him. Well scratch that every day at work is cruel to him only he knows how he escaped the overtime today, it takes skill to skip all this work!

Everyone has been working hard to clean up the message in the pale hollow so he should do his part too, now that everything has come to an end he can finally have a day off and see his beautiful partner, who must have already gone to their shared apartment by now.

Ever since he has brought asaboo into house it's an Chaos with his cat.They seem to be always chasing each other, well mostly it's his cat chasing but sometimes the roles do get reversed, asaboo’s favourite spot of taking a nap is besides the window on the bedroom anytime of the day is good for him, so he would not be surprised by view he might get after he enters into the house and he definitely would swipe some pictures.

“I am home!” he announced his arrival cheerfully making his way inside, it felt nice to have someone waiting for you, someone you love.

To his surprise it was rather quiet as he stepped in the house removing his shoes and he went into the living room, the movie on the tv was on pause as the viewer was dozing off on the couch, given their position you must have been waiting for him, but his attention was very much caught by the bangboo sleeping on your lap hogging the place for himself.

Oh as much he didn't want to interrupt you and be by your side quietly, his cat had other plans. His gaze flicked from the cat on the floor who looked ready to pounce on the bangboo sleeping without a single worry of the world.

“EHH-NAAA” There is it , the loud screech of asaboo as he got back on his feet after being scratched by the cat. You jolt awake from your sleep,hitting your head with his.

“Ouch ouch ouch” you ignored the pain on your forehead and looked at the man who had now dramatically fallen on the carpet from the impact.

“Ah my vision, the world is spinning. Only if there was any beautiful and kind person out there who would help me”

“Seriously haru. You could have wake me up”

As you voice out your concern and helping him sit back up while those two did a chaotic chase around the house.

“Now now what kind of boyfriend would I be , to wake up my beautiful partner from their sleep, you should take some notes and join me for extra sleep in the mornings”

“So you can be late to work? Yeah nice try but sorry i cannot be late”

These was the fourth round these two were making around you both, you held out your head gently placing your fingers on the cats forehead stoping it from running further as asaboo hides behind you wiping his non-existance sweat while voicing out his complains which you couldn't understand, to say it was just as dramatic as the real him.

“That's enough from you two. Both of you can't go a day without chasing eachother, can you?”

The duo just looked down cutely hoping to achieve your forgiveness with that act.

“Yeah, listen to your mother” said the guy who was now laying on your lap instead, not that you'll ever mind.The duo made their peace and went back to thier perspective places.

You look down on your lap gently brushing his hair off his face.

“As if thier dad ever listens to me”

“Heyy now what's with the false accusations, i can't go a day without you, ya know it” he said while gently holding your hand and placing a soft kiss on your fingertips. Your frown was now replaced with a gentle smile.

“Are you planning to sleep on the floor tonight?”

“Well if you do whose am i to refuse”

“Well as I don't plan too you should get up” you said as you get up and he follows behind.

“Hours since i have been home and not a single kiss , i guess my death is written today”

“sir it's been roughly twenty minutes since you have entered.” strong arms warp around your waist from behind with his face nuzzled on your shoulder.

“ twenty minutes feels like twenty hour's without you.” Suddenly you felt his hands move down , a light yell escaped your lips as he strated tickling you.

“Ha! Haru stop” you hear him laugh behind you taking the chance to push him on the bed, it was your turn now.

After a minute of laughing and trying to overthrow each other he ended up nuzzling his face on your neck with his arms wrapped around.

“I am sooo tired” he whispered, taking a sigh to relax while your hands rub his scalp particularly wooing him to sleep, He looked up at her with drowsy eyes.

“Aren't you forgetting something?”

“Hmm, and what would that be?”

“Come on now! Your poor sick boyfriend has been working all day long, have some pity”

“Ah yes, such an unfortunate event let me make it up to you hm?” You said as you lean in to lock your lips with his, which would have been a small kiss but turned to a sloppy and lazy makeout session.

After a minute of exchanging and showering his face with kisses , you both parted away as he drifts off to sleep in your embrace with a small smile playing on his lips ever since he entered today and with no intention to leave even if the sun was up in the sky.

“Goodnight haru, i love you”

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ long day - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: Y/N is exhausted and Joesph hasn't really noticed until she breaks down after a long day. request: Can I request?? Joesph Woll (my one true love) with reader maybe something along the lines of ‘you look after everyone else but who looks after you’ like super soft ?! I can’t write but I NEED this please, of course only if you are up for it🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 word count: 1078 warning(s): FLUFF, established relationship, joe being oblivious, not proof read notes: my first request !! i know exactly how reader feels rn. finals are kicking my ass. this is not crazy long because i'm still learning to write long fics but i really hope you enjoy it !! xoxo

Joe's keys jingle as he unlocks the door to your shared condo. He kicks off his sneakers and drops his gym bag on the ground.

"Hey, baby, I'm home!" he raises his voice so you can hear him from another room. There's no response. Weird, normally you are working in the kitchen or taking a nap by the time he gets home from practice. The TV in the living room is off and the condo is eerily silent.

Making his way down the hallway towards your bedroom, he opens the door. The bed is made and your purse, keys and phone are gone from their usual spot on the nightside table. Joe furrows his brow in confusion and walks back into the main area of the house. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees a missed call from you, but only one. And no texts.

Wandering into the kitchen, he sees a sticky note on the fridge. Joe takes it off and reads it.

Got called into work. See you at 9:00.

9:00? It's only 5:00 right now. He pulls out his phone and opens your chat.

Sorry about work, sweetheart. See you when you get home.

He sighs. You weren't scheduled to work today. You weren't even supposed to be called in today. He rubs his eyes and yawns. Five hour practice has him wiped. He'll just watch Seinfeld and wait for you to get home, he decides. Then you can both eat together and go to bed.

"Ow, fuck!"

Joe eyes open fast. He jerks awake and almost falls off the couch. He blinks a few times and turns over on his back.

"Joeeeee!!"

He jumps slightly again. You make your way into the living room, "Why are your shoes and bag just in the middle of the floor? I just tripped on them". You look at him with your mouth slightly open, emphasizing you shock.

"Sorry, baby, I-". "Whatever, I'm going to bed" you walk towards your bedroom and close the door hard. You change quickly into more comfortable clothes before Joe walks in.

"How was your day?" he asks, coming over to sit on the side of the bed with you. "Long," you reply, not looking up from your bag as you rummage around, searching for a hair slip. Joe chuckles, "I assumed so, but that's not what I asked. How was your day? What did you do?".

You look up at him and he notices tears swelling in your eyes. "Can I have a hug?" you ask softly. He nods, "Of course". Immediately, your arms wrap around his waist and he can hear soft sobs coming from where your head is buried in his chest.

"Y/N, is everything ok?"

You lift your head and look at him. You nod slowly, a single tear falling from your left eye. Joe moves his thumb to wipe it away and you sniffle.

"Don't lie to me, love. You know that doesn't work."

As if on cue, you start sobbing once more. "Today was so hard, Joey. I have exams coming up and I have barely studied. I was called into work because Jessica called in sick and we are short staffed. Even though I told my boss I couldn't come in, he insisted. He said he'd pay me time and a half but it wasn't worth it.". You pause and inhale deeply, then continue, "Jessica has done none of her work for an article due for publishing in two days, so I basically edited the whole thing. And then on the way home, my sister called and said she needs us to watch the boys next week while she and her husband go to Seattle. We don't have space for them, Joe. But, of course, my mom can't because she is off in Europe for 6 weeks. So, who else will they go to? An orphanage? No, they will come live in our not baby proofed one bedroom condo for 4 days".

By this point you have stopped crying as much and are more in a rant of rage than anything. Joe sits quietly with his hand on your back, feeling your heartbeat. He listens. Normally, you are a ray of sunshine. So peaceful and bright. However, right now, you seem more like a bridge collapsing under too much weight.

"On top of that, I missed the exit for Wendy's so I didn't even get to eat. I'm starving and I'm tired and burnt out and I can't rest because everyone needs something constantly. I'm just... done". You stop ranting and sigh, feeling defeated.

"Wow"

You look up at him, confused, "What?"

"Y/N, you're so... strong". Joe smiles softly and continues, "You take care of everyone. All their bullshit, all their needs. Even mine. I come home every night to a wonderful girlfriend who is getting her education and has a demanding job, but still makes sure my home feels like home. You look after everyone else. But let me ask you something, baby, who looks after you?"

You tilt your head in confusion at the question, "I don't know. Me, I guess". Joe shakes his head. "Wrong, I do. Or, at least, I should be. I'm sorry I haven't noticed the pressure you are under. Do you work tomorrow?"

You nod again. He shakes his head once more, “Call in sick. I have practice early tomorrow but no game. When I get home, I'll help you study for exams. Then, I'll take you out for a nice dinner and we can go see a movie. Sound good?"

You nod again, this time with a small smile forming on your face. He picks you up, slamming you back down on the bed. You laugh and yawn.

He asks, "Time for bed?"

You stretch and wipe your eyes. "Mhm, long day". Joe laughs and slips you both under the covers after turning off the lights and closing your blinds. He places his arm under your head and you body instinctively shifts toward him.

"Joe?" you ask, your eyes already closed.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow... can we go to the pretty library to study? The one... on Queen?". Joe chuckles at the pauses you take mid sentence. You must truly be exhausted. "Of course, baby, anything you want," he replies, stroking your cheek and tucking your hair behind your ear, "I love you, Y/N".

"I love you too, Joey"

[bucketbueckers]

ACCOUNTING

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader (no use of y/n) wc: 2.8k synopsis: you're watching kk and the rest of the team fool around on live when azzi fudd walks in asking for an accounting tutor. deciding to humor it, you're surprised to find that azzi was completely serious, and even more surprised when your offer leads to something more between the two of you. notes: in honor of azzi fudd hoops last night - i was supposed to have this up before the game but i forgot i had a three hour lab and unfortunately i will not write fanfiction in the middle of the university food court. first tumblr post, lmk if we're rockin w it 🙂‍↕️

You’re settling into bed to unwind for the night when you get the TikTok notification.

KK Arnold has gone live!

For the better part of your day, you’ve had your nose in the books, trying to get ahead of your weekly homework. You have a terrible habit of letting most of it pile up during the week and finishing it all over the weekend. As an accounting major, you didn’t really have fun weekend plans, anyway, but it would be nice to lay in bed all day and not worry about something that was due at 11:59. You only had three classes today: managerial accounting, intro to auditing, and intermediate accounting. It wasn’t a rigorous schedule by any means; you were done and out of classes by lunchtime, but after two and a half hours of listening to your professors drone on, you were ready for the nap you couldn’t afford to take due to your piles of homework. 

Seeing the live notification is enough to remind you that you aren’t really that tired, so you click on it. KK’s face fills the screen and she’s unboxing Crumbl cookies. You say a silent prayer for the girls – Crumbl tasted terrible and that was a hill you were willing to die on. Paige sat behind KK, with Ayanna, Jana, Kayla, and a few other players milling about off-camera. For a painful few minutes, KK tries her best to get everyone’s attention so she can narrate about whatever monstrosity of a cookie they’re eating, but everyone’s laughing too hard to fully lock in.

Ayanna leaves to get a knife so KK can cut the cookies evenly. KK entertains the live while Ayanna is away, singing, chatting, and interacting with commenters. When Ayanna finally returns, she has the knife, but Azzi also trails behind her - a fact that the live is definitely appreciative of. “Oh, my God, look who it is!” KK intones in a shrill voice, much to Azzi’s clear bewilderment. You’ve never seen an expression of such confusion on someone’s face before. “It’s Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi buries her face in her hands and moves off-camera as everyone laughs. KK’s voice softens as she asks, “Azzi, wanna try a cookie?”

“No,” Azzi whines.

KK’s entire expression shifts, and admittedly, yours does, too. It’s no secret that Azzi was almost nationally known as the people’s princess. Perhaps you’d have to fight someone. You hope that no one’s actually done something wrong to her – first of all, you can’t even fathom the idea. It’d be like kicking a puppy. Second of all, you were just someone, along with 13,000 other viewers, watching the team interact behind a screen. You were sure that Azzi’s team would handle business, although you were willing to step in if needed, too, even if you stood a solid six inches shorter than Azzi herself. “What happened?” KK asks. Paige echoes her question.

“Ask the live if anyone can tutor me in accounting,” Azzi says forlornly.

You don’t think she’s serious until KK turns back just in time for the cowboy hat to return. “Hey, y’all! Is there anybody who’s really good at accounting for Azzi Fudd? Please send help. If you do have someone who’s really good at accounting, please DM me at k2times TikTok or at kamoreaarnold Instagram or at azzifudd Instagram! Thank yew.” The room dissolves into giggles as KK continues, “And if you DM me with edits or anything else but accounting help, I will block! Thank yew.”

You have the time today, so you switch over to Instagram as the live continues in the background, and you go to Azzi’s page and hit the Message option. You doubt she’ll see it, let alone respond, but as an accounting major, it’s basically your civic duty to help those in need, especially since you know these classes are hell.

hey do u actually need accounting help? i major in it!

Satisfied, you click back over to the live just in time for Azzi to comment, “KK, I might actually have a tutor,” she says in near disbelief. You think nothing of it as KK turns her head, humming at Azzi. “Wait, I think she’s in my class.”

That manages to catch your attention. Sure, you’re watching a live with a couple thousand people on it, but how many of those people are accounting students at UConn who happen to share a class with Azzi Fudd?

An Instagram notification pops up on your screen as Paige leaves the camera frame to most likely peer over Azzi’s shoulder. You’re shocked again to see Azzi has DM’ed you back.

Yes please this homework is killing me Are you in ACCT3201 with Cansler??? I recognize you

Discovering just how unobservant you are should not come as a great surprise. Apparently, you’ve been sharing a class with Azzi Fudd this entire semester and you didn’t even realize it. This is easily the most embarrassing moment of your entire life.

i am i can’t believe i didn’t know u were in it i’m a lot better at accounting than i am at paying attention, i promise

This draws a giggle from Azzi that you can hear over the live. It makes a flush rise on your cheeks. The fact that Azzi Fudd knows who you are combined with the fact she’s laughing at your jokes is enough for a feeling of anticipation to twist in your chest. This is your life now, apparently.

“Azzi is cheesing so bad,” KK teases. You can’t help but feel a little pride at that. “Who’s chatting her up right now? Lemme invite you. Accounting rizz is insane work.”

“Don’t scare away my tutor,” Azzi grumbles, coming back into view of the camera. True to KK’s words, a faint blush has settled on her cheeks. Feeling far too smug, you comment on the live, ‘calling it rizz is crazy, i’m just helping the people.’ Azzi’s eyes scan the screen before rolling slightly. “Look at what you did, KK.”

“Is that her?” KK shrieks. She leans in closer to the screen, blocking out much of the background. “Oh, she fine. Lock in, Azzi; she can help you with more than accounting.”

At that, you and Azzi both blush a deep scarlet red and Azzi turns on her heel. “Goodbye, KK!” The room dissolves into rambunctious laughter as Azzi walks out, calling, “I’m going to finish my homework!”

A moment passes before Azzi messages you again.

I’m so sorry about KK, she’s feral

You swipe away from the live again, grinning slightly. In your DMs, the typing bubbles appear for a few short moment. You heart her most recent message in the meantime.

Will you please help me? I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing wrong

Yes, you’ve spent most of the day in classes and doing homework. Yes, you’re tired. Yes, you really only joined the live to unwind. But when Azzi asks for help, you can’t really say no to her.

of course, are u working on this week’s homework set?

Her affirmative response is swift, telling you what she’s having trouble with. Your fingers hesitate on your screen, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words before settling.

i know this is incredibly forward but would u want to ft? i can explain better verbally

Azzi sends you her number. After tonight’s events, you really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but you can’t help it. Azzi is a nationally (and internationally) recognized college basketball player and, until now, you were just a girl who watched her team’s TikTok lives and cheered in the student section. Azzi had seemed so untouchable, by virtue of her celebrity and your lack thereof; it’s hard to believe you’re this close to her now, even if it’s just to help her with accounting homework.

The two of you talk well into the night, even hours after Azzi submits her problem sets successfully and she understands the material. You feel like you get to see a side of her so rarely seen by other people who aren’t her teammates. She’s softer, with a beaming smile on her face when she finally understands a difficult concept. There’s something so alluring about the way she speaks that you can’t help but listen to every single thing that comes out of her mouth, ranging from her frustrated rants to the smoothness of her giggle. The lamplight reflects off of the lenses of the glasses perched on her nose and you think she’s so incredibly beautiful – bare-faced and slightly delirious from staying up so late.

When the two of you finally hang up half past three, you can’t wipe the smile off your face, and somehow, you just know that this is the start of something new.

From then on, your friendship with Azzi all but flourishes. She’s incredibly sweet, soft-spoken, and so deliberate in the way she moves and speaks to you. When your next accounting class rolls around, she finds the seat next to yours, asking to sit there with an almost shy expression. When there’s lulls in the lecture, you entertain her with jokes, drawing red-cheeked giggles that she has to stifle. You’re almost like her personal TA, sitting next to her and clarifying concepts that she doesn’t understand. It helps you, too; the best study advice you’d ever received was to teach it to someone else. 

Your friendship progresses outside of the lecture room and outside of your texts. You both spend a lot of time in the library, studying in peace together or enjoying lunch in each other's company. You always thought Azzi was gorgeous, but now that you know her on a far more personal level, falling for her was a near guarantee. The far-away admiration transformed into something pure, genuine. You couldn’t imagine Azzi returning those feelings — she’s far too busy, too committed to ball — so you keep your rapidly growing crush close to your chest. 

You’ve always showed up to the UConn games, though there’s something distinctly different about them now. Azzi was never one for grand celebrations or trash talk in the way Paige was. She was intentional and lowkey, which is why you feel like you could float when she makes direct eye contact with you in the student section, throwing up three fingers to celebrate a particularly deep three. It’s why you cheese when she finds you after the game, after she’s showered and changed, and asks if you want to get ice cream with her. The better question was how could you refuse?

Azzi deliberates between vanilla and cookie dough for a long while before settling on the latter. Even as the clerk fills her bowl, she stares at the the vanilla and your choice of ice cream becomes obvious. Azzi stares at you as the clerk fills your bowl with vanilla. “What? It’s my favorite flavor,” you lie, and her lips quirk up as she studies you. 

“Said literally no one ever,” she says wryly. The clerk hands you the bowl and Azzi swipes her card before you have the chance to even contemplate otherwise. When you stare at her in disbelief, her smile widens and all fight leaves your body. What were you supposed to do about that? You were a puddle for pretty women — a puddle for Azzi, honestly — and your resolve should be commended for maintaining months of friendship with Azzi. 

The two of you find a secluded booth towards the back of the ice cream shop. Azzi shares her midterm grade — a solid 100, and you whistle lowly. “I got an 89,” you say, not hurt by it at all. As long as it was above an 80, you could care less. “You sure you still need me?”

Azzi swirls her ice cream around her bowl, suddenly quiet. The realization dawns on you immediately. Your words were meant to be a joke, but the truth to them stuns you. You really hoped Azzi would say, ‘of course not, it’s not like that!’ but her silence keeps you guessing. 

“I have a confession to make,” she says after a beat, finally glancing up at you. The vulnerability and nervousness makes your heart fall out of your ass. “Promise it won’t make anything weird?”

You open your mouth just to close it again. You clear your throat. “Promise, Az,” you say finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says quickly. “Um, so here’s the thing. I struggled a lot with the first problem set. You know, the one I needed the tutor for?” You nod, confused by her words. “You helped a lot. And, like, I haven’t really needed actual tutoring in weeks. I just really liked spending time with you.” You blink at her. She stares at you right back, brows furrowed with guilt and her doe eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must feel like I wasted your time.”

At that, you can’t help but laugh, and Azzi pouts. “Az. I thought you were about to dump me,” you explain. “Plus, I kinda figured after a while we were just like, studying together, and not me actually tutoring.”

She sighs, burying her face in her hands. You laugh again, pushing your leftover ice cream towards her. Azzi glances up again, her eyes soft and fond. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to stick around.”

“You never needed one,” you tell her honestly, and a blush creeps up her neck. 

“You’re not really picking up what I’m putting down, are you?”

Her words almost make you recoil. It’s no secret at this point that you can be a little oblivious, but her words make your heart skip a beat. “Az, I have no idea what you’re putting down,” you admit.

“So, I just admitted to you that I liked spending time with you and lied about needing study help just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you,” Azzi confirms. “We are sitting here, alone, after a game while my teammates celebrate at Ted’s. All of that, and you have no idea what I’m putting down?”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” you say smartly. 

“Yeah.”

“So, you like me?” you ask just to be one hundred percent sure. 

She smiles at you. You’re certain your heart almost stops beating. “How could I not?” she asks like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You make me laugh. You’re always so patient with me, you make me feel seen — like I can just be myself. It’s… hard to find something genuine like this. You don’t expect anything from me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say simply. 

Her eyes confirm everything for you. You’re not observant, sure, but your main priority has always been what was directly in front of you. And right now, it’s hard to focus on anything that’s not Azzi. Azzi’s eyes are so soft, kinder than anything you’ve ever seen before. They hold so much understanding but there’s also a silent plea of let this be mutual that you’re too happy to give into. 

“I’ve been falling for you for a while,” you admit, and her face brightens. Your shoulders feel lighter; carrying around your feelings has burdened you, but if it’s the price you had to pay to make sure Azzi felt comfortable and that she could have friendships without people taking advantage of her celebrity, then so be it. You’d bear a lot more for her if it ever came down to it. “I kept it to myself for a while,” you continued. “You deserve normal. A friendship without expectations. But, God, Az, how could anyone not fall for you?”

Azzi’s cheeks flush a pretty red. You can’t help but smile at her, growing a little braver, and you slide your hand across the table. She wastes no time before intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

She walks you home that night, refusing to let go of you until you’re halfway through your doorstep. She stops you; her height would be intimidating if you didn’t know she was the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. “Can I…” She trails off, her hands gentle on your waist. 

You don’t need much more convincing — you loop your arms around her neck and tug her down to your height, planting your lips on hers with a softness that she eagerly reciprocates. You can taste the vanilla on her lips, the sweetness of the cookie dough, and the promise of something distinctly reminiscent of Azzi Fudd. You’re suddenly thankful for KK’s stupid live, for Crumbl cookie, for the accounting class you shared together. It’s all led you to where you are now, in Azzi’s arms outside of your apartment, overcome with the knowledge that all of this is so new, but you have everything you could have possibly wanted.

(You ask her to officially be your girlfriend two weeks after that, having been on three dates since — it’s only after you pop the question and the two of you are settling in to watch a movie that she admits to you the real reason she was struggling so bad with the problem sets was because she’d spend entire lecture periods staring at you. You roll your eyes, feeling inexplicably cared for in a way you haven’t experienced before Azzi, and your only true response to her confession is the lingering kiss you place on her lips.)

[puckinghischier]

Boyfriend!Nico Headcanons

these pics are gonna get me everytime, i fear

just some soft nico thoughts floating around in my noggin. enjoy :)

-

- boyfriend!nico coming home from morning skate and tiptoeing into your room, careful not to wake you so he can lay back down and nap with you

- boyfriend!nico waking up about an hour later to an empty bed, huffing because you didn’t wake him up, only for you to walk in the room wearing one of his t-shirts carrying two cups of coffee, a grin breaking out on his face

- boyfriend!nico suggesting you both shower together, even though he showered at the rink, simply because he loves when you wash his hair (and so he can use your products so he can smell fruity like you do)

- boyfriend! nico asking girls that approach him when he’s out with the team or on the road where they get various parts of their outfits/jewelry because he can’t stop thinking about how good you’d look in them, writing every store down in his notes app so he can take you there the next time you two go shopping

- boyfriend!nico who looks for you in the stands of every home game during warm-ups, needing to know you’re there watching before puck drop because he swears you’re his good luck charm, but also looking for any and every reason to impress you when he’s on the ice

- boyfriend!nico who buys you a custom jersey with his name and number on it, but with small four leaf clovers embroidered on each sleeve so everyone knows you’re his good luck charm, not the team’s

- boyfriend!nico who enlists jack’s help in surprising you with the golden retriever puppy you’ve been begging Nico to agree to adopting, making the poor kid drive three hours one-way to pick up the dog and then sneak the puppy into your shared apartment so Nico can keep you distracted and occupied, wanting to see your face when you open the door and the little furball comes running towards you

- boyfriend!nico who rushes through every post game interview he can because all he wants to do, win or lose, is go home and watch whatever current netflix show you’ve roped him into while eating whatever take-out you were in the mood for that night

- boyfriend!nico putting you on speaker in the locker room before games because the team overheard one of the pre-game pep talks you gave him earlier in the season, so now they all like to hear your encouraging words and how well you inspire each and every one of them to play their best (what jack refers to as your mrs. cap duties)

- boyfriend!nico who has to explain to his teammates why he can’t bring you along to every event the team has to go to because you have your own job and responsibilities, only for the team to whine and grumble about how nico hogs you and they never get to see you (just for him to facetime you halfway through the event so he can pass his phone around for everyone to say hi a few of them asking you to blink three times if nico was holding you hostage)

- boyfriend!nico who arranges for flowers and various treats to be delivered to your door every. single. day. that he’s gone during the season so you know he’s still thinking about you and he misses you, even if he only leaves for a day or two

- boyfriend!nico who listens to the playlist you’ve made for him anytime he’s traveling because he loves hearing whatever new song you’ve found that day that reminds you of him

- boyfriend!nico who begs you to take a bath with him because he’s so sore from a nasty hit earlier in the night and wants to just relax with you and your peach smelling bubble bath with one of your vanilla scented candles burning (but he’ll never admit he loves your sweet, scented candles)

- boyfriend!nico who will always trade a puck or a stick for anything that a fan brings as a gift for you, heart swelling seeing that the fans love you as much as he does

- boyfriend!nico who always wears a wrist full of friendship bracelets you make for him at warmups so he can trade them with the female fans that bring handmade bracelets for the players, so “they always feel included and welcomed at the games, despite what the grumpy old men have to say about it”

[phoebefrench]

Slowly, like honey

Summary: She often heard that photography would lead her to nowhere. In retrospect, it became clear that many simply lacked the ability to recognize the beauty that surrounded them. Fortunately, she had two people in her life who truly understood and celebrated every facet of her being.

Featuring: Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Google translate used for the french and dutch

All Y/N wanted to do when she got back to Max's apartment was curl up in bed and take the world's longest nap. It all started when she woke this morning an hour past her alarm, her boyfriends already gone, and she spilt coffee all over herself while rushing into her digital photography class. Walking through the front door, she was greeted by the sound of cooking in the kitchen and light talking. She slowly walked to the kitchen, stopping to pet Sassy and continuing on. Before making it all the way, arms wrapped behind her slightly scaring her as she was suddenly turned around. Closing her eyes and catching the scent of her boyfriend, she relaxed into his arms. "Hi Char," she mumbled. Slowly letting go, he responded "Mon chéri, how was your day?" She sighed, the day hitting her like a truck as tears starting welling in her eyes faster than she could stop them. His eyes tracked her face quickly, trying to figure out what was wrong, "Chéri, what happened, what's wrong?" Max, hearing the slight commotion and the suddenly worsening tears turned sobs, rushed out. He quickly walked to the two of them, taking her into his arms, "Schatje, come here. What's wrong, hmm?" She buries her head into his chest and just lets it all out, "It's so silly, everything that could have went wrong today went wrong. I slept passed my alarm after you both left, I spilt my coffee all down the front of my shirt, and on the way home I realized I left my portfolio at my desk in class." Max and Charles shared a look over her head and started silently figuring out how they could fix this. Charles starts by moving them to the kitchen, “how about we eat dinner and move onto the living room for a movie, hmm?“ Nodding she sits down, allowing them to dish the pasta Max had made, smiling slightly when they sat down as a bowl was put in front of her. They ate dinner silently, with both boys giving her some time to process her day without overwhelming her. Moving onto the couch, Max to her right and Charles directly to the left, both holding her tightly to them does she finally start to calm down. “How was your guys day?” She asked looking up at them both. Charles looked down and grinned, “Just another media day, mon cheri.” Max hummed in agreement, adding “It was an endless amount of people asking of us the same things,” he continued “did you get to work more on your project?” “Yes, I’ve finally figured out a location for the shoot and I’m excited to actually start shooting next week!” She responded, perking up at the fact that she was another day closer to presenting this project and have everyone see what she has been working hard on. Max and Charles both smiled, satisfied with the fact that their girlfriend seemed to being cheering up, and that they would soon see the gallery that their talented Y/N has been working hard on. “I can’t wait to see them, you have to tell us the date so we can make sure to be there,” Max stated. Charles nodded his head in agreement, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She nodded, her eyes slowly closing as the movie in the background got quieter, “You both are the best thing to ever happen to me” while snuggling down deeper into them. Max and Charles looked at each other, smiles shared as they responded, “Us too, love.” Just this moment was enough to completely erase all the small things that had piled up throughout her day as she thought about how lucky she was to have these amazing boys both with her as she slowly fell asleep.

———————————————————————————

This is my first time ever publishing fanfiction! Please let me know any suggestions, but please be nice!

I will take requests!

Should I make this a series?

[kairawrites]

love & basketball.

🌺masterlist🌺

pairing: aurélien tchouaméni x reader

summary: It's 95 degrees in LA, but your boyfriend's never really needed a reason to take his shirt off.

You stood at the three-point line, body still heavy with sleep. The warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the court.

After the day at the beach with friends, everyone dispersed for showers before settling into their rooms to relax, nap, or watch movies.

The sight of you in your bikini drove Aurélien crazy all morning. He’d found every excuse to touch you—rubbing sunscreen into your skin, his hands lingering a little too long on your waist, your shoulders.

By the time you all finally made it back to the rental, he was at his limit. The moment your feet touched the surface of the top floor, he'd lifted you off the ground, carrying you straight to the bed.

Now, you wore his shirt, the one he’d abandoned on the floor just a few hours prior, tugging it off in a frenzy as his hands and mouth had been more preoccupied with untying your bikini.

The shirt hung loosely on you, the fabric brushing against your thighs as Aurélien approached, a basketball in hand. You’d woken to find him already up, the sun lower in the sky, casting a golden hue across the court. The remnants of the day lingered on your skin—the warmth of the sun, the salt of the ocean, and the feel of his touch still fresh in your memory.

Aurélien had been on the court, the one piece of the property that finalized his decision. He'd used it nearly every day during your two week stay.

"Alright, let’s see what you’ve got," he teased, his hands pressing the basketball into your arms.

You groaned softly, still not fully awake. "I’m not sure I’ve got anything right now," you muttered, shifting the ball between your hands. "How are you not tired?"

He chuckled, stepping closer until his chest was flush against your back. His hands slid over your arms, guiding them into position. "This your way of saying I wore you out---"

Aurélien's laughter rang free, echoing across the yard as you threw a playful jab back to his ribs. It was a sound that brought a smile to your lips.

"I think it was the sun that did that," you giggle, relaxing against him as he pressed a kiss against your neck.

"...yeah, okay..." His voice comes out muffled against your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist. Giving you a gentle squeeze, he leaves a final kiss against your skin.

"Okay, what's this grand advice I'm supposed to be getting?" You sigh, still trying to figure out how you've ended up here.

You had no intention of playing basketball when you'd gone searching for your boyfriend. Yet somehow, here you are.

"First, you need to relax," he said, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Don’t think too much about it—just feel it."

You couldn’t help but smile at his serious tone, feeling the heat of his body behind you. "Feel it, huh?" you teased lightly pressing your body back into his. The moment you did, you capitalized on the opportunity, your hips grinding back.

Aurélien's breath hitched, his fingers pressing into the dips of your hips.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be?" He murmured, voice a mixture of amusement and surprise.

"I'm a hands on learner," you giggled, the teasing of your boyfriend has always proved to be your favorite task.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Aurélien grinned, his hands moving to adjust your stance, gently nudging your feet into the correct position. "First, your feet—shoulder-width apart. Good. Now bend your knees a little. It’s all about balance." His hands lingered on your waist, guiding your hips into alignment with the basket.

You followed his instructions, but your mind was more on the way his fingers traced small circles on your hips than on the basketball in your hands. "Like this?" you asked, trying to focus.

"Perfect," he whispered, his voice dropping a notch as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck. The only problem with teasing your boyfriend, he's just as good. The soft kiss he leaves against your skin temporarily pulls your eyes from the hoop. You catch sight of his playful brown eyes before he's nodding forward. "Now, keep your eyes on the hoop. Imagine the ball going in. It’s all about the follow-through."

He brought his hands up to your arms again, guiding your elbows into the right angle, his chest pressing against your back, offering steady support. "When you release, let your wrist snap forward, like this." His hand covered yours, demonstrating the motion.

You nodded, trying to concentrate, but the closeness of his body and the warmth of his breath on your skin made it nearly impossible. You took a deep breath, finally locking your gaze on the hoop.

“Go ahead,” he urged, his voice soft and encouraging. “Just let it fly.”

You exhaled slowly, then pushed off your back foot, releasing the ball in a smooth arc. It bounced off the rim, missing the shot. You groaned in frustration, your shoulders slumping.

Aurélien chuckled, jogging after the ball. "Not bad for a first try. Just a little more follow-through, and you’ll have it."

He stopped alongside you, eyes briefly meeting yours before smiling.

Aurélien dribbled the ball a few times, the rhythmic sound echoing through the quiet court. His movements were fluid, each bounce perfectly controlled, his focus sharp. With a quick, confident glance at the hoop, he planted his feet.

With an easy flick of his wrist, he sent the ball arcing through the air. The shot seemed effortless, almost casual, but there was an unmistakable precision in the way he released it. The ball soared, spinning in a perfect backspin, before dropping cleanly through the net with a satisfying *swish*.

Aurélien landed lightly on his feet, a small, self-assured smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned to look at you, the pride in his eyes evident.

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite your attempt to feign annoyance. "Show-off," you teased, though you couldn’t help but be impressed by how effortless he made it look.

Aurélien retrieved the ball with the same easy grace, dribbling it back toward you. "I couldn't resist," he replied, his tone light and teasing, but there was a glint in his eyes that showed he was enjoying every moment of impressing you.

"Always showing out for a pretty girl?" you asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

He stopped just in front of you, holding the ball casually at his side. "Only for you." The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. "Well, I’m not that easy to impress, you know," you teased, though your smile gave away the truth.

Aurélien leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Guess I'll just have to keep trying then," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, before stepping back.

His eyes passed over the shirt you wore.

It was one of his favorites, but not because of its design or any sentimental attachment to where he bought it. It was simple—black with faded lettering and a worn texture from too many washes. The Kobe Bryant photo emblazoned across the front was cracked, showing signs of its age. On him, it fit snugly across his chest and shoulders, a staple of his casual wardrobe, something he threw on without much thought. But on you, it was different.

The shirt had become his favorite for one reason alone: the way it looked on you.

He loved how the sleeves slipped past your elbows, the neckline dipping just enough to tease a glimpse of your collarbone. It hung loose, brushing your thighs, leaving just enough to the imagination. The first time he saw you wearing it, fresh out of the shower, he’d almost forgotten what he was doing. You weren’t trying to impress him—just looking for something comfortable—but seeing you in his clothes had done something to him.

Then there were the lazy mornings after long nights, when you’d pad barefoot around the kitchen in nothing but that shirt, making coffee while he watched, pretending to care about the cup in his hand when really all his focus was on you. Or the times you’d steal it after a day at the beach, the sun warming your skin as the fabric stuck to your damp body. Every time, it was a reminder that something of his had become yours, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was as if it had been made for moments like this, when it was just the two of you, laughing, playing, and challenging each other.

“So that’s where my shirt went.” His voice was light, but there was a hint of playful accusation in it.

You glanced down at yourself and smiled, tugging at the oversized fabric. “I woke up to find you gone. Figured I’d claim it since you weren’t around to stop me.”

Aurélien took a step closer, his gaze dropping to the shirt that swallowed your frame. “I don’t know… looks better on me, don’t you think?” he teased, reaching out to playfully tug at the hem.

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, looks like it fits me just fine. But if you’re that pressed about getting it back, we could always settle it here.”

His grin widened, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Alright,” he replied, his tone a challenge. “Let’s see who deserves to keep it.”

At first, you thought he was joking. After all, it was just a shirt, right? But then Aurélien’s serious expression told you otherwise. He wasn’t backing down. He wanted to play for it.

"Wait, you’re actually serious?" you asked, raising a brow.

Aurélien crossed his arms, the challenge clear in his posture. "I don’t play around when it comes to my favorite shirt. One-on-one. Winner keeps it."

You blinked, a mix of surprise and excitement bubbling up in you. “What are the rules?"

Aurélien stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with that playful intensity he always had when he was about to make things competitive. He folded his arms across his chest, the smirk on his face widening as he considered how to outline the rules for this little challenge.

“Alright,” he began, taking the ball from you with a smooth flick of his wrist. “We’re keeping it simple. We’ll play Horse—take turns shooting. You miss, you get a letter. First one to spell ‘Horse’ loses.” He paused, letting the words hang for a moment as he casually dribbled the ball, the rhythmic bounce filling the air between you.

“Except,” he continued, stepping closer, “we’ll add a little twist.” His voice dropped, low and teasing. “Every time you get a letter…you lose a piece of clothing.” His grin turned wicked, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation as if daring you to react.

You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms in response. “And what about you? You lose clothing, too, right?”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously, though the sparkle in his eyes said he was fully enjoying himself. “I’m nothing if not fair.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as I can be,” he replied with a wink, tapping the ball against your hip. “So, what do you say? Think you can handle it?”

“I’m game. But don’t think I’m letting you win your shirt back that easily.”

Aurélien stepped closer, holding out his hand with his pinky extended, his eyes locked onto yours with a familiar look of seriousness mixed with playfulness. It was your tradition—one that had started almost as a joke but became a ritual whenever something important was on the line.

You smiled softly, already feeling the warmth of the moment as you curled your pinky around his, the soft press of his skin against yours a silent promise.

“No backing out now,” you teased, your voice light but full of trust.

Aurélien’s lips curved into a grin, his eyes softening. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

Then, as always, he sealed the pinky promise with a kiss. His lips gently brushed the spot where your fingers linked, lingering just long enough to send a familiar flutter through your chest. It was tender, intimate in a way that went beyond the playful challenge you had set. It was your thing, a small act of affection that held more weight than any words.

He looked back up at you, his smile deepening. “Now it’s official,” he murmured.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling that warmth spread through you. “Now it’s official.”

"First shot," Aurélien grinned, dribbling the ball with confidence just outside the three-point line. "Let's see how long you can keep that shirt on."

With a smooth motion, he released the ball, the arc perfect as it sailed toward the hoop. You could already tell it was going in, and sure enough, it swished cleanly through the net.

He let out a low whistle, clearly satisfied with himself as he jogged to retrieve the ball. Stopping just a few steps from you, he left a playful distance between you, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

Bouncing the ball to you, Aurélien tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Square up, baby girl."

"First shot and you’re already losing," Aurélien teased, bouncing the ball a few times as he stood at the three-point line. "Might as well surrender that shirt now because I’m just getting started."

You rolled your eyes, accepting the ball from him with a smirk. "Don't get ahead of yourself," you muttered, lining up your shot. Taking a deep breath, you focused and released the ball. But it clanged off the rim, missing the hoop entirely.

The sound of your miss was met with a look of pure triumph on Aurélien's face. His grin stretched wider, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he jogged over to retrieve the ball.

Hands on your hips, you watched him with a knowing look, already bracing yourself for the inevitable teasing. He stopped in front of you, grinning from ear to ear.

"That’s an H," he declared with a triumphant laugh. "You know the rules—I’m gonna need a piece of clothing."

His gaze lingered on the shirt you were wearing, clearly hoping to get it back. But instead of giving in, you bent down, slipping off your sneakers before tugging off your right sock. Holding it up with a smug smile, you raised an eyebrow.

Aurélien’s eyes widened in mock surprise before he let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "A sock? Really? You’re going with that?"

"It counts," you replied with a shrug, still grinning.

He chuckled, eyeing the single sock dangling from your hand. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you get away with it... for now." His playful tone lingered as he dribbled the ball once more. "Next shot?"

Deciding to play it smart, you took a few steps closer to the hoop, lining up your shot from the free throw line instead. With a smooth flick of your wrist, the ball sailed through the air and swished into the net without even touching the rim. You let out a small cheer, throwing your arms up in victory.

Aurélien arched a brow, clearly amused by your choice to move closer, but smiled as he grabbed the ball. "Taking the easy way out, huh?" he teased, walking over to the same spot. "Alright, let’s see if I can match that."

But just as he lined up his shot, you decided to up the ante. With a mischievous grin, you moved closer, playfully pressing up against him with your arms raised in a mock attempt to block him. The suddenness of it threw him off balance, and with you giggling right against him, his concentration wavered. He released the ball, but it wobbled, hit the rim, and bounc3d right out.

You burst into laughter, your hands lightly pressing against his chest. "That’s an H, baby!" you teased, fingers playfully tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Aurélien shook his head, biting back a grin. "I didn’t realize we were getting this kind of competitive," he said, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

You shrugged, flashing him a playful wink. "No excuses, Auré," you replied, still giggling. "Apparently my boyfriend’s good at every sport on the planet. I gotta level the playing field somehow!"

He smiled down at you, shaking his head.

Without hesitation, he tugged his shirt over his head in one smooth, practiced motion, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and arms. The fabric dropped to the ground with a dramatic flourish, as if he were performing for an audience of one—just you.

"Of course, you’d take off the shirt first," you giggled, but your voice faltered as your gaze lingered on him. The way the sun bathed his skin in a golden light, highlighting the sharp contours of his chest and the hard lines of his arms, made it almost impossible to look away. His skin glistened slightly under the warm sun, every flex and movement drawing your attention like a magnet.

You couldn't deny it—Aurélien was a sight to behold. The playful remark you'd been ready to toss at him faded from your lips as you became momentarily lost in the view, appreciating just how every inch of him seemed to come alive under the sun’s caress.

His smile only widened, a knowing smirk creeping across his face as he caught you staring. The corners of his eyes crinkled in that familiar, boyish way that always made your heart skip.

"You gonna be able to stay focused?" he teased. The challenge was clear in his tone, and the way his eyes held yours said he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

Before you could respond, he dribbled the ball to the three-point line, still grinning like he had the game already won. He lined up his shot with smooth, practiced ease, his movements deliberate and confident. The ball sailed through the air, and with a perfect swish, it dropped cleanly through the hoop.

Aurélien turned to you, his grin only growing wider. "I hope you’re ready to keep up," he said, a playful glint still in his eyes.

"You picking threes is totally unfair," you said, hands on your hips as you watched him retrieve the ball.

Aurélien smirked, tossing the ball casually from hand to hand. "It’s not in the rules," he shrugged, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

"Add it, then," you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, grinning wider. "Too late for that. You should’ve thought of it sooner."

You couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to him. "Think I can change your mind?"

Aurélien’s brow arched with interest, his smirk never faltering. "I think a kiss might be good motivation."

With a giggle, you leaned in and kissed him quickly, just a light brush of your lips against his before pulling back. His grin faltered for a split second, then he pouted, shaking his head. "That doesn’t count."

"Should've specified the type of kiss," you tease.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but your focus returned to the game as you took a deep breath, lined up your shot from the same spot, and let the ball fly. This time, it sailed well over the rim and landed with a dull thud.

You sighed, knowing what was coming next. With a dramatic flair, you bent down, tugging off your second sock and holding it up in mock surrender.

Aurélien watched, clearly amused. "Cute, but I think you’re going to need to step up your game," he teased, still bouncing the ball with ease.

Mentally noting that you now had an H and an O, you decided to go for a layup. Moving closer to the hoop, you prepared to make your shot, but Aurelien positioned himself to guard you just as you had guarded him. He stuck to you like glue, becoming your personal shadow.

As you approached the basket, his hand settled on your hip, his touch warm and distracting. His close presence caused a moment of hesitation, and your shot missed its mark, bouncing off the backboard and rolling away.

You sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, you rolled your eyes. With a small shake of your head, you tugged your shorts down, stepping out of them with as much grace as you could muster.

"Looks like things are getting interesting." He chuckled, jogging to retrieve the ball "You could still back out what is that? An R?."

You watched Aurélien with a smirk as he dribbled, effortlessly moving the ball between his legs and around his back, his grin widening with each trick. "You’re getting too cocky," you teased, shaking your head at his showmanship.

"Too cocky?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in challenge as he spun the ball on his finger. "Or just confident?"

"Let’s see how confident you are when I take the ball," you shot back, stepping closer with a determined glint in your eyes.

As Aurélien continued dribbling, you positioned yourself in front of him, fully intent on making it difficult for him to get past. Your arms stretched out, feet firmly planted, you mirrored his every move with laser focus.

He tried to fake you out with a quick move to the left, but you were right there, blocking his path. He shifted to the right, but you followed him step for step, your defense unwavering.

"You’re really not going to make this easy for me, are you?" he asked, his voice filled with playful frustration, even as his grin grew wider.

"Not a chance," you replied.

You positioned yourself to guard Aurélien, your hand pressing lightly against him as he dribbled. His movements were too easy to match. The realization that he was taking it easy on you made you giggle, but your laughter and smile seemed to fuel his playful energy. With a smirk, Aurélien pulled back, his movements throwing you off balance. Stepping around you, he went in for the layup. The ball rolled around the rim before bouncing to the ground.

Before he could react, you snatched the ball and burst into laughter at the surprised and amused expression on his face.

Aurélien scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Well, I guess I had that coming," he admitted, still chuckling as he straightened up.

"Yeah, you kinda did."

You stopped just in front of him, the ball resting on your hip as you grinned up at Aurélien, his expression a mix of amusement and resignation. He shook his head, hands finding their place on his hips.

Smiling, you let your hand find its way to his skin, your fingers gently tracing the defined lines of his abs. You felt the subtle catch in his breath as your touch lingered lower, his reaction unmistakable. Your eyes locked with his, a playful glint in them as you teased. "Looks like it's your turn to strip. Want me to help decide what goes next?"

Aurélien’s gaze darkened slightly with the challenge, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you want," he chuckled. His hand covered yours, guiding it to the waistband of his shorts. With one last look into your eyes, he pushed them down, the fabric pooling around his ankles.

As he stepped out of them, his smile widened at the clear lingering of your gaze. "Satisfied?" he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, stepping back just a little to take in the sight of him. "For now," you replied, grinning as you tossed the ball to him.

Aurélien’s eyes met yours, and you knew exactly what he was planning before he even took a step. Standing there in nothing but his socks and briefs, he was still determined to put up a fight. You couldn't help but smile as you called out his name, a playful warning in your tone.

He shrugged casually, flashing you that mischievous grin that always made your heart skip. "All’s fair in love and basketball," he said, walking back to the three-point line. Without hesitation, he lined up his shot and let the ball fly.

You turned just in time to watch it sink perfectly through the hoop, barely making a sound. Typical.

When you turned back to him, Aurélien was grinning, and not just any grin—the kind that reached his eyes, pure satisfaction glowing in every line of his face. You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "You’re way too competitive, you know that?"

His smile softened. "Didn’t you say that’s what you like about me?"

He wasn’t wrong. The same competitive streak that made him relentless on the basketball court or in any game was what transformed him on the pitch. It was something you admired deeply—how your caring, charming, boyish man could shift into a confident, unstoppable force when in the zone. The look in his eyes when he was running high on adrenaline did something to you. It was a look you loved, the fire behind it undeniable.

Aurélien stepped closer, his hands grazing your leg before settling warmly on your hip. "So, what’s it gonna be?" he asked, his voice low, the challenge clear. "Surrender? Or are you gonna shoot the three?"

You pretended to think about it, your eyes narrowing in playful concentration. "I could make it," you teased, grinning.

He chuckled, shaking his head as his hand gave a gentle squeeze on your hip. "I’m not doubting that, but it’s not gonna stop the inevitable."

"The inevitable?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Me winning," he said with a smirk, lifting the hem of your shirt just slightly as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck.

Your eyes rolled, but a contented sigh escaped your lips as your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. The heat of his kiss lingered on your skin, and before you knew it, he had lifted you off the ground with ease, his strength evident as you laughed, your legs dangling playfully in the air.

"Aurélien!" you giggled, holding onto him tighter, though you had no intention of letting go.

"Might as well take this inside," he chuckled. "You owe me a shirt."

[wileys-russo]

stuck with me II k.cooney cross x reader

stuck with me II k.cooney cross x reader

"-so i said we would babysit for a few hours." kyra shrugged, dropping two bags onto your bed as you raised an eyebrow. "you mean i'll babysit. when the kids are around you are not the responsible adult in the situation ky." you raised an eyebrow as your girlfriend pulled a face and kissed your cheek.

"don't act like you wouldn't have said yes in a heartbeat. everyone knows you're harleys favorite anyway!" kyra cheesed hitting you where she knew would work, your ego. "can't argue with the facts. what's in the bags?" you sighed and questioned with narrowed eyes as kyra clapped happily.

"i know its not december yet but i thought since we're as close as we'll ever get to being in the snow for christmas and its the last camp for the year we could-" the girl jumped onto the bed and rifled through the bags. "-build gingerbread houses and make ornaments!" she pulled out the boxes with a gleeful grin and you melted at her obvious delight.

"where did you even get these?" you laughed, picking up one of the diy bauble kits and reading through. "kyra! this very clearly says ages 10 and up, harper and harley are not 10!" you warned, eyebrows furrowing at the toxic warning for the glue.

"it's fine babe! we'll be supervising and doing it with them the entire time." kyra waved off your worries, moving onto her knees and knocking the box from your grip, hands pawing at your hoodie.

"baby!" you laughed as she yanked you down onto the bed and hovered over you with a grin, attacking your face with kisses. "now say; thank you kyra. you are so smart kyra, what a great idea kyra!" she demanded cheekily between kisses.

"like the sound of your own name do you cooney cross?" you teased, grabbing the back of her neck and guiding her lips to meet your own, smiling happily at the waves of pleasure which washed over you at the feeling of her soft lips moving against yours.

but the moment was cut short as rapid knocks sounded, all too familiar voices crying out for the door to open as you gently pushed your girlfriend off of you, pecking her pouty lips a few times and watching her face light up as you promised to resume what you started later on.

you'd not even opened the door more than a few centimeters before two tiny bodies barreled inside, darting through your legs with gleeful cheers as kyra dropped down to the floor to grab both young girls in a bear hug.

"thank you for this." katrina sighed gratefully pulling you into a hug, having been called into an unexpected zoom meeting with some perspective new clubs for the afternoon.

"neither of them have napped so they should hopefully crash within the hour." tameka added on, down for press conference duty with tony this afternoon. "please, like ky will let them sleep." you chuckled, the midfielder calling out hello's to both older women who smiled seeing her spinning around both harley and harper in her arms.

"call us if anything happens yeah?" katrina warned as you nodded, promising you would and taking the girls backpacks from tameka as you waved them off, both their daughters yelling out goodbye before the door closed and they were gone.

"and where's my hug?" you gasped, crossing your arms feigning annoyance as both girls tried to scramble for you, kyra trapping harper in her arms as harley leapt her small body off the bed causing you to scramble to catch her.

"i'm like a superhero!" the three year old grinned as you twirled her round, blowing a raspberry to her cheek. "let her go!" you laughed at your girlfriend as harper wiggled and whined in her grip.

"what are we doing today?" harley asked eagerly, jumping up and down on the bed once you placed her back down, scooping up harper and flinging her up and into the air, catching her as the girl giggled.

"well. aunty ky has some cool activities for us to do, but only if you're on your best behavior." you warned with a smile, both girls yelling that they were good over and over as kyra moved to grab the bags. "okay okay! we get it, you're good girls." you laughed, taking harleys outstretched hands and swinging her around like you knew she wanted.

"okay!" kyra clapped for everyones attention as you took a seat on the bed, harley scrambling to sit on your lap as harper tucked herself into your side, making you grin as her little head wedged its way under your arm.

"we're gonna make...." kyra trailed off, drumming her hands on the nightstand as the suspense built. "gingerbread houses!" she yelled happily, causing you to wince as the two girls beside you screeched in delight.

"ky, i really don't think its a good idea to let them eat so much." you warned, harley sat on your lap as harper sat on hers, both of you tucked up against the desk in the corner building your respective gingerbread houses.

you'd watched with a sigh as kyra would every now and then allow both girls to consume a lolly, which eventually escalated into her giving them permission to eat whatever they wanted so long as they left some to decorate with.

"why? it's fine!" your girlfriend waved it off, moving to help harper glue a few candy canes to the roof of their house. polar opposite to theirs, harley had wanted a much more organised look, taking her time to make sure it was neat and tidy which made you smile.

"because kyra, what goes in must come out!" you warned, already starting to see harper perk up a little more. "what? they won't throw up they're little but they're not babies." kyra scoffed with a roll of her eyes, whining as you reached over to sharply pinch her thigh.

"hey! mummy says no pinching." harper piped out with a scowl in your direction as kyra stuck her tongue out at you, dismissing your worries and returning to helping harper as harley bounced in your lap demanding your attention.

turns out, you were of course correct.

"woah woah! where did you get these?" your eyes widened as you scooped up harley and grabbed a pair of craft scissors out of her hand. "found em." the girl beamed, wiggling to be put down as you tucked her under your arm.

"kyra that is a terrible idea." you warned sternly as the midfielder pulled out the ornament making kit.

"no its not it'll give them something to do with their energy." the brunette huffed, practically pinning harper down who was doing her best impression of a lion, teeth nashing and trying to bite the older girl.

"harps no biting!" you groaned, adjusting harley under your arm who was furiously trying to get away. "see what you did!" you scowled at your girlfriend in annoyance, putting harley down and grabbing harper.

"three minutes for biting." you warned, sitting her down in a chair facing the wall. "harper." you repeated in a serious tone as she tried to get up, the toddler sitting back down and crossing her arms frowning adorably.

"kyra!" you whined seeing her setting harley up with a bauble and a glue gun. "you got any better ideas babe?" the girl raised an eyebrow challengingly. "nap time?" you sighed, wincing as two very loud protests were yelled back at you.

"not on the bed." you grabbed harley under her arms and swung her into a chair as kyra moved beside her. "done now?" harper peeked over the top of her own chair as you sighed again. "done biting?" you questioned with crossed arms as harper nodded.

"go on." you gestured for her to get up as she ran over to kyra, climbing up into her lap as you stepped out to go to the bathroom and clear your head, the christmas music kyra insisted on blasting from her phone not helping the chaos.

"see babe? piece of cake!" kyra chirped quietly, nudging her shoulder into yours as the two of you stared down at the pair of sleeping girls in bed. "they're covered in glitter." you sighed running a hand through your hair with a shake of your head.

"occupational hazard, it washes off." kyra dismissed your concerns with a wave. "come on baby. we did good! no one got hurt, nothing got broken, they're safe and fast asleep." kyra pressed a kiss to your cheek as you rolled your eyes.

"high five for top babysitters!" kyra murmured happily, holding up her hand and wiggling her eyebrows. "you are such a child sometimes." you sighed but smacked your hand into hers none the less.

but when you tried to pull away, alarm bells sounded.

"kyra. why is your hand stuck to mine?" you asked calmly, your girlfriend shrinking a little at the question.

"please tell me you washed the glue off." you spoke again, the brunette avoiding your eyes as you pinched the bridge of your nose with your free hand.

before you could say another word there was gentle knocks at the door, your girlfriend hissing a little in pain as you yanked her toward it by your conjoined hands. "hope they weren't any trouble?" katrina smiled, her and tameka moving inside as you and kyra backed off.

"no trouble! never trouble." kyra replied nervously, katrina instantly picking up on the shift in tone, shooting the younger girl a weird look over her shoulder as she picked up a still sleeping harper.

"do some arts and crafts did we?" tameka laughed at the glitter all over harley who stirred. "we'll drop the baubles off once they dry." you smiled nodding to the desk where they sat among a pile of glitter. "they're so cute." tameka grinned, kyra having done her best to help them both write their names.

"really cute." katrina echoed, though her tone conveyed suspicion as you and kyra did your best to hide your conjoined hands. "well we have to shower and get ready for dinner!" you smiled nodding toward the door, tameka thanking you both and promising she owed you one before leaving.

"you right min?" kyra smiled nervously as the shorter woman stared you both down. "fine. what are you two hiding?" she adjusted harper in her arms, eyes narrowing again as you both rambled out nothing. "its my fault." kyra blurted out as you glared and rammed your elbow into her side.

"ky shut up!" "what is your fault?"

"babe!" you groaned as kyra held up your stuck together hands. "i don't get it." katrina frowned on confusion. "they're stuck together. i had glue on my hands and i didn't wash it off and then we high fived and-" her nervous ramblings were cut off by the laughter from the woman in front of you.

"oh my you two are unbelievable. good luck! see you at dinner." with that she quickly left the room, ignoring the two of you calling after her for help.

your girlfriend withered at the glare you fixed her with, the two of you taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "where did you get the kits from?" you asked firmly, your girlfriend stuttering out an answer as you grabbed her phone and did a quick google, which proved to be incredibly challenging with one hand.

punching in the number you dialed the store kyra snuck out to you quickly explained what happened to the manager who assured there was a dissolvent they could order in to arrive tomorrow morning, the canadian clearly unable to hold back his amusement as you thanked him and hung up.

thankfully the game was not until the weekend as you explained the situation to kyra, the blunt tone of your voice meaning she knew exactly how pissed off with her you were.

"baby." you turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "what?"

"there's no one i'd rather be stuck with than you?"

[thebearer]

Picture this: Carmy taking extra weeks off when Willow is born compared to when Teddy was born (I get the feeling he off for like, ten days and he was CRAWLING UP THE WALLS with the need to be back in the kitchen controlling things) to avoid that shitty dad feeling. Especially because the two of you have to look after Teddy AND new baby Willow. And he's realized you and the kids are more important than the restaurant 100% ❤️

with teddy he took a week and a half off (was supposed to be two but he ended up going back in early bc he’s a control freak). and really, it wasn’t much of a break. the first few days, yes, then he’s calling or people were calling him.

“i just gotta take this for a second.” and it would be a two hour ordeal of him trying to call, order, then call sydney or sugar or richie.

then he starts going in, just for a second. getting things from the office that he left. he was never gone long, he knew better and they’d practically kick him out of the kitchen, but he could not stay away. needed to see with his own eyes that everything was good, worried constantly that it wasn’t and it was falling down around him.

truthfully, by the time he went back, you were glad he was gone bc he was stressing you out. I don’t think he did a full dinner service until two weeks and even then, he only stayed for a little bit. just to greet who he needed to if there was a kitchen tour, or talk to critics, do a few things and he was home honestly before it was closed. very much so a control freak who wore himself so thin, thus causing the absolute break that he had in the devastation fics.

so when willow comes around, he’s much more relaxed. maybe not all the way, but he trusts that richie and sydney and everyone can run it without him. he has more trust, less need for control, and genuinely is kinda excited in a way to be away from the restaurant.

i think he’d take two weeks fully no contact (unless it was an emergency) but then after that he’d come in once a week just to do office things, just when they needed him, would bring teddy to get her out of the house and let you and willow sleep. kinda handle two things situation. it’s more of a gradual thing. he lets sydney honestly call whatever the schedule is based around her.

i mentioned in a baby making blurb (which i think I’m going to turn into a full smut fic lol) that he wanted to plan this time. didn’t want to be careless, wanted to plan the pregnancy so it wasn’t rushed like teddy’s was. and he did just that.

he made sure to plan his schedule so he wouldn’t get overworked or burnt out like last time. he really thought of ways that he could be home, be with you and the girls, but not abandon everyone at work. hired some extra chefs he trusted that he knew from noma or somewhere, just people he trusted, and found a way to makeup for the slack so there would be no more pressure.

does his office things at home (ordering, scheduling, pay roll) during willow and teddy’s nap time. usually had baby willow with him in his office bc she’s chill. he likes to see her, she’s quiet and sleeps better with company, and it lets you be able to sleep without worrying about getting up bc he’s got it. especially if he’s going to be working dinner shift that night and he knows you’ll have to be up.

if he and sydney are meeting up for menu concept brainstorming or tastings or something, he’ll bring teddy, sometimes you and willow along too. it gets you out of the house, if you want to, you get to socialize, taste food, and he can get stuff done. they both like your opinions, so it’s kinda a win.

just things he didn’t do before. before with teddy, carmen was dead set on keeping them separate. in his mind, those worlds couldn’t collide. he couldn’t bring work home bc he thought you’d be upset, and he couldn��t bring you there into the chaos with a baby, so he just overwhelmed himself and exhausted himself trying to make it work.

with willow (carm’s also been to therapy lol), he learned a balance. that they can overlap, to try and ask others instead of guessing and making assumptions, really just how to balance better.

[rambosgirl]

Logan x hypersomniac reader headcanons

you guys this is literally just insomniac x hypersomniac, but I realized when I was finished writing this ;-;

also, I imagined the original trilogy Logan for this, but if you want to use your imagination ig it could be a different Logan

Masterlist

First of all, Charles is super nice to you and gives you a rest period in your teaching schedule so you can use it to nap

Your students are also very nice if you happen to fall asleep in class, which doesn't happen often but has a few times.

Jean is super supportive and will help you try to find solutions when your doctors can't help you

So pretty much everyone knows (how could they not when you literally fall asleep at meals?) but you don't mind people knowing

especially when they're this supportive

So when Logan first came to the mansion, you were in the middle of a nap so you had no clue who he was when you finally met him after you woke up

Logan was clueless to your condition, I guess no one told him

As he got to know you better, he started to notice some things about you

like how you would disappear for hours at a time and then resurface like nothing happened

he also noticed you yawned a LOT but didn't piece the two together for a while

He would ask around but everyone says they haven't seen you

When he asks you about it you tell him everything - your struggle to wake up and stay awake, the naps, and even the other effects that come with it like memory problems and trouble concentrating.

Logan's just like :0 How did I not figure that out before?? it all makes sense now

He's SO SUPPORTIVE

He'll remind you about the things you have trouble remembering, and he'll make sure you're taking care of yourself between naps

he'll never admit he's gone soft for you teehee

but it's obvious to everyone else

he still gets moody sometimes, but less around you, and he'd NEVER take it out on you (he takes it out on Scott lol)

you joke about him needing a nap more than you when he's especially grumpy

sometimes you'll sleep way later than you meant to, like waking up at 10pm, and he'll stay up with you

you guys will just be talking in the kitchen until you start to feel tired again

y'all make snacks for your late-night chats

he tries to make sure you're awake from late afternoon naps at a good time (like before 7ish) so that you don't mess up your sleep schedule too bad

he gets to know your schedule, even if you don't stick to it as often as you'd like, he tries to help you stay on it

AND GUYS

if you spontaneously fall asleep somewhere you're not supposed to, Logan will CARRY YOU to your bed and tuck you in (I'm MELTING)

You feel safe around Logan, making it easy to doze off around him

he often finds himself in situations where you're resting your head on him, fast asleep

he'll stay there for a while, and if you don't wake up soon, he'll carry you to bed

Sometimes he watches you sleep

Not in a creepy way (he tells himself) but he loves seeing you so peaceful, the worry melting off you

Jean tells him it looks creepy and he should probably stop before you wake up

Sometimes you get overwhelmed with your feelings about your hypersomnia, and Logan is there to listen and quietly comfort you.

You feel like you're sleeping through your life, like you're not truly living to the fullest potential you can

You also get so frustrated about the lack of answers you have for why you need so much sleep and the constant fogginess of your mind and memory

Logan is here for it all

he might not be the best at openly showing affection and support, but there is no doubt that he cares about you and will do anything for you.

He prefers actions over words, which becomes obvious in the way he treats you and takes care of you

That's all I have for now babes, hope you liked it (again, if you want a full fic lmk)

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

me: i'd like a little chaggie angst in my life.

me: nothing major. no blood or screaming or anything like that.

me: maybe something that could slot into canon without much trouble? something quiet. something sad. a small gut punch, is what im after

my brain: On in boss! Give me a sec.

my brain: .....

my brain: Okay how about this- Charlie was so hyped and determined to have Vaggie come with for the heaven trip not just bc they're partners, but also because- Charlie was gonna propose.

me: .... why would she propose? and in heaven? aside from it just being a nicer less gory place in general, i mean

my brain: Well Charlie was super excited about the trip, right? She thought there was a good chance they'd win their case, confirm Angel Dust's path to redemption, show their hotel could work, and prove the exterminations aren't needed and should stop. That's HUGE! That's her and Vaggie's current life goal getting checked off- and if they can stick together through making a hotel for redeeming sinners work, then marriage is kinda just yelling that for everyone to hear.

me: wouldn't charlie be freaked out by marriage tho. her parents are separated, and her family fell apart for while afterwards. she's only just started picking up the pieces with vaggie

my brain: EXACTLY!!! Vaggie got her talking with her dad, talking with him got him kinda onboard with the save sinners plan- the plan Charlie is trying to make her mom proud with! So her mom and dad aren't together, but they're least on the same page now! As far as Charlie knows anyway. Meaning them being married had REASONS behind it, reasons that haven't gone away even after they separated- so it's not like them being married to each other was for nothing or a mistake. It was good! It can still end good! And having Vaggie in her life is what helped all of that happen in the first place. Soooooo....

me: marry that girl?

my brain: Charlie was expecting her and Vaggie to get a great win up in heaven, together, as partners. What better time and place to say how much she wants to keep doing that with her?

me: hmm

my brain: Plus if Angel Dust got the green light for an eventual move to heaven, having the wedding before then would be kinda important if they wanted to be SURE he could be there for it. And Charlie would DEFINITELY want Angel there for it.

me: true, true.... so, what are we picturing here tho? how does all this... become a thing i can feel sad over?

my brain: Well first, imagine Charlie planning it. Being exited for it.

me: oh she'd be so very excited

my brain: Imagine her the entire time they're headed to and are up in heaven, checking her pocket whenever no one's looking, triple checking on the ring, grinning to herself- physically straining under the urge to just blurt everything out to Vaggie like she usually does BUT wanting SO MUCH for this to be a special surprise for Vaggie!

my brain: She goes on the heaven tour while Vaggie stays behind, and Charlie's a little relieved to get a break from the constant urge to get down on one knee whenever she looks over at her girlfriend- she spends the whole tour of heaven gushing about Vaggie, barely taking in the sights- maybe even lets slip, to her HORROR, what she's planning to ask (a beaming Emily SWEARS not to say a word)

Getting back to their room Charlie has to spend ten minutes pacing outside, muttering to herself and checking the ring and REMINDING herself NOT to just pull it out the moment she walks in and sees Vaggie again after a whole two hours apart- She goes in, buzzing with pent up marriage proposal energy, not sure she WON'T just say it all right then and there, and...

Vaggie's curled up on the bed, asleep, luggage open next to her and one of Charlie's spare shirts tucked around her like a blanket, a small stressed frown on her face as she naps.

Charlie melts. She takes a slow deep breath, lets out a long happy sigh, and tip toes quietly over. She does get down on one knee- to be on a level with Vaggie so she can smile at her and stroke her hair and smooch that pinchy frowny face, chuckling softly about how Vaggie never stops worrying about things, even in her sleep. At least Vaggie IS sleeping now. She hadn't gotten much of it, leading up to the trip here.

The ring is pulled out of Charlie's coat and slipped into pants pocket instead so Charlie can safely drape the coat itself over Vaggie, who's curled up as if Heaven's perfect temperature feels a bit chilly- and Charlie moves the luggage to make room on the the bed so she can snuggle in behind Vaggie, arms wrapped around her, maybe not able to resist playing with her girlfriend's left hand a little before dozing off herself.

Imagine Vaggie had been working up the courage to tell Charlie the truth when Charlie came back.... but she wakes up already safe in Charlie's hug, and it's- it'd be one thing to face Charlie across the room and see her turn away- it'd be another to FEEL her let go. Or to be the one who breaks the hold, maybe for the last time

So Vaggie doesn't tell Charlie.

And the trial goes, the way it goes, and Charlie- never tells Vaggie what she wanted to say either.

Instead of asking a question, Charlie gets answer, and they both find themselves on their knees in heaven- but for all the wrong reasons.

Then its bad. Charlie's up in their room alone with Razzle and Dazzle- and the RING- and she keeps trying to put it away or even chuck it out the window... but it always ends up tucked in her fist. Slipped safely back in her pocket.

In Cannibal Town, at Rosie's, when asked if she loves Vaggie, Charlie stumbles over her answer- not because she doesn't love her or doubt it, but.

She almost blurts out, at the worst moment- yes she loves Vaggie. She was even going to ask her to....

Everything all flies out the window back at the hotel gates.

They've got a fighting chance against heaven, hungry cannibals to arm with angelic steel, friends who chose to stay and FIGHT for their home and each other instead of running for cover- it's not what Charlie wanted but she'll damn well take it and she means to KEEP IT- there's no time to think about what the actual battle will be like or what (or if anything) comes after.

Charlie doesn't remember the ring again until days after the After.

At night in bed, after a long day doing more minor endless finishing touches to the new hotel (with Vaggie) and an evening writing out thank yous to everyone who helped hoping none of the overlords suddenly think of an extra cost to that help, rewording until her hand ached (and Vaggie took it gently and tugged her away with a "we'll finish them tomorrow, sweetie")

Charlie wakes up at night, in bed with Vaggie, and lays there staring up at the dark ceiling, frozen in panic- until she not frozen anymore but slipping out of bed and into carpeted middle of the room, hooves muffled as she paces, picking up KeeKee on the way and petting her frantically as she tries to THINK-

The ring, the fucking RING.

She doesn't know where the ring went.

Where she put it- still in her pocket when she was changing into her dress for the battle? Which pocket- pants or coat? Where had she put those- no one had bothered much with stuff like laundry when there were fortifications to be made! Not with Vaggie running daily drills on how to fight exorcists, not with Charlie scrambling to learn how to fight after a life of not ever wanting or needing to, but heaven had done those things to Vaggie, had hurt her, and wanted to do worse to their friends and Charlie would be DAMNED if-

had Charlie's one random set of clothes survived the blasts from the battle? Had they been sitting in the rubble somewhere? The ring- the ring should have made it- it'd been made to LAST after all-

Had someone else found it? She would've heard if anyone from the hotel had picked up a fancy ring though- a random cannibal or sinner maybe?

Or...

... maybe it was just lost. Just, gone.

Fallen in some crevasse or crack into some deeper part of hell, if it hadn't been melted and shattered with all the holy and unholy power being thrown around.

She knows exactly what that would look like, after all those times spent checking the ring, staring at it and trying to picture Vaggie wearing it without squeeing too loud. It would've looked good on her- but that daydream is gone too, and Charlie just sees the ruins of it.

Black obsidian band broken, gold edging melted, inner inscription burned away. The paired musical notes articulated with fermata like little rising suns above them (the pause, to be held as long as they wanted it to be) bracketed and bracketing the blood red, small, heart-shaped diamond....

All of it now probably just one dulled chip of rock lying somewhere no one will ever see.

Charlie, standing in the middle of her and Vaggie's new bedroom, staring at Vaggie asleep in their bed- her exhausted girlfriend planted face-fist into a pillow, silver gray angel wings flopped awkwardly over the covers and spreading out so long and slack (relaxed) they droop over mattress on either side, flight feathers brushing the floor.

The scars are still there too. Also silvery pale in the dim glow of hell outside the windows.

But when Charlie finally releases KeeKee and slips over to adjust Vaggie's pillow (she'd get a cricked neck otherwise) she has to stop and kneel down on the floor for a bit (down on one knee again too) and stare.

Vaggie's smiling in her sleep. Her eyepatch is off for the night, thin slit of black nothing peeking out under the lashes of that eye, and Charlie can see the fresh scars on her left arm from fighting off Lute.

Charlie, picking up Vaggie's left hand playing with it again, like she had up in heaven. Pressing a small kiss to the stab wound in it's palm.

It would've been nice to put on ring on that hand instead.

But Charlie finds herself smiling anyway, softly, as she squeezes into the thin strip of space between Vaggie and the edge of her side of the bed. She snuggles in close, Charlie's cheek on Vaggie's scarred hand and her arms wrapping tight around her own small piece of something way better than heaven.

Vaggie's wing stirring and drawing in, folding over Charlie like an extra blanket and a dreamy hug, not even having to be awake to want her closer.

"Next time," Charlie whispering as she falls asleep looking at her partner- her partner in every way that matters. "'m gonna wait for you to ask... 's your turn to worry about stupid rings, and, stuff...."

On the carpet in the middle of the room, KeeKee licks a paw. Stops. Coughs. Spits something out- something that chimes metallically as it bounces and rolls off the edge of the carpet an onto the floor-

KeeKee sniffs the thing curiously. Bats at it with one paw, pushing it under a dresser drawer. Then, bored, licks said paw and saunters off.

Vaggie's startled wings will fling herself backwards so hard and fast into the bedroom wall she'll end up giving herself a concussion, later, when she finds the ring.

it's her turn to worry about it, after all

XD

[chaotic-toasters]

Gone

Cortnee Vine x Reader (taken from my Wattpad)

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST

-------------------------

"Y/N, you good?" Kyra's usual mischevious grin was gone, replaced with a look of concern that was quickly mirrored by Charli. "You seem out of it."

It took a moment for you to realize she was talking to you, eyes snapping up to meet hers. "Uh– yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" the Gunner's voice was soft as she placed a hand on your shoulder. "It's okay to not be okay."

"I'm sure," you insisted, shrugging her off. "You and Charli have fun."

You weren't fine. That much was clear to anybody with working eyes. You'd come down for meals, only to eat half of the amount you should have. You'd train, only to act like a robot who didn't know how to have fun. You spent hours cooped up in your room, only coming outside when Mini and Steph physically dragged you out. It was unhealthy, and everyone was starting to worry.

"Y/N?" Macca questioned, sitting down next to you. "What's going on with you?"

You glanced around briefly, taking note of all of your teammates gathered around the sofas.

"What is this? An intervention?" you joked dryly. "I'm just going through something small. I'll get over it soon, don't worry about it."

"Y/N, if you're going through something, you need to tell us," Sam chided. "We're—"

"We're a team, and a team is family, blah blah blah," you rolled your eyes. "I know. But I told you it's fine."

"It sounds stupid, but it's true," Mini crossed her arms. "So are you gonna tell us, or are you going to keep suffering alone?"

"I think I'll keep it to myself, thank you," you stood, patting your knees. "I'll see you guys later."

"Sit," Steph growled, forcing you back down. "Tony's already worried about you, but we've told him we'll handle it. Do you want us to get him involved?"

Your nostrils flared. "You wouldn't."

"We will if you don't open your fuckin' mouth and talk," the Defender glared. "You know I'll do it."

You were silent.

"Come on, Y/N, just tell us what's going on," Cortnee pleaded. "We're your friends."

Friends. Something you didn't want to be with the Sydney FC Winger. Since the first time you met her, and she'd smile shyly while offering you her hand to shake, you'd fallen for her. Hard. And it hurt. Because you knew she didn't feel the same. To make matters worse, she already had a girlfriend who she was happy with. Much happier than she'd be with you.

"Just... mind your own damn business," you retorted weakly, attempting to shake Steph off you. "I can handle my own problems."

"Your problems are our problems," Mini reminded you. "If something is bothering you, we're here to help."

"You and Steph," you nodded to the door. "No one else."

You stood first, leading your two mentors outside.

"Well?" Steph placed her hands know her hips.

"I like Cortnee," you blurted. "I— um..."

Mini raised her eyebrows. "Which one?"

"Uh... Vine."

"Okay. Continue."

"I've liked her for years," you swallowed. "But she doesn't like me like that. And she has a girlfriend. It's hard to— to see Cortnee when... when I know I'll never compare to her."

Steph and Mini shared a look.

"Come here, kiddo," Steph said gently, opening up her arms. "It'll be okay."

You slumped into her warm hug, crying softly into her shoulder. You didn't know if you should have been glad or upset that they didn't tell you to confess your feelings to Cortnee. That meant that your suspicions had been correct, and that she didn't feel the same, but that also mean your suspicions had been correct. A total catch-22.

"Why don't you take a nap, kiddo?" Steph whispered, caressing your forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

---------------------

"I'm not gonna lie to her, Sam," Steph's voice was quiet. "I can't give her false hope. It's not like she believes it, anyway. Cortnee sees her as a friend. Nothing more."

"I just feel bad," Sam mumbled. "Are you sure there's nothing we can do?"

"I'm sure," the Defender confirmed sadly. "If she tells Viney, then things'll probably be awkward for one of them or both of them. If she doesn't tell Viney, then she has to keep her true feelings bottled up for the rest of her international career."

"No, I don't," you said suddenly, startling the the two captains. "I have a way out. And as much as it hurts to take it, it'll hurt more if I don't."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked worriedly. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just as Dutch as I am Australian," you refused to meet both of their widening eyes. "I'm eligible to play for the Oranje Leeuwinnen Vrouwen."

"What?" Sam was dumbfounded. "But you can't... we're your family!"

"If you and Kristie both played for the same national team, but Kristie was in a relationship with someone else and didn't love you back, would you still want to play with that team?"

Her silence spoke volumes.

"It's been quite the ride," you stood, offering a faint smile to both Sam and Steph. "Thank you both. I don't know when my transfer will be approved, but... I can't see Cortnee anymore. It hurts. A lot."

Sam looked ready to protest, but Steph instantly wrapped you in a motherly hug. "I'm so proud of you. You're gonna do great things. Make sure you call me though, yeah?"

You swallowed. "Yeah. Could you—could you do me a favour?"

"Of course."

"Tell all the girls that—" you sucked in a breath. "Tell all the girls that I've loved every minute of this journey with them, and that it's none of their faults I'm leaving. Could you—could you tell them the truth? The whole truth? I would, but I can't be there to see Cort's reaction. It would kill me."

Sam nodded, a small, sympathetic smile on her face. "Good luck, Y/N. We'll be cheering you on, always."

-----------------------

"Thanks, Tony," you shook hands with the manager gratefully. "You've been great."

"You as well, Y/N," he stated kindly. "Just remember that you've always got family in this team. You can come to us if you've ever got a problem. The Matildas are behind you."

Your lip wobbled. "I'll see you around, boss."

"Have a good one, Y/N."

--------------------

"As of today, Y/N will no longer play for Australia," Steph's voice shook slightly. "She'll be transferring to the Netherlands for the foreseeable future."

The room was dead silent.

"What?" Ellie was the first to speak. "Wh—why?"

Sam lowered her head. "She fell in love."

"With who!?" Cortnee looked upset. "She doesn't even have any Dutch teammates!"

Mini shook her head. "She didn't fall in love with a Dutch player."

"Then who—" Cortnee's eyes widened. "She likes one of us? Who?"

That's when it clicked for everyone else. The longing glances, the overly kind gestures, the touches that lasted just a bit too long; you loved Cortnee, but she hadn't even realized you liked her in the first place.

"Oh, Viney..." Lydia grimaced. "Poor Y/N."

"What is it?" the Winger was clearly starting to get annoyed that everyone knew something she didn't. "Just tell me already!"

Steph, Mini, and Sam all shared a look.

"Cort, there's no easy way to say this, but—" Steph felt as though there was something caught in her throat. "Y/N loved you. But she knew that you didn't feel the same."

Cortnee's breath hitched in her throat. She was suddenly taken back to a night at one of last year's training camps.

"Hey, Viney?" you started, slipping your phone into your pocket. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Shoot."

"Are you happy in your current relationship?" your tone was innocent.

She smiled. "Yeah. Char's so sweet, how could I not be happy? I could totally imagine a future with her."

Something in your eyes had shattered. That much was clear to her now. But she'd been too preoccupied thinking about her girlfriend that it had slipped her mind.

"Oh, Y/N..." Cortnee's voice was barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You deserve to be happy," her head snapped up at the sound of your raspy voice. "Who am I to take that away from you?"

"Y/N—"

"Thank you, girls, for my time here," you smiled weakly from the doorway, meeting each of your former teammates' eyes, though you struggled to meet Cortnee's. "It's been fun. I'm glad to have met all of you, to have shared the pitch with you, and most importantly, to become friends with all of you. I'll see you soon."

And just like that, you were gone.

[nowritingonthewall]

Hi! Can I ask for some random and domestic Poe HC? 🤧

Hello Nonnie, thank you so much for your request! I am sorry that my hcs always appear to escalate into mini-essays, I hope that you enjoy them anyway 🥰

!Content warning for allusions to past trauma (because it’s Poe) but it’s mostly fluffy!

Domestic headcanons with Poe (x gn!reader)

- If you were honest, you would never have expected Poe to actually settle down after the Battle of Exegol and the fall of the First Order. After all, he had been on the run since he had been 16 years old, his family a bunch of rebels, his home scattered across the stars. You had fully expected him to make his new job as a flying instructor his whole new life, filling every second with something exciting to do, always chasing the next thrill, never slowing down and let himself think for even a minute.

Instead, after helping the New Republic to get back on its feet, he had put most of his energy and devotion into making a home with you.

Even though he loves his job teaching students (and spending a lot of time in his x-wing while doing so), he always makes sure to finish on time so that he can spend as much of the remainder of the day with you as possible. It has become one of your daily little rituals for you to wait for him, sitting on your porch, two mugs of freshly brewed caf in your hands. It never stops warming your heart to see that gorgeous crinkly-eyed smile lighting up his face as soon as he sees you waiting for him. Giving you an adorable little wave, he always quickens his pace before pulling you into a long and heartfelt hug.

Watching the suns painting the sky with the most beautiful colours imaginable, you’ll sit snuggled up against each other, listening to each other's daily adventures.

It usually doesn’t take long before Poe’s head grows heavy against your shoulders. The first few times he tried to fight it and wouldn’t stop apologizing, no matter how often you tried to assure him that you didn’t mind at all. But soon these late afternoon or early evening naps become just another part of your daily routine.

Poe spent more than half his life making sure that everyone around him felt safe. Now, with the war becoming a more and more distant memory each day, it’s like his mind finally allows his body to catch up on all the rest that he has been denied during all those years – finally feeling safe in your arms.

And there really aren’t a lot of things that you enjoy more than holding your sleepy boy with his head resting in your lap, one hand intertwined with his, as the other one plays with his hair. You smile at every patch of grey that you find among his inky curls, more than grateful to be given the precious gift of being allowed to watch him grow old with you. It makes the warmest and fuzziest feelings bloom inside your heart to see his worry lines relax under the soft touch of your hand as you listen to his content mumbling and cutest little sighs.

- He still can’t sleep without you around, though. Whenever he is in dire need of a nap, and the weather has gone too cold to sit outside, even under a heap of cuddly blankets, he’ll sit down on the couch, look at you with the most irresistible baby ewok eyes and his softest smile and tap on his chest to ask for his favourite human blanket.

Sometimes he falls asleep within seconds as soon as you snuggle up to him. Sometimes he finds that it wasn’t sleep that he craved after all but simply the comforting presence of you right next to him, listening to the soothing rhythm of your breathing as you drift into peaceful slumber until his breath synchronizes with yours in perfect harmony. And sometimes your planned naps turn into Poe and you talking nonsense for hours, exchanging forehead kisses and nose rubs between giggles.

Poe used to think that the only way to escape the constantly reoccurring ringing in his ears was to drown it out with something even louder. Now he realizes that all he needs to find relief is the soft warmth of you lying on top of him, the shape of your bodies fitting together as perfectly as if they had been custom made for each other.

- And he allows himself to take his time with everything that he does. No more bone crushing hugs that aren’t allowed to last longer than a second and that he’d hoped would convey everything that he hadn’t time for to tell you in case he wouldn’t make it back from a mission. No more quick and chaste kisses to whatever body part they would land on before hurrying off into the next briefing or meeting.

Now he makes sure to pour all of his undying love for you into every single hug until you feel nothing but warm and safe and cared for. Every kiss of him shows you that you are the centre of his universe, from the very first kiss in the morning to the last kiss goodnight. They have become so much more tender and gentler, yet they never leave a single trace of doubt about his feelings for you.

Quick shared showers that used to be a practical necessity turn into long shared baths that last until the water turns cold. Sometimes when you aren’t ready to step out of your cocoon of warmth just yet, you wrap each other in fluffy towels and make yourself comfortable on the heating unit waiting until you’re dried off.

As you cuddle up to each other, enjoying the closeness, you find a new softness and gentleness to your relationship that you had never thought possible. You are no longer clinging to each other for dear life, always scared that you might lose each other the next minute, constantly feeling like loving on borrowed time.

And Poe takes his time rediscovering and getting to know you all over again. Gently scrubbing your back in the bath or giving you a long tension-relieving massage. Learning everything there is to know about how you take care of your hair, while committing every single detail about you to memory. Not because he fears that every time might be the very last chance to do so but because he decided to commit every single fibre of his heart and soul to loving you. Because he chooses you. Over and over again.

It takes a while for him to get comfortable letting you take care of him the same way that he takes care of you. Yet every time it is your turn to hold him in the bathtub, he finds it a little easier to relax against your chest, melting into your embrace a little deeper. With every soft kiss pressed to his temple, he manages to let go a little further. As he rests his cheek against yours, while your hands are slowly caressing over his arms, he has never felt more vulnerable and at the same time more safe and protected than during those moments.

That’s when the tears tend to flow.

Those are the days when you make sure to take extra good care of him. Letting him rest his head against your shoulder as you carefully pat his back with a towel, gently kissing his tears away before placing a soft kiss on every single one of his scars, putting pain relieving lotion on his arm and massaging his tense shoulder. Only a few months ago this kind of special treatment would have made him feel more than uncomfortable. Seeing his own needs through your loving eyes, he slowly begins to accept that it is okay to take them seriously. And as he curls up against your chest, he doesn’t only allow it but he knows that he can completely trust you to take care of him.

- Poe has always loved to dance. Nearly as much as he loves to cuddle with you. Sadly, the days of the Resistance hadn’t exactly given you a lot of opportunity to do so and reasons to break into celebratory dances had been all too rare. So now he takes any chance he gets to hug you from behind, snuggle up as close to you as possible, rest his head on your shoulder and his cheek against yours while swaying the both of you to some music coming from your holopad or to a secret rhythm that only the two of you seem to be able to feel.

You dance in the morning while waiting for the first few cups of caf to brew, while waiting for something yummy baking in the oven, when you’re trying to dust the shelves, or while doing the dishes.

Doing the dishes never becomes a boring task with Poe. If he doesn’t turn it into a dance, there are bound to be lather battles that more often than not turn into tickle fights. And they always end with him using the dish cloth to draw you in for a long and wobbly-knees-inducing kiss.

This is also where most of your more serious conversations take place. It’s always been easier for Poe to talk about difficult topics while his hands have something to do. So whenever you feel like there’s something on his mind that he has trouble talking about, you’ll ask him “dish discussion?”, to which he answers with a relieved smile.

And, of course, should the topic require some serious hugging action, you can always continue your discussion on the kitchen floor, which proves over and over again to be the best place to solve any problem imaginable. And in case one of you should be in need of an even more comforting atmosphere, your kitchen cabinet features an extra compartment containing all the components required to build a blanket fort. It’s a habit that goes back to the early days of you joining the Resistance. And afterwards your blanket fort of safety can easily be converted into a blanket fort of romantic dinners and cuddle sessions.

- The two of you share a little garden with Rey, who doesn’t live too far away from you (I am sorry, LEGO, I refuse to believe that the trio would ever split up!). At least it was a little garden in the beginning. It all started when Poe noticed how Rey’s eyes would start to sparkle whenever she came across anything lush and green. So he began to present her with a special plant from every place that he visited. Pretty soon even her house was too small to accommodate her (not so) little personal jungle, so you helped her turning her backyard into a little garden. Which just kept on expanding. Because it never stopped warming Poe’s heart to see the way Rey’s face shining brighter than the suns whenever he found a new exotic plant for her.

He helped her create her special place of happiness both in her mind and in the physical world and you two are the only ones apart from Finn she trusts to take care of it. Even if your and Poe’s gardening sessions sometimes turn into several rounds of mud wrestling or splashy water fights.

Poe’s first very own gardening project featured the planting of a row of koyo trees. They weren’t even supposed to be able to grow in this climate but Poe Dameron has never been one to let logic or reason stand in the way of matters close to his heart. After all, he had managed to nurse a force tree back to health without any jedi tricks. And maybe Rey’s and Finn’s way with the force helped a little, too. Though he will always tell everyone willing (or maybe not too willing) to listen that it was your loving care that made the trees grow and flourish and bloom in the end.

His proud little face when he was able to harvest the very first fruit is another one of your many precious and treasured memories. Of course he let you have the first bite, almost a little nervous about your reaction.

The original plan was to turn the fruits into juice and jelly and lots of cakes. Which was a good plan. And it probably would have worked if the koyo fruits hadn’t been so damn tasty that you ate most of them before they ever had a chance to land in a basket. And what better way to spend the last days of summer than sitting lazily in the cool shadow of a koyo tree, taking turns to lie in each others lap while feeding each other freshly picked koyo fruits?

- During the nights when neither of you is able to sleep, you’ll climb onto the roof of your house, which offers a snug little platform that provides the perfect secluded retreat to lie on your back and gaze at all the stars in the galaxy. A galaxy that’s finally at peace.

Poe’s gaze keeps wandering back to you, though, and every time it does, he can’t stop smiling. As soon as you notice, you’ll snuggle a little closer to cradle his head and place the softest little kiss on his forehead, making him smile even wider. Softly stroking your cheek, he returns the kiss. On your nose, on your temple, across your jaw line, all over both of your cheeks, and everywhere he can reach.

You finally dare to make plans for the future again. Talking about all the stars and systems and planets you would like to explore together. Without rush, without being constantly on your guard, actually being able to look forward to visiting them.

The important thing is that Poe is no longer driven by the uncontrollable need to chase every single one of them. Because he has his own little galaxy lying right here by his side.

[redrandomposts]

what is your opinion on time traveling Till in a time loop of making sure Ivan survives (spoiler: he doesn't) and slowly going insane.

Thing is his constant loops create an error in time so an insane adult Till is transported at the start of the contest.

Insane Till locks his attention to Ivan right away and kidnaps him much to everyone's bewilderment.

till watched, almost void of life, as ivan fell to the ground. he didn't register it for one moment, two moments - it's only when he saw the blood-dyed suit, the unseeing eyes, the unmoving body did he truly know what happened.

ivan had died. it was an irrefutable fact. like how the rain will always be dyed red, and how the white will always be stained maroon, ivan will always be dead.

that is, until hours after in the waiting room, preparing for the finale. till had taken a brief nap, a bare blink, and woken up in the room he was in the morning he took the stage, across from ivan.

===

dyed red. red red red- it will always be red. the rain will always fall, and always dilute the blood, and always always always will his white suit never stay pure. he'll fall to the ground, no matter if till continues to sing or not, if he begs and pleads, if he smiles or cries or yells; the stage is his deathbed. his coffin, the place his memory will forever be immortalized.

till has tried everything. he rigged the robots, rigged the polls, rigged the points; he kidnapped and took and gave; till has watched and held and left ivan as he died.

what else can he try? mere hours to everyone else, but another day in a decade for him, of the same rinse and repeat.

so when he wakes up somewhere new, with a vague familiarity attached to the way the papers are scattered, he feels... dread.

what about ivan? is he here? will till never see ivan again? has till failed so much even the universe won't try again?

except it's a blessing.

after investigating the same halls for decades, till knows how to escape. he's taken ivan down the same path, months later, only for it to somehow go wrong. the halls are the same, except downgraded, and ivan is here too. he might be younger, without the same memory of falling falling falling, but it's ivan. the snaggletooth, the grin, the hair, the skin; it's all ivan.

till doesn't know how he's here, but he takes the chance. they're gone before the dawn fully lifts, before ivan could tell left from right and dream from reality.

till doesn't restrain ivan much. ivan is the earth to his sun; he can't let him go blind, nor does he need to take his hearing or voice or food. however, till can't just let him stray. just as the sun holds the planets in orbit, till holds ivan in his vicinity using chains.

at least, till thinks as he looks at ivan, he doesn't try to leave till's vicinity either. ivan knows his place as till's earth.

=====

GUYS IM A GENIUS??? I LITERALLY CAME UP WITH THE EARTH AND SUN METAPHOR AT THE VERY END AND IT'S INSANE???

like, the earth's life can't exist without sunlight - plants grow from it, the heat warms ice to water, etc... but the earth is only just another planet to the sun. the moon is ivan's love for till, because the moon is only seen because it reflects light from the sun. am i making sense??

anyways i love this au but im not doing it justice ;-;