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biteyoubiteme · 2 months ago

Note

Can I get Felix nsfw fic about breeding kink👀

lost luggage

felix x fem!reader

synopsis: the one where you lost your birth control pills.

warnings: 🔞!!! hand job mention, fingering mention, breeding kink, talk of birth control, creampie, no protection, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.6k

an: this is not the best im so sorry but I love this pic of felix so so much and I hope you like it <33 thank you so much for requesting! not proofread sorry :p

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

You had lost your suitcase. Or the airline had misplaced the luggage and claimed to get it to you in the next forty-eight hours. Apologizing for the inconvenience and sending you on your way. It hadn't been too big a deal, Felix talking you down from the anger bubbling up inside you, not necessarily at the airline but at yourself for thinking this would never happen to you. And then yes at the airline and their stupid bad timing and even worse customer service.

But Felix was there, hand on your shoulder, heady voice in your ear, whispering about taking you out to grab the essentials, to not worry about this one setback. He didn't even care about showing up late to the party you two had been flown out for in the first place. “We will be here all week, being an hour or two late won’t hurt anyone,”

He was right, everyone had been sympathetic to your situation, cursing the baggage claim gods just as passionately as you had. But it wasn't until the third day of your trip that you remembered one of the key things left in your toiletries bag. The little foil and plastic case of your birth control pills, hastily added into the bag because it was always right there on the edge of the sink next to your toothbrush, taken in the morning consistently enough that you never really forget about it. Not until it was one of the last things on your mind when trying to remember exactly what you needed to buy to replace the lost items for the time being.

You would have forgotten entirely if it hadn't been for your reflex to reach out for the pill case the second you have finished washing your face. “Shit,” you scrambled to think up the last time you had sex, save the lazy hand jobs the two of you had exchanged in bed that first night. Felix's fingers buried deep inside you as the two of you made out, his soft moans trapped against your lips with each drag of your hand on him.

Felix hummed a question from the hotel's bed, still lying back against the headboard scrolling on his phone. “What is it?”

“My birth control was in the checked bag,” you sighed, over the whole thing, if you thought about the bag too much it would just put you right back to the mindset you had right at that airport help desk. “It's fine, calm, cool, collected thoughts just like you said,” you tried to mimic his sweet soothing voice, letting the syllables relax in your mouth to make them true. “If we have sex we will just be careful and when I get the bag back I will make sure to always listen to my gut and put essentials into the carry on,”

The conversation had been over and done with, forgotten by you as you got ready to go out but not forgotten by Felix. The first thing that came to his mind was the same thought as you, when was the last time you had sex, did you two happen to slip up? Then his mind tripped down a road of questions he never found himself exploring; would it be so bad if you two had slipped up? What if neither of you cared? What if he did get you pregnant?

Never had his body reacted so fast to an idea, blood rushing down to his cock until it was aching and dripping precum at a rate he hadn't ever experienced. It wasn't as if he had never thought about having kids with you, no this was different, the risk of it right now. Just thinking about how close the two of you had been without realizing it, how only the night before if he had pushed into you, fucked you until you were dumb on his cock, spilling inside you only to do it all over again, you'd be claimed in a way he never would have thought about until this very second.

He wanted that; to watch you dripping with his cum, claimed as his in a way no other man had ever had you, ready to do it over and over again until you were stuffed so full you couldn't even think about anything else but him and him alone. He was shifting in his seat, trying and failing to adjust himself in his sweatpants, his bulge slung across his thigh, noticeable enough for when you came out of the bathroom again needing the zipper of your dress done up. You chuckled,“Just hearing me say sex gets you hard now?”

Your hands were on the front of your dress, holding it up and in place, pushing up your boobs just the right amount to draw his eyes in. If you got pregnant they would get bigger, maybe even double in size, and it's all that he can see as he pulls you down on the bed.

The breath is knocked out of you, his hips fitting right between yours pressing his clothed cock right against you, grinding as he kisses down your neck, leaving a sloppy trail of them right down to your cleavage. Pulling down your dress just enough to free your tits from the fabric, his moan deep in the back of his throat as he takes in your peaked nipples. “Look at how pretty,” he always lets his voice drag out, running low enough to get your panties soaked. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

He's looking at you from under his lashes, drawing you in with every little word. You would be anything he wanted you to be if it got him to look at you like that, every little freckle on display under his heated lazy gaze. Your chin barely moves to nod yes and he's got his hands under your dress, tearing your panties away. He wanted you in a way he's never felt before, the walls of his reserve packed up tight now crumbling down at the sight of your glistening cunt.

Felix doesn’t falter in his movements tugging himself free from his sweatpants, jerking his wrist over his veiny shaft, circling his fingers over his tip collecting all his precum. You're spilled out on the sheets, dress pushed into a belt around your center, your knees falling open for him just enough so that when he pulls you to the edge of the bed you can wrap them around him. Your hips jerk at the sensation of him dragging his cock through your folds, getting himself as lubed up on your wetness as he can before he pushes in.

The sound of his moan rumbled through his body, no time to let you adjust to the size of him before he's plumbing into you. Your hands shoot out for his wrists, his fingers denting into your hips to keep you in place. “Oh fuck- you always take my cock so well baby-” Every drag of his cock against your gummy walls is pure bliss, your mind fogging up with each sweet word he shares. “Sucking me in and begging me to fill you,”

It's then that you realize you forgot a condom, not that either of you had one handy, not when you relied so heavily on your pills. “You have to- you'll have to-” but as much as you want to say the words they get stuck right on the edge of a whimper, pull out, right on the edge of your tongue. But its all tamped down when he adds, “ill have to fill you up, pump you full of my cum- fuck- push it back in and do it again,”

Felix had never brought this up before, not even when he was desperately begging you to finish with him, buried deep in you needing to hear you cry for him. This was different, panting as he went on and on, “Everyone will know you're mine, all plump and perfect with my baby,” he lets one of his hands press down into your pelvis, slapping skin sticky in the air, knees weak from the feeling. “I'm going to cum right here, you feel that?” he digs the heel of his palm in, the tip of his cock pressed right where he wants it, tucked against your cervix hitting it until you're a shaking mess below him. “You'regoing to be so full of me, don't you want that? Tell me you want my baby,”

“Felix,” you're gasping, scratching at the sheets trying and failing to find purchase on something to keep you grounded because, with each snap of his hips against yours, you're losing it, scrambling to find sanity.

“Tell me, fuck- oh fuck- please, tell me,” he's begging thumb moving down to press on your swollen clit, circling the bud until your back is lifting off the mattress. He has a direct pull on your body, tugging your orgasm out of you.

“I want it- please I want your baby,” you're almost in tears before the tidal wave crashes over you, your whole body tensing up before collapsing into bliss. Felix's hot cum spurts out in thick streams coating your walls and pushing out with each continuous stroke of his cock inside you. He slows just enough to let you keep squeezing him, his hands sliding up your thighs to keep them in place around him.

Leaning down to pepper you with kisses he inadvertently pushes into you deeper, your whimper so sweet neck to his ear,“we can stay like this for a while before we go another round,”

“A-another?”

He drags his hips, grinding down against your sensitive clit, “I want to make sure I fill you enough to have that baby,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @possum-playground @ch4nn13luv want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

#cams!1kevent #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz felix

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reidsmanuscript · 22 days ago

Text

Profiler, profiled.

Summary: When the past creeps up, more vivid and dangerous than ever, at the same time that the attraction becomes undeniable—and so do the mistakes. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: mutual pinning but painful, angst. wc: 7.3k! TW: Profiler, profiled canons! so Child abuse (implied and discussed), Sexual abuse, Framing/wrongful accusation, Police misconduct, Violence, mentions of traumatic readers' past!, female rage, violent thoughts. not proofread yet A/N: SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE, this is my take on soulmates, thank u for all the feedback/support btw, really mindblowing <3 part I - part II - part III - part IV - masterlist

　　　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　　

Something as routine and comforting as traveling to your hometown for your mom’s birthday can go wrong in an instant—sometimes, all it takes is a single moment of doubt. Unfortunately for Derek Morgan, it was the absence of doubt that could become his sentence.

Hotch was notified, as per FBI protocol, that one of his agents had been arrested as a homicide suspect. Maybe it was the fact that he knew Morgan wasn’t capable of something like that—he had been a prosecutor before joining the Academy, after all. As his boss, he refused to believe it. But as his friend, he knew that the smartest move, the one most people failed to make, was calling a lawyer.

The problem? Morgan didn’t have one.

The Bureau’s legal counsel wouldn’t intervene in a case where one of their own was being charged. It had to be someone who knew him, someone who would believe in him.

There was only one person who fit that description.

A.D.A. Woodvale.

So, after issuing an emergency recall for Reid, Prentiss, Jareau, Garcia, and Rossi—Hotch called you.

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

One thing some victims, or their families, do after the person who ruined their lives is convicted is express gratitude. Sometimes immensely, sometimes barely—especially when the verdict isn’t what they had hoped for.

Still, they are grateful for your time and commitment to their pain. That’s why some send gifts like baskets filled with fruit, chocolates, candy, or all three combined.

You were at your desk, late at night, again, reviewing case files and drafting a legal brief, absorbed in the task at hand. The basket with its chocolates, and cookies remained sitting on a chair near the window, quietly out of place among the legal paperwork without any card or name, maybe they forgot to put it or it fell on the way.

The phone rings, and you answer immediately, announcing yourself. When the voice on the other end speaks your name, you recognize it instantly.

“I’m gonna need your help.” Agent Hotchner.

You straighten your back. “What is it? A warrant? It’s going to be hard at t—”

He cuts you off. “Morgan is in trouble.” That was enough to tell you this wasn’t just any ordinary favor.

You hesitate, cautious. “What happened?”

“He was arrested as a suspect in a homicide in Chicago.” Morgan? Homicide? For a moment, you’re ready to refuse—this isn’t your field. You put people in jail, not get them out. But then you remember—he saved your life over a year ago. And the weight of that debt settles heavily on your shoulders.

“Hotch, I... What do you want me to do? I don’t have connections there. Maybe I could talk to—”

He interrupts again. “He’s going to need a good lawyer. I know this isn’t what you do, but you know him. You know he’s not capable of something like that.” There’s a brief silence as you weigh your options, considering your next move.

"The jet takes off first thing tomorrow morning," he says, giving you an out, leaving the decision in your hands.

You exhale, and resolve settling in. "Send me the details. I’ll be there."

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

As you stepped onto the jet, you spotted Hotch already seated alone. Without hesitation, you slid into the seat across from him, greeting him with a quiet nod, your back turned toward the entrance.

One by one, the rest of the BAU arrived, offering you brief acknowledgments as they settled in. When Reid stepped onto the jet, he barely glanced up—until he caught sight of the back of your head. He hesitated for just a second before moving to a seat diagonal from yours.

Hotch quickly explained that you were joining them to assist Morgan as his defense counsel. The weight of the situation settled over the jet, unspoken but palpable. You noticed it in the way the air felt heavier, in the subtle shifts of the team’s expressions, like how Prentiss shifted in her seat or the way Reid’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Since the Katie Jacobs case, he wouldn’t call it an obsession—that would be an exaggeration, and his mind rejected the idea of something so unscientific, but a fixation? Perhaps. There was something about you that tugged at the edges of his thoughts more often than he liked to admit. His memories of your first meeting were frustratingly blurred, dulled by the lingering fog of withdrawal, but he remembered enough. The way you carried yourself—composed, sharp, unreadable. The precision of your movements, deliberate in a way that suggested control rather than ease. The way your voice stayed measured even when you were angry, like someone who had learned to sharpen their words into weapons rather than waste them on emotion. And your eyes—steady, assessing, like you were always five steps ahead in a game only you could see.

Did you ever place two magnets next to each other and test how close they could be without touching? If they would repel or attract?

Magnets could only get so close before they either locked together or violently repelled each other. If their north poles faced one another—mirrors of the same force—they would push apart, unable to exist in such perfect reflection. But if one turned, aligning its south to the other’s north, the pull would be instant, inevitable.

That was a physicist's way of explaining why, the moment you caught him in the corner of your vision, you noted how his hair was longer than before, tucked behind his ears; how his fingers brushed over the pages of a book, a well-worn paperback pulled from his bag. Crime and Punishment. The same one you had almost mistaken for yours once. North. North.

But now, seeing it again, you wondered—what did he think about Raskolnikov’s theory of extraordinary men? Did he believe true morality could be measured mathematically, the way Raskolnikov tried to justify his crime with cold logic? Or did he see through it, past the numbers, past the equations, past the desperate rationalizations of a man trying to convince himself he was above consequence?

And what would he think about your take on it? That a man was either a fool for failing to control himself or a coward for refusing to own what he had done? Either way you just wanted to know his opinion. North. South.

You were just about to ask him when JJ spoke up. “I don’t understand. Can you even represent Morgan if you’re an A.D.A.? Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?”

It was a fair question, one you had asked yourself last night before finding a loophole.

You let out a slow breath, considering. "Technically, I’m not Morgan’s lawyer—he hasn’t called me personally to represent him. And I wouldn’t be joining you as his defense attorney… officially." You glanced at Hotch. "Prosecutors consult on defense cases all the time—off the record. I’m not filing any motions, I’m not putting my name on anything. I’m just… advising."

Prentiss raised an eyebrow. "Advising?"

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair. "I can’t officially defend him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help. And the police don't need to know every detail about that."

Hotch gave a small nod. "That keeps you in the clear. No official involvement, no risk to your career."

Reid, who had been silent, finally spoke. "But what happens if they’ve already decided Morgan is guilty?"

Your jaw tightened, but Rossi answers first "Then that’s where we come in. We find out who’s setting Morgan up—and we make sure they don’t get away with it."

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

As you arrived at the police station, you hung back from the group, not wanting to interfere with the BAU’s process. But when Detective Dennison refused to take Hotch to see Morgan, you decided you wouldn’t stand by quietly anymore.

You stepped forward, standing next to Hotch. “Are you going to take us to see Derek Morgan, or not, Detective?”

He glanced at you as though he didn’t understand the urgency. “Detective Gordinski's in with the suspect now”

“Now is when we need to see him.” you shot back.

“Excuse me?” he started to respond, but Hotch cut him off.

“I have your superintendent's personal cell number,” Hotch said calmly. “And, in the interest of not running roughshod over another police agency, I’ve resisted calling him so far. We need to see Agent Morgan now.”

You couldn’t help but think how Hotch was finally getting some work done.

The detective nodded and, after disappearing into a room, came back with another man. Detective Gordinski, you assumed. It was something you were used to, this unspoken assumption that you were a junior, a minor player in the room, because of your age. It happened often when older men met you—defense attorneys, paralegals, specialists, and even police officers. They assumed you were less than you were. Gordinski was no different. When he approached you, he only offered his hand to Hotch.

“Detective Gordinski, CPD,” he said, as if you weren’t standing right there.

Hotch didn’t seem to notice the slight. “You think an FBI agent, a BAU profiler, committed a homicide?”

Gordinski answered with a level of pride that made your stomach turn. “Actually, three homicides at least, over 15 years.”

You heard JJ and Reid protest, both equally shocked by his ridiculous statement. And the way Gordinski spoke, as though the case was already closed, irritated you. “Has he been charged with anything?”

“I’ve got 72 hours for that,” he replied, clearly still lacking sufficient evidence.

“We’d like to see him,” you said, your tone final. He hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly agreed as Denninson took you and Hotch to see Morgan.

As you entered the interrogation room, you found him in a sort of trance, staring at a photograph in his hands. When he finally looked up, there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“You okay?” you asked, aware of the detective’s overbearing presence in the room.

Morgan exhaled sharply, turning the photo toward you. “This kid—I was with him yesterday.”

“So?” Hotch prompted.

Morgan shook his head, his voice tight. “So, he’s dead. I drove him home, Hotch, and Gordinski’s saying I was the last person seen with him.” His gaze flickered between the two of you, frustration and disbelief written all over his face.

You didn’t need to analyze the detective’s stance to know he had already made up his mind—his persistence was nothing more than a show, an act to reinforce a conclusion he had already reached. But the look in Morgan’s eyes told you everything you needed to know. He cared about that kid.

Turning to the detective, you asked smoothly, “Is there a more private place where I can speak with my client?”

The man hesitated, taken aback. Up until this moment, you hadn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t an agent. His expression tightened. “I’m afraid we don’t have another space for you and the suspect,” he replied with a forced smile.

You returned his look with a cool, unwavering stare. “You do know that any conversation between me and him falls under lawyer-client privilege, right?”

His mouth opened in protest, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“And denying us the proper privacy means that any so-called evidence you think you can get from this interrogation would be inadmissible in court. Not to mention, it’s a direct violation of SSA Morgan’s constitutional rights.” Your tone remained calm, professional—not threatening. Not yet.

The detective narrowed his eyes but gave a short, forced nod, his polite smile not reaching them. “I’ll see what we can do.”

That was code for We’re not doing a damn thing, but we’ll make this as difficult as possible.

Fine. You’d play their game. But first, you needed to find out exactly what they had on Morgan—and fast.

As you step outside, a harsh voice—too raspy and loud for your liking—carries through the room, discussing evidence. You stay quiet, listening. Being on the other side of the law feels strange, but it’s not difficult. If you know how to prosecute, you know the tricks and games cops play. And if you know your opponent's strategy, it’s easier to disarm them and lead them where you want.

The detective asks Rossi if he’s Agent Gideon, and when the detective explains he was the one who sent the profile that led them to Morgan, you curse Gideon internally. First Reid, now Morgan.

"It also said the way the body was placed gently on a mattress, not just tossed on the ground, indicated someone who was probably consumed with guilt, especially for the first victim. The exact words are—'with a guilt-ridden offender,' the BAU postulates the first victim is the most important and the unsub may still visit the place of the crime or even the victim himself.'"

Gordinski’s voice drips with conviction. "Care to guess who visits my first victim every time he's in town?"

You notice Reid glance at you, but you keep your focus on the detective, listening carefully as he continues.

"Then yesterday, another kid ends up dead, and the last person he was with was Derek Morgan. In the boy's pocket, we found one of his FBI business cards, his cell number written on the back. In fact, every time Morgan's in town, he hangs out with kids."

JJ calls it a coincidence.

"A hell of a lot of coincidences," Gordinski retorts.

“I prefer the term 'circumstantial'” you say from the back of the room.

Gordinski turns, sizing you up with an incredulous look—too young, maybe too idealistic. "And you are?"

"Derek Morgan’s attorney." There was no reason to hide anymore, you didn't bother offering your hand.

Gordinski barely reacts before flipping open a file. "Did I mention that your client found the body in 1991? Hidden way back in a vacant lot. Now, don’t they teach you that when a body is hard to find, the person who finds it is always a suspect?"

You do the math quickly, Morgan would have been too young.

And you feel like Reid reads your thoughts when he answers. "There are key pieces of the profile that don't fit, Detective. The age—25 to 35—Morgan was 15 at the time."

"Profile Also says that age is the hardest to predict, and I should never exclude someone simply because of a discrepancy with the age." Gordinski is grasping now, trying to force the facts to fit.

Prentiss speaks up. "What about the speculation that since he didn't leave any evidence at the crime scene, he's likely to have a criminal record or law enforcement knowledge?"

"He may not have had knowledge of law enforcement, but Derek Morgan definitely had a criminal record." He tosses a file onto the table. You open it, scanning the contents. Resisting arrest. Vandalism. Aggravated battery. You inhale deeply.

"So he was a troubled kid, not a murderer. What kind of 15-year-old kills another boy, then deliberately stages the body just to make sure he’s the one to 'find' it?" Your voice is sharp, challenging him to walk into your tramp.

Gordinski smirks. "I’m sure you know psychopaths are very smart people, Miss."

Bingo.

You tilt your head. "So, is Morgan a psychopath? A guilt-ridden killer? Or an FBI agent dumb enough to leave his own business card at the crime scene? Because he can’t be all three, and right now you're contradicting yourself, Detective."

The room is silent for a beat. Gordinski clenches his jaw, his grip tightening on the file in his hands. He glares at you like you are his personal enemy.

You don’t give him time to recover. "You're reaching. And I think you know it." you say as you leave the room to look for your client.

And if Reid hadn’t been so mesmerized with the way you had subtly guided Gordinski, he might have given in to the impulse he had to correct him when he addressed you as Miss and not Counselor.

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　

Rossi had sent Prentiss and Reid to Morgan’s house to investigate, while you stayed to ensure none of the Detectives would do something sketchy with the proofs.　　

Maybe it was the PTSD Dr. Fitzgerald diagnosed you with when you were 11, but the moment Carl Buford entered the room, something felt off. It wasn’t obvious, more like a second nature—a survival instinct that had been honed over the years. You weren’t always right, of course. You’d had a few false alarms before, but this time, something in the air shifted. It wasn’t in his appearance or his words; it was in the way he presented himself—as someone kind, someone willing to help, harmless. But it triggered something in you. The sirens in your brain went on, even if they were faint, too faint to be taken seriously but still enough to be annoying.

Reid had just returned from Morgan’s house when he saw you standing by the board, JJ on the phone and Rossi talking to you. He noticed how you discreetly stifled a yawn, and it hit him—it was nearly evening. The Cheetos packet that probably belonged to JJ and the half-eaten cheese sandwich from Rossi were the only signs of food nearby. It dawned on him that you likely hadn’t eaten all day.

He didn’t want to be the kind of person who overcompensated in an obvious way, but seeing you like this stirred something in him. It reminded him of the last time he saw you at the mall, how you’d instinctively avoided him, as if you couldn’t stand being around him for more than a few seconds. The longest you’d managed to stay in the same spot was 8.12 seconds.

That had been the last time, though. Now, things felt different. You were talking to Rossi when Reid approached and offered coffee to everyone. You could tell he was overcompensating—or at least, that’s what you assumed.

Then again, maybe you were reading too much into the moment when he’d slightly quickened his pace as you all entered the police station, holding the door open for everyone. Or maybe he was just anxious about his friend and eager to get inside quickly.

Or when you were rummaging through your bag for a pen, and he handed you one without hesitation. It could have been just a simple gesture, a convenient moment. But you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it—if he was trying to do something, anything, to bridge the gap between you.

You felt stupid for liking his gestures, for craving his attention. That’s why you said yes when he offered the coffee—because you couldn’t help it.

And he was happy to do it. He put special care into preparing your cup, even though he hadn’t asked how you took your coffee. Statistically speaking, most people put about two teaspoons of sugar in their coffee, but he didn’t know what you preferred. Maybe you liked it with even more sugar than that, just like he did. Maybe you didn’t use sugar at all, maybe you used honey.

He caught himself before he poured too much, measuring out what he assumed was the “average” amount, then handed it to you with a small, careful smile. There was a brief moment when your fingers brushed, and maybe his lingered for a second longer than necessary.

But when you took a sip, it hit you. The sweetness of the sugar was overwhelming, and the unexplainable presence of Carl Buford seemed to crawl into your mind, making it worse. It was your fault for not telling him no sugar. Your hand froze for a moment as you fought to swallow, your fingers tightening slightly around the cup.

Reid noticed. He saw how you stiffened, how your grip on the cup tightened, and he assumed he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe you didn’t like sugar in your coffee, or maybe you just didn’t like it at all. He felt a pang of regret, thinking he’d misread the situation. He wasn’t sure why, but for a moment, he wondered if he was always this wrong about you. North. North.

You didn’t want to overreact or be rude, so you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to splash some water on your face and steady yourself. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, silently telling yourself to calm down.

Maybe you were overreacting to Buford. But that thought was short-lived. The moment Hotch and JJ entered the room and she began speaking, confirming what you had already sensed, everything inside you seemed to crack. Carl Buford—the man who was fervently helping the police catch Morgan, was the same one who had written a letter to clear his record. The contradiction hit you like a punch to the gut, and you couldn’t shake the sound of the sirens growing.

You followed Hotch as he approached the interrogation room, your mind racing with the unsettling sense you couldn’t shake. You didn’t even notice Reid following behind you, keeping a respectful distance. Hotch entered the room, and the questioning began.

"Carl Buford." Morgan’s voice was tight, his shoulders tensing at the name. He stood up from the table where his arms had been resting. "What?"

"Carl Buford. He runs the youth center." Hotch's voice was calm, measured, but you could feel the pressure building behind it. From the other side of the glass, you stood in front of the glass, only for a moment, before Reid joined you at a respectful distance.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Morgan's tone was dismissive, brushing off the mention of Buford like the idea of talking about him was unbearable.

"He's responsible for getting your records expunged." The words hung in the air, sharp and deliberate. Maybe it was the steady presence of Reid beside you that kept you grounded, or maybe it was that something about Buford just didn’t sit right with you. The sirens in your head grew louder.

"I told you to stay the hell out of my business." Morgan’s voice rose, defensive, but not with rage—more like a wounded animal cornered by a predator.

"You said you visit the youth center every time you come here," Hotch pressed, not backing down.

"So what?" Morgan spat out the words like they were poison.

"Buford says he hasn't spoken to you in years. Why don’t you visit the man who made your career possible?"

"Damn you, Hotch." Morgan’s fist slammed onto the table as he stood up, knocking the box over in frustration. That was when you knew. The sirens in your brain were deafening now—loud enough to drown everything else out, and you couldn’t ignore it.

The sickness in your stomach was undeniable. You swallowed it down, fighting the urge to leave, but your instincts were already pushing you forward. You grabbed the door handle, taking one last breath before entering.

"Agent Hotchner, I would like to speak to my client." When Hotch didn’t move, still focused on Morgan, you added, "Now."

With a quiet but firm nod, Hotch left the room, his stoic expression unchanged. You sat down in the chair, your mind racing even faster. If you wanted Morgan to trust you—if you wanted to get through to him—you had to give him something first.

“Aren’t you supposed to be defending me? Looking for a way to get me out of here?” he snapped.

“I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me, Derek.”

“I am being honest. I didn’t kill those kids! He has nothing to do with this!”

“Then why is he so eager to help the police?” you shot back.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything—just glared at you, jaw clenched, shoulders tense. You recognized that look. It was the look of someone who had learned, maybe too many times, that the world didn’t always care about the truth.

"Derek I can't do much if you don't trust me." You say as calmly as you can.

Morgan let out a humorless chuckle. “Trust you?” he said, shaking his head. “I barely know you.”

You leaned back slightly in your chair, eyes flickering over him. That’s fair. Trust wasn’t something that could be commanded, especially not in a place like this.

But you also knew what it was like to sit on the wrong side of an interrogation table. To have someone who was supposed to protect you look at you like you were already guilty. To feel like the walls were closing in, no matter how much truth you were screaming.

You swallowed, forcing the memories down before they could surface. If you wanted Morgan to trust you, you had to give him something first.

“Derek… I’m on your side, whether you believe it or not. Not because I owe you one, but because I can recognize someone whose trust was betrayed by the person who was supposed to protect them.” That made him look at you—really look at you. And you hated it. Hated the way he was seeing straight through you.

Being read, being seen—that wasn’t something you allowed often. But Morgan had spent his life reading people, understanding them, profiling them to find the truth. And you had spent your life sharpening your edges, and weaponizing strategically everything you didn’t like. But right now, you were offering him a piece of yours.

You took a slow, measured breath, and even though the room felt too warm, you forced yourself to keep going.

“My parents… my birth parents ran a meth lab in the kitchen,” you said, voice steady, though your hands curled into fists beneath the table. “When I was four, it exploded. I was sent to the hospital with burns, malnutrition, and withdrawal symptoms I didn’t understand. That was the first time CPS got involved. They put me in the system.”

Morgan’s expression didn’t shift, but you saw something flicker behind his eyes. Recognition.

“And if you know anything about the system, you know it’s broken. It fails. It doesn’t protect the people who need it the most,” you continued, your voice steady, but your chest felt tight. “There are cracks in it, and some people…take advantage of that. They play the part, they act like saviors, they pretend to care.” Your voice caught, just for a second. But you forced yourself to push through it. “I know men like Carl Buford. I grew up with one of them.”

Morgan’s jaw tightened. That name—Buford—hit the air like a hammer. You weren’t just asking for trust. You were offering something real. Something raw.

His fingers curled into fists on the table, and for a second, he looked away, shaking his head like he was trying to push a memory aside. But he didn’t deny it. Didn’t challenge you. Because he knew.

“And what happened?” he asked, voice lower now, controlled but heavy.

You exhaled sharply. “I clawed my way out, just like you did, got adopted when I was 8. And when I had the chance, I became the system—to change it the only way it’s possible, from the inside out.”

Morgan let the silence stretch, studying you, his fingers tapping once against the cold metal table. Finally, he let out a breath, something almost like defeat but not quite. “So what now?”

“Now,” you said, straightening, “We stop playing defense.”

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

You stepped out of the room, and though the tremor in your hands had subsided, the warmth lingering on your back remained. Scanning the precinct, your gaze locked onto the person you were looking for—Gordinski.

You strode toward him, your pace sharp, your voice sharper. “Are you going to charge my client with something, or are you just going to keep stalling?”

He smirked, relishing the frustration in your tone. “Miss Woodvale.” The mockery in his voice was deliberate, savoring the way your desperation bled through. “I still have over 40 hours to hold your client as a suspect.”

“Have you found any new evidence? Because all you have is a questionable profile and circumstantial evidence.” You leaned in slightly, wanting to get under his skin.

“We have motive.” He said it like it was a trophy, something definitive, something final.

You let out a short, dry laugh. “No, you have a grudge. There’s a difference, and if you don’t know it, the jury won’t buy it.” You’d seen stronger cases collapse under weaker arguments.

His jaw tensed as he looked down at you, exhaling through his nose like you were an inconvenience. “Look, we have three dead kids and a family that wants closure. We’re just doing our job.”

You knew it was a low blow. You knew it was too much.

“Oh yeah? I wonder where I’ve heard that before?”

That was exactly why you said it.

Gordinski’s expression twisted as realization struck. One of the other detectives snapped at you, voices rising, the BAU stiffened, and you could already see Hotch preparing to apologize—everything was escalating.

Then— “Hey! What, did we turn him loose?”

The tension shifted. The detectives forgot your words in an instant, all eyes snapping to the officer outside the holding room—where Morgan had been.

Chaos erupted. Gordinski bolted toward the room, Dennison scrambled to dispatch patrols, Prentiss and JJ exchanged alarmed glances.

And that’s when you slipped away. Nobody noticed… Well nobody except Reid. He always had an eye on you, even from a distance.

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

The air was cold, and in the rush of the moment, you’d forgotten to grab your coat. But in some strange way, you were grateful for it—the chill seemed to cool the simmering anger that was creeping through your veins as you headed toward the community center.

Morgan walked beside you, leading the way. You kept your head low, ducking behind columns to avoid the patrols that were probably looking for you. The familiar sensation of hiding felt strangely nostalgic—if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine the cup of coffee in your hand as you walked through the campus at Harvard.

After ten minutes, you spotted a small field with the lights still on. A kid was out there, playing football by himself. Morgan moved closer to him.

“Lookin' good there, kid.”

You stayed a few feet behind, not wanting to interfere.

“I was tryin' to call you.” The kid stopped running and looked at Morgan.

“I’m here now.” Morgan spread his arms, inviting and friendly.

“Who’s that?” The kid glanced at you quickly, signaling toward you with a tilt of his chin. Unable to stay hidden any longer, you stepped onto the field and leaned back against the fencing, crossing your arms.

“Someone I trust. One of mine.” Morgan’s bold words were enough to drop the kid’s defenses.

You stayed silent, as invisible as you could be, observing how the kid tensed and relaxed automatically when Morgan mentioned needing to talk about Buford. You never thought you were good with kids—didn’t know how to act around them without overthinking, constantly looking for signs and flaws.

The more they talked, the more Derek described Buford’s manipulative ways, using his influence to make kids trust him only to exploit that trust, the more the freezing air of Chicago couldn’t keep the heat from rising inside you. Your hands curled into fists, squeezing your sides, wrinkling your shirt.

There were so many sick ways people used to reward or control others. Buford used alcohol and false bonds to make kids feel like adults, while others used toys or candy.

“My oldest brother’s in jail. My sister was paralyzed in a drive-by... She’s eight years old, and I’m all my mom’s got left. I gotta get us outta here.”

No kid should ever carry that kind of weight. No child should feel like enduring abuse is the only way out.

“Carl’s gonna make sure I get into college. Then I can make something of myself.” The gratitude in his voice was painful—the twisted sense of owing someone everything for their attention, their gifts.

You closed your eyes and looked up at the sky, trying to keep yourself from walking into the building alone and finishing whatever it was you had come here to do.

“James, you are something, man. You’re something right here, right now, without Carl Buford.” Morgan’s words hit you hard. He was right. James was someone. He was someone. You were someone, too. Despite everything, you were still breathing, still standing.

A tiny part of yourself felt grateful when you heard James had told Damien about what he was going through, that he had been brave enough to speak up and look for someone who would believe him and would do something about it. Damien knew. Morgan connected the same dots and realized who was staging the whole thing up.

Carl. Motherfucker. Buford.

Derek eventually finished talking to the kid and motioned for you to follow him. You didn’t know what his next move was, but you were backing him up. “Derek?”

He turned to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Whatever you want to do, I have your back.” You knew he saw it in your eyes—an intense, boiling rage that had driven you to places both good and bad. He knew that whatever he was going to do next, you wouldn’t stop him or doubt him.

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

He gave you instructions on how to get through the back door of the office. But when you got there, Morgan was already calling him out.

“All these years, I kept my mouth shut. I let you go on being a hero. Carl Buford, my mentor.”

Buford’s back was toward you, and the more he talked, the more the air seemed to thicken with the heat of your rage. Your vision narrowed, blurred at the edges with red. A man. No—a monster. A predator who walked free for far too long, spinning his web of lies, manipulating, violating, ruining.

And he had the audacity to deny it. The smugness in his voice. The complete absence of remorse.

“Whatever lies James told you…” he said so easily, as if that erased the truth. As if that rewrote history.

Your hands clenched so hard they ached. How many lives had he destroyed? How many boys had suffered under his hands? You had seen men like him before—hell, you had been a child under the power of a man like him once. The weight of their hands. The control they wielded. The false kindness that masked something vile.

Your stomach twisted violently as you took in the sight of his office. The trophies. Row after row of gleaming gold, polished plaques. A shrine to his own ego. A testament to the world that this man was trusted, respected, celebrated.

And then you saw it. Dr. Or you think you did

The word burned itself into your mind like a scar. Dr. Calloway. It wasn’t his name, but your hands trembled anyway, your breath coming fast and ragged, and the sirens grew louder and louder. Was it the name? Was it the way the gold glinted under the dim light? Or was it just the overwhelming wrongness of all of this?

Buford was still talking. Still spewing poison.

“How many lives have I provided? Look at you. You’d probably be dead by now.”

Lives.

Lives he had ruined.

Lives you could still save.

Your fingers curled around the base of a trophy—a heavy one, sharp at the edges. You barely registered the name engraved on it as your grip tightened, your knuckles going white.

For a split second, your mind whispered, Do it. The same one that had accompanied you in moments where you couldn’t move. Moments when your body wouldn’t answer to your orders. The voice of that version of yourself that would unleash violence. Do. It.

But then—Morgan. This wasn’t your moment. This wasn’t your fight.

But if he wanted to tear this office apart, you would hand him every single thing worth breaking. You would burn it to the ground and stand there, just to watch Buford scream as the flames took him.

Morgan’s voice cut through the storm inside your head.

“Actually, I’m saying you have everything to do with making me who I am.”

And so did you. Because this rage—this blistering, all-consuming, blood-boiling rage—was just another scar left by men like him. Men who stole, who twisted, who took and took and took until all that was left was ruin.

The sirens in your mind screamed. The voices clawed at your skull, howling for justice, for vengeance, for something more than just words, more than just silence.

Just like the ghosts of the past. Just like the hands of the past. Just like Calloway in the past. In the present.

Calloway. Buford.

"I never hurt you. You could have said no.”

Your grip on the trophy tightened, the sharp edges digging into your palm, but you barely felt the sting. All you saw was red. All you felt was fire.

"You're under arrest, Carl." The words cut through the haze, sharp and final.

Buford barely had time to react before the officers stepped in, twisting his arms behind his back, snapping cold metal around his wrists. He said something—denial, excuses, more of the same filth that men like him always spewed—but it didn’t matter.

It was over.

The red began to fade. The fire inside you simmered, but the embers still burned low, smoldering beneath your ribs. Your breath came in sharp, uneven pulls as you clenched your fist.

Morgan was still staring at Buford, his jaw tight, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

For a moment, you wondered if he felt it too—that same bone-deep ache, the need to destroy, to make it right in ways the law never could. But then he inhaled, long and slow, and you forced yourself to do the same.

He saw the trophy in your hand, and you expected to find judgmental eyes—eyes that would look at you like you were dangerous, like you had lost control, like you were no better than the man they were dragging away in cuffs.

But there was no judgment in Morgan’s gaze. Just understanding. Maybe even something closer to recognition.

Your fingers trembled around the trophy, your pulse still hammering in your ears, but you couldn’t let go. Not yet. The weight of it felt good in your grip, solid and real. It would’ve been so easy—so easy—to swing, to carve your fury into something tangible.

He must’ve seen it in you. The way your shoulders still heaved, the way your jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Morgan reached out, slow, steady. Not to stop you. Not to take it away. Just there.

A lifeline, if you wanted it.

You exhaled shakily, then forced your fingers to unclench. The trophy slipped from your grasp, landing with a dull thud against the floor.

Your hands were empty now. But the fire still burned.

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

Resting against the wall, breathing heavily, you watched as they took Buford away under your intense gaze. Gordinski approached you.

“Your actions could be taken as obstruction of justice, Counselor,” he said, the sarcasm in your title not going unnoticed.

An old man threatening you, just to scare you and gloat himself, a pathetic move, especially now when there were still remains of the fire, not ashes yet. You sighed, as if too tired to deal with him, not even bothering to look his way. “And what are you going to do? Arrest me?” You finally glanced at him. “I have the General Attorney one phone call away, and I could charge you with misconduct and Sixth Amendment violation, which could dismiss the case you have been working for so long.”

You let the words sink in for a second while he remained serious. “You got your guy Detective. Walk away while you can.”

Like in chess, any smart player knows when to retreat. He glared at you but ultimately backed off.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Reid watching. For a moment, you couldn’t help but return his stare. But then, lifting your chin, you towards the SUV, ignoring the strange sting of shame, the kind of shame you feel when you want to show the best version of yourself to someone, only to show the worst. It wasn’t the first time you had talked your way out of a charge, but it was the first time you felt ashamed of doing it.

　　　　　 .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

You and Morgan were the last to board the jet. After last night, you'd talked—just not about the… incident. He'd invited you to the grave of the unidentified child with him and his family, and, for some strange reason, it had brought you a sense of peace. Afterward, you joined the rest of the team on the way home.

You spotted Reid sitting by the window, absorbed in his book. North. South. You weren’t one to judge anyone’s demons, especially when you couldn’t even control your own. Maybe that’s why you sat in front of him. Maybe you were tired of pretending you didn’t want to know what was going on in his head.

When he noticed you, his eyes widened slightly, and his fingers nervously traced the edge of the page. Was this it? Would you confront him? Would he finally have the chance to explain himself?

"Do you think Raskolnikov ever believed he deserved the punishment?" you asked, your voice quiet but firm, meeting his gaze. "Or did he just convince himself he was too special to face it?"

Reid blinked, clearly caught off guard, but after a beat, he answered. "I think Raskolnikov believed he was above it all. That his intelligence and theories made him different. But that’s the tragedy—he never understood that punishment isn’t just about what you deserve. It’s about confronting what you’ve done. The guilt you carry. Sometimes, it’s about having someone who believes in you, even when you can’t believe in yourself." His voice softened with the words, as if careful not to scare you off.

You didn’t break eye contact, letting the weight of his words settle. After a pause, you glanced back down at the book. "Someone like Sonia?"

Reid’s gaze flickered, sensing the shift in the conversation. You weren’t just talking about Raskolnikov anymore. Maybe it was about him. Maybe about you. "Someone like Sonia," he said quietly. "She believed in him, not because he was special, but because she saw his humanity. Sometimes, it’s not about whether someone deserves forgiveness—it’s whether someone else is willing to help them find it."

A quiet tension lifted from your shoulders, and your expression softened, the unspoken understanding between you both almost palpable in the air. North. South.

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By lunchtime the next day, the events of the prior day still gnawed at you. The feeling only worsened when your eyes landed on the basket sitting in the corner of your office, filled with chocolates and candy.

Taking a deep breath, you picked it up and turned to your temporary assistant, a guy covering for Molly while she was on maternity leave. “I’m stepping out for twenty minutes,” you told him.

Basket in hand, your thoughts blurred together as you walked toward the park. It was a familiar refuge, a place where kids and elderly chess players gathered, lost in their games. A little distraction wouldn’t hurt. It would be good for you to clear your mind, and they always appreciated it when you brought baskets like these or treats from your mom’s bakery.

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So we finally see more of reader's past! been waiting for this since i started drafting the story in my mind. You'll know more the next chapter!　　　　 Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3 Tag list: @arialikestea @hellsingalucard18 @pleasantwitchgarden @torturedpoetspsychward @cultish-corner<3

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miserycanary · 11 months ago

Text

WHAT YOU'RE MEANT TO DO ᡣ𐭩

pairing: alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley & workcaholic omega fem!reader

synopsis: you've lived your whole life without any problems due to the status of being beta, and you liked it that way. It doesn't interfere with your work, and suddenly you're informed you're an omega? That can't be.

tags: small arguments, smut like.. actually, dumbification, slight size kink, belly bulge, hair pulling, praise, degradation, breeding kink??, daddy kink, slight overstimulation if you squint, spit kink if you live in delusions

You had a routine you religiously followed. The day starts with waking up at 4, never having trouble getting up because you always look forward to work. You leave the apartment you share with your boyfriend at 5:15— maybe later than that when Simon feels clingy and asks you to stay for that day. You’ll indulge for 5 minutes before pressing a kiss on his chapped lips, promising you’ll come home early for him which seems to satisfy him.

Now you knew something was wrong when you woke up, exhausted, and all your bones weighed like a ton. Thinking back to last night, the clock displayed 10:15 when you finally resigned to bed, even unable to satisfy Simon (which he understood), opting to cuddle with you and nosing around your neck.

Your groan woke up Simon, his muscled figure making the bed creak as he followed your figure almost dragging itself to the bathroom. “Sweetheart?” he calls out, worry evident in his voice. “I’m fine, baby. Just feeling a little under the weather. Nothing some meds won’t fix,” the reassurance slips off your tongue easily despite all the alarms in your mind begging you to rest.

Your breathing got labored as your body tried to function. Your lover seems to have taken your word for it and went back to sleep, making you crack a smile.

Finally, you managed to get ready.. at 5:40. On the way, you could feel stares pointing at you. Did you smell? ‘Did I shower? I.. forgot. No, no... I did..’ you think to yourself, putting your things down on the table and letting your legs rest. “What kind of fucking sickness is this?” mumbling to yourself. Your eyebrows furrow, cursing at the world and complaining about the medicine not taking effect.

Time seemed to go fast but unbearably slow. It seemed like you could only recognize snippets throughout the day. Next thing you know, you hear your boyfriend’s worrying voice coming from your phone. Since when did you call? Nevermind. You hung up. Your mind flashes forward and the bright shine of your laptop looks back. For quite some time, you don’t recall moving, just looking dazed. ‘Water. I need water’ You finally snap back to reality, standing up. The world suddenly swirled and you found yourself on the floor.

‘Oh, shit. I-I need to get up... Fuck, my legs won’t move'

Tears swelled in your eyes, feeling helpless as people started to crowd you. Amid the commotion, a thundering voice booms out, calling for you. “Y/N!” Suddenly, all you could feel was the cool feeling of your boyfriend’s skin on yours. His scent fills your senses. God, you could live off this. “Babe.. why are you here?” you look at him, sighing in relief when you feel his palm pressed against your cheek. “You called me, slurring your words.” His voice was so deep and rough, you thought. Involuntarily, you squeezed your legs when you felt something gush in between. Your period? No, no.. too early. Unaware, everyone seemed to catch up to what’s wrong with you. Everyone rushed to distance themselves from you when Simon held you protectively, hiding you away from everyone and glaring at those who seemed to look at you like prey ready to be devoured.

Before you lost consciousness, all you could think of was you forgot to save your document. Then the next thing you wake up to is your apartment’s ceiling and the clattering from your kitchen with heavy footsteps. You could only assume it’s your boyfriend trying to cook. “Ghost..?” you call out, voice hoarse. In an instant, he was by your side with water in hand. “Hi, baby,” he starts, pushing the glass near your lips. You whine when you can’t even move to take a sip, and he melts at that. With gentleness, he tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back, tilting the glass. “Open,” he commanded, which your body seemed to obey, your mouth opening and letting the cold water relieve your parched throat. As some droplets escape and cascade down your cleavage, you moan as it momentarily relives the heat your skin radiates.

“Love...” your boyfriend starts with the tone you know he uses when it’s about something that will upset you. “You’re required by the doctor to stay home for 2 weeks,” he continues, which finally tips you off. “No! I-I have a project due in 5 days, okay? I just need some paracetamol.” Insisting, you move to get up but you feel your boyfriend’s palm on your waist pinning you down. “No, bunny. You’re staying.” You glare at him in return. A part of you was aware that he was doing this for your sake, but you were too stubborn to let him. “Ghost, stop. I’m not in the mood for any lovey shits, okay? Just let me be,” you snap. Usually, when you get this pissed, he lets you be and just rushes by your side when you inevitably pass out due to over-exhaustion. This time, he doesn’t.

His stare was firm and commanding unlike the usual. Your Simon was soft, always there to clean up your mess. He never forces you to rest nor to listen to him— even if it is for the better. “Bunny, it’s not normal sickness, okay?” he still calmly explains, brushing the stray hair away from your face but you only slap his hand away, still frustrated. Seeing that you’re getting an attitude, he sighs and kisses your temple. “Do you know what your secondary gender is?” At his question, you stare at him like he asked you if you know the sky is blue. “Fucking hell, Ghost. Of course! I told you this the moment we met. I’m a beta, okay? Can you let me go now?” you hissed, attempting to raise his heavy hand of your hand yet he persisted and pressed harder. “No, princess,” he looks away in contemplation. “I rushed you to the doctor earlier, and… your testing was a mistake. You’re a freshly developed omega and it was advised you.. naturally let your heat happen.”

There were a few beats of silence before you cackled, tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah, right, babe. As if. Can you just fucking let me go?” The news of you being an omega sounded fake— because it is, you scoff. “I’m not joking,” he mumbles with a new profound authority. After realizing he was serious, everything came crashing down on you. This couldn’t be. You loved being a beta. It doesn’t interfere with your life. You can’t be an omega. You can’t! No, it’s fake. This was a joke! Heats?? You?? No, no. That’s not true–

“Y/N! Breathe!” Simon’s voice snapped you out of your haze, looking down to see your nails pressed so hard on his skin that’s letting out droplets of blood. Sobs were robbed out of your body, refusing to accept the change in you, yelling at your boyfriend to let you go. His figure immediately wrapped itself around you, pressing your face on his chest and nuzzling your head. “Calm down, bunny. It’s fine... Just calm down,” he soothes, putting his hand under your shirt to rub circles on your burning skin, and trying to get your breathing to match his. His shirt was drenched with tears but he didn’t mind. He muttered endless praises in your ear about how brave you are, and how you’ll be fine because he’s there. Ghost is there for you.

“I’m here, sweetheart” he cooed, pressing a kiss on your ear and laying the both of you down on the bed. He covered you entirely with his figure, protecting you from the world. With a final hiccup, you lose yourself to sleep and exhaustion, settling down and letting yourself be vulnerable with him with his pheromones blanketing your senses as if he’s the only thing there.

Waking up with a gasp, a layer of sweat covered your whole body when your attention was suddenly redirected to the wet spot below you that seemed to seep into the bedsheets. Hot panic took you over and you suddenly felt ashamed. Did you pee yourself out of nervousness? Clamouring, you stumble as you try to wipe the spot away, whimpering when another sudden gush dripped down your legs which woke Simon.

“Sweetheart? What’s up with ‘ya?”

You cry, rushing to his side and throwing yourself at him while apologizing profusely. “I-I’m sorry! Baby, I’m sorry... Please forgive me. I didn’t know!”

“Calm down, calm down.. tell me what’s happening,” his voice immediately calmed you down, your hands still clenching tight on his shirt and sticking your face in his scent gland. In an instant, the strong smell of whiskey, ground, and cigar invaded your nose but you welcomed it. The aroma calms down your nerves and allows you to talk without tumbling over your words. “I-I.. peed,” you mumble in shame that surprised your lover, but it seems the situation clicked in his head and he only responded with a chuckle.

“No, baby... You didn’t pee,” he sighs, grabbing your waist and sitting you sideways on his lap, while he scoots backward to lean on the headboard. “It’s something omega releases in substitution to lube,” he starts his hand slowly peeling away your shorts, revealing your soaked panties. “This is slick,” his finger swipes along the covered lips of your pussy, a string sticking to his pad. He brings his soaked fingers near you when the smell suddenly hit him. You smell like cherry-fucking-pie.

‘Fuck, she smells so sweet. No, I need to be patient. It’s her first heat’ he thinks while he watches your eyes observe with fascination. He nosed around your scent gland taking in your pheromones that sent blood rushing to his dick. His hand pulls your panties to the side to directly flick on your clit, pressing his thumb down and circling. You whimper, holding onto his shirt as your legs instinctively close. Everything was heightened. It felt like you’d come any minute just from your clit getting pressed down.

“Spread them.” As if your body was possessed, your thighs separate, allowing Simon to completely slip off your underwear and press a single digit inside of you. The reaction was instant. Your back arches and your toes curl in pleasure, red chipped nails digging into his bicep, but he was too immersed in watching your pretty cunt take what he gives you to even care. “Good girl,” he praises, pressing his lips against your ear. Tilting your head to the side, you attempt on taking cover on his bicep, but Ghost only grabs your face, tilting it back.

“Daddy needs to hear you, princess”

Your moans got higher as he added another finger and pumped them, borderline abusing your cunt. But you needed this. How else will you take your alpha’s massive cock? Looking down on you, he melts as babbles and whines were the only things you could muster. Your body writhes in pleasure, eyes rolling back in pleasure. “S-Simon! I’m... a-ah!.. close!” Feeling your release climbing, your pussy clenches around his digits while urging him to go faster; just a little more push to your climax. A scandalized gasp was ripped out of you when he suddenly stopped completely. “No, how do you ask to cum properly?” his voice grumbles, squishing your cheeks while your face is soaked with tears. “I wanna cum, Simon. Please please please–” he cuts you off, tightening his hold on your face and pressing his thumb hard on your clit. “No, not Simon.”

With that, you finally realized the key to your release. “Daddy, please. I wanna cum, please. P-put your fingers in again. Daddy, please” you whine, a hand releasing his bicep to place itself on his nape, pulling him down so you can messily press a kiss. Satisfied, he plunged 3 fingers in, forcing your cunt to take it. “There we go. Was that so hard, princess? Was it hard being polite to daddy?” he teases, pressing down on your sweet spot. His tongue licks around your mouth, sucking on the wet appendage and letting his saliva trickle down into yours.

You felt so tight around his digits, and the thought of how you’ll feel around him made his cock ache. The hard-on pressing against your lower back which lifted as the coil inside of you snapped. He watches with adoration as you soak his fingers and the bedsheets, a sense of accomplishment bubbling up inside his chest, making precum dribble out of his tip and stain his sweatpants. “Good girl,” the praise slips off his tongue absentmindedly as he sneaks a hand behind you, untying his pants and pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Still high from pleasure, he manhandles your body to the position he wants. Pushing your body forward so your face is planted on the sheets with your hips resting on two-stacked pillows. Amid pleasure, you got brought back when overstimulation ran through your nerves, feeling Ghost’s cock fill you up, inch by inch. You didn’t even realize when he had taken his bottoms off. The only thought running through your head was him, his smell, his overpowering pheromones, and his cock. God, his cock was driving you crazy.

“Babygirl, you need to loosen up,” he orders, slithering a hand under you to swirl around your clit. “No!.. oh! s-sensitive!” you whine, sobbing onto the pillow. “I don’t care, sweetie. You had your fill, now daddy needs his. Won’t you be a good girl and help me? I promise I’ll reward you,” he mutters, his chest pressing on your back. Driven with the need to be good for him, you let your cunt relax to take him in.

Slowly rutting his hips, he tries to thrust more of his cock inside of you. “Slowly, baby. Breathe for me. There we go. Perfect,” he groans, pressing his forehead on your nape when he finally felt himself completely buried inside your hot, wet cunt. “Such a perfect pussy. You want to make me proud, don’t ya?” You only whine in response, then a loud moan ripped out of you when you felt a subtle bulge on your stomach which got pressed down onto the pillow under the weight Ghost was putting down you. “Fuck, you’re so small, aren’t ya? Such a perfect cocksleeve. What a behaved slut for me.” Without a warning, he snaps his hips, thrusting in and out of you without mercy; like a carnal animal with the intent to just breed. God, this is heaven. This is where he’s supposed to be. With you, inside of you.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, ma” he moans, your voice matching his. “Ah-ah-ah! Fast! Too fa— oh! Too fast,” you sobbed yet it felt so good. Every sense of yours was drowning with the thought of your mate, of Simon. You were so lost in pleasure, hands sprawled out on the sheets and gripping, trying to crawl away from the overwhelming pleasure. Ghost only clicks his tongue, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you back, filling you to the brim again.

“Daddy was too lenient on you huh? Maybe I need to keep you here. You won’t ever need to use that pretty head of yours, worrying about nothing, sweetie. I’ll do everything for you, okay? Your alpha will do everything for you.” You feel him pull back with the tip catching on your rim. As if given a break, you take a breath but suddenly everything was knocked out of you when he bottomed out with one thrust.

“F-fuck, you feel amazing. You just need to be good to me, okay? You just need to be a good mama for our children, stay at home, and let me use your pretty pussy when daddy needs to relieve stress” Pinning your waist down, it was like he actually sees you as a personal cocksleeve, using your body for his own release.

Thrusting faster, Ghost’s moans start to pitch higher, his hand tangling itself in your locks to pull your face from the pillow. Locking lips, he moans louder while pressing down on the bulge in your stomach, helping him get closer from the fact you’re so small— so easily to manhandle and to use freely. Maybe he should actually just keep you here. You won’t need to work. No need to stress that pretty head of yours over trivial stuff. He just needs you to stay with him.

The thought of you being swollen with his baby and staying inside the apartment waiting for him was the final thing that sent him to the edge. His tip spurting out cum filled you up to no end, kissing the entrance of your womb as he buried himself as deep as possible. Your hands scramble to hold onto something, afraid to get lost in the pleasure; scared of being a slave to the mind-numbing pleasure. You dig your nails on his thigh, sobbing and moaning in pleasure as his release triggered another of yours. Feeling so full, Ghost finally stopped cumming and lets you go. His spent body collapsing alongside you in exhaustion. Silence ensued between you guys, basking in each other’s presence. After a while, he got up to grab a towel to clean you up, knowing you’d be insatiable once your omega instincts completely settled.

Feeling his lips kiss your temple, his rough yet sultry deep voice (or maybe that’s just your love for him talking) telling you to relax made you purr. As you watch him take care of you, scrubbing down both yours and his spent off your body got you thinking. Maybe this is where you’re supposed to be. Doing nothing but behaving for your lover, keeping Ghost happy.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: AHHHH!! It's my first full-length fanfic which happens to be my very first explicit and descriptive smut. Please be gentle with the criticisms!! Also, do you guys want a König version? Please comment if yes.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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sweetdispatch · 4 months ago

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The fight - Q. Hughes

masterlist pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader summary: Quinn's girlfriend is turned on after his fight during the game against Kings warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), dom!quinn, dirty talk, degradation, spit, oral (m and f receiving), dacryphilia, spanking, rough sex, swearing note: i forgot to add this and it was saved all weekend in drafts haha enjoy it guys!

„…And Quinn Hughes lost his temper…” That’s all she heard from the tv. The score was showing 3:2 for Vancouver, so she decided to get ready for bed. 5 minutes of the game were left, and she felt confident that Quinn and his team were gonna win this. Although, when she heard the sentence from commentators’ mouths, she froze in the bathroom with her toothbrush in mouth.

She ran back to the bedroom to rewind and see the situation in which her boyfriend lost his cool. When she saw the way Quinn threw Kings’ player into the bands, she felt her cheeks burning. Quinn was the definition of a calm and composed person. She barely saw him losing his temper. She watched this clip all over again. The next thing she saw was Quinn chirping at the guy in the penalty box. All she had in her mind was this fight and him in the penalty box.

Right after the game was over and Vancouver celebrated a 4:2 win, she reached for her phone and sent Quinn a message, “You did incredible today, but the fight?? You’re badass out there, so hot captain”. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She laid in the bed and watched the clips on social media. After two hours, Quinn called her.

“You really enjoyed me throwing the guy into bands?” He laughed. She knew that she’s on speaker when she heard his voice muffled and him packing suitcase.

“Well yeah, I didn’t know you could be that hot”. She said biting her nails.

“Don’t tell me this turns you on”. When she was dead silent, he continued. “You can’t be serious. Me being mad got you on?”

“I… Yeah.”. He giggled. “But in my defense, I never saw you in this way”.

“Oh, what I should do with you now”.

“You can be mean to me too…” Before she could speak again, he interrupted her.

“Princess, you're ridiculous”.

“Why? We can always spice things up in bedroom”. He hasn’t said anything, she felt that it was dumb suggestion. “Or never mind, forget what I said, it was stupid”.

“No, it wasn’t. I just got lost in my thoughts”. He took a deep breath and spoke again. “If this is what you want, we can do it”.

“Oh, I want to”.

“Good… good. Then I expect you to be ready when I get back home”.

“Yes captain”.

“You’re playing with the fire princess”. He already was turned on by the thought of her at his mercy . “I love you”.

“Love you too, can’t wait to see you”.

They hung up and she finally could fall asleep. She set her alarm clock early to get ready. When she woke up, she went to take a shower and shaved her body. After it, she went to their dressing room and picked his favorite lingerie. To make it not too obvious, she put on one of his old shirts and went to the kitchen to make them breakfast. She knew, he’s probably hungry after the trip.

On the other hand, Quinn’ mind was thinking all the time about her words. He couldn’t believe that losing his temper turned her on so much to want to have rough sex. He started to think of the ways to make the most of it and at the same time not to hurt her. There were so many things he always wanted to try with her and now, he saw the perfect opportunity.

When Quinn finally got back home, the first thing that hit his nose was the smell of bacon and orange juice. He dropped his bags by the front door and went further to their apartment. She was placing all the food on the table. She turned and saw him standing in his suit, hands in his pockets. She was already turned on.

“Hi baby, great games in California”. She went to kiss him and placed his hands behind his neck. He grabbed her by the waist and hugged her. His hand went to grab her ass and play with her panties.

“You look beautiful”. He spanked her. “As much as I would love to fuck you, you need to eat because I know that you waited for me. Get your cute butt on the chair and let’s dive in your delicious food”.

She did what he told her. They sat at the table and ate breakfast together. Quinn was telling her how roadie went, and she was telling him about her work. When they finished, she stood up to clean the table, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her on his lap.

“Not so fast princess. We have things to discuss”. He kissed her behind her ear, knowing how much she loved it. “Do you trust me with what’s about to happen?”

“Yes”. She kissed his lips.

“Good. Now, if anything I did will make you uncomfortable, you will tell me, right?” She nodded her head. He grabbed her chin so she could face him fully. “Words princess”.

“Yes, I will tell you. Can we start?” He laughed at her desperation.

“You really turn on, huh? I bet you’re already soaking wet”. He placed his hand in her panties and started rubbing her clit. “Gosh, you’re pathetic. I haven’t done anything and you’re wet. Is the fight really got you going?” She moaned at his words. Quinn never spoke to her like that but she already loved it.

“Don’t tell me that you enjoy when I degrade you”. He said not believing in this but seeing how she blushed, he realized that she enjoys it.

“You’re so simple to read, it’s such a shame that I’ll ruin you today”. Quinn whispered in her ear. He took off his hand from her panties and put his fingers in her mouth. She gladly accepted them and sucked on them. “Bedroom, naked, now. I’ll come in a minute”.

She listened to him and stood up. She went to their bedroom swaying her hips and undressing at the same time. Quinn watched her every move, feeling the bulge growing in his pants. Before he went to her, he undressed by himself, throwing his suit in the bathroom. When he finally stepped to the bedroom, he saw her all naked, kneeling next to their bed.

“How cute. Judging by your position, you want me to fuck your mouth. Am I right princess?” He closed the distance between them and started caressing her cheek.

“You deserve a reward after those games”. She said and grabbed his underwear to take it off, but he stopped her.

“Not so fast. Let me enjoy the view for a bit”. She felt objectified by his words, but she loved this new side of him. She started getting ever more wet. Quinn finally made a move and stepped out from his underwear. “Spit on it”. That’s all he said to her. She obeyed and played with her tongue on his tip. “Open up and start the work”. She took him to her mouth but couldn’t fit his cock. He laughed, seeing her struggle. “Aww, poor baby, can’t even fit my dick”. He mocked her and pushed himself further into her mouth.

The tip of his cock hit her throat. She was gagging around him. Her chin was covered in her spit and tears were falling from her eyes. Quinn looked at her and felt even more turned on. He loved seeing her face so helpless. Before he could release in her mouth, he took off his dick. She pounded on his action.

“You wanted my cum?” He asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She nodded but corrected herself.

“Yes… captain”. She used this phrase on purpose, to see where this will bring her. His eyes darkened hearing her, saying captain in a sexual way. This woke up a new side of him. Quinn pulled her by hair so she could stand up. He pulled her closer to his face and grabbed her throat.

“You shouldn’t have said that”. He whispered to her ear. “You’re gonna regret this”. Before she could react, Quinn turned her around and bent her over the bed. The first slap laid on her ass.

“You think it’s funny?” Second slap. “To call me captain?” Third slap. “Is this some kind of game for you?” Fourth one. “Answer me or have I already made you dumb?” Fifth slap.

“No…” Her voice broke down. “Wanted to see your reaction”. She said all in tears.

He helped her stand up and turn her so she was facing him.

“Poor baby is already crying. Wait until I ruin this pussy”. He kissed her and pushed her on the bed. “Grab your thighs, raise them and keep your legs open”. She obeyed him hoping for him to fuck her. Instead, he played with her clit. “So wet just from using your mouth and spanking. Maybe I should leave you like that. Do you deserve my cock in your greedy pussy?”

“Yes”.

“Then beg for it. Be a good girl”.

“Please Quinn. Do something, I’ll do anything”. She felt humiliated.

“Anything you say? So pathetic”. He pushed two fingers into her pussy. She screamed, not expecting this. The pain soon became a pleasure to her. He was fingering her at a ruthless pace. She was moaning louder with each thrust. “Shut up. You’re so loud just around my fingers”. She tried to keep the noise quiet but couldn’t. Quinn took his fingers out of her. He went to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. She laid her legs on the bed.

“Have I told you to do it?”

“No”.

“Then why did you do it?” He asked, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes.

“I… I thought you’re done. I’m sorry”. She felt ashamed and tried to ignore his eyes.

“I’ll be the judge of when I’m done with you. Good thing you remembered your manners and apologized”. Quinn caressed her cheek and spread her legs open. He put the tip of his dick in her. He pushed his all length into her. She closed her legs out of habit but he grabbed her knees and spread them again.

“Don’t do that or I’ll not let you come”. He threatened her. The thought of not being able to cum scared her and decided to act like he plays her. Quinn was fucking her fastly. He was abusive to her pussy but she loved every minute of it. She was moaning his name like a mantra. This was a motivation for him. He felt her wall tightening around his dick. He knew she’s close.

“Cum”. That’s all that he said to her. She screamed his name loudly when she reached her climax. Two more thrusts and he also cum. He pulled his dick out of her and threw away the condom. Quinn looked at her trying to catch her breath.

“Hey, you alright princess?” She nodded her head, too tired to speak. “You did so good for me. I’m proud of you”. He kissed her forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you a nice bath”. She followed him to the bathroom. Both of them laid in the hot water. Quinn helped her to wash her body.

“You were so hot today. Even hotter than in the fight”. She joked when they left the bathroom and headed out to the living room.

“Thanks”. He smiled. “I still can’t believe that you got all worked up only because I threw a guy into bands. You’re something”. He kissed her temple and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch when she sat on the couch and turned on the tv. They spent the rest of the day laying on the couch, cuddling and watching movies.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes oneshot #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #vancouver canucks #v' work

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nosyrobin · 5 months ago

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|| WHEN UNCLE!READER GETS SICK AND THE BATBOYS HEAR ABOUT IT ||

Coughing, sneezing, raspy voice, achy body. Oh dear, you got a cold. Shaking like a damn leaf on a windy day, you called your brother. Bruce immediately picks up the phone, you knew he was in the bat cave. Hearing the bat-computer keys and talking. You could only roll your eyes as you talked to him. “Can’t make it. I’m sick” you said. He responded it with a “sick? Stay home. I’ll send Alfred to make you some soup Y/N.” You could only nod before coughing a storm up. If you could see your brother now, he would be frowning with concern.

“It’s not….deadly is it?” “What?! Bruce, no. It’s a cold. Yknow how I get.” You said closing your eyes about to hang up and rest. Bruce only sighed for the other side of the phone. “Alright.” “And Bruce.” “Yeah?” “DONT let the boys know I’m sick. Yknow how they get when I’m sick…” sadly they found out. You didn’t know how or when. But of course you knew who found out first.

Tim found out first, first because you didn’t show to the manor on the daily time you always do. Tim notice Alfred picking up your favorite soup you eat when sick when you use to live here at the manor when he was Robin. Tim frowned, you’re sick. You’re sick, alone, withering away in bed. What kind of nephew would he be if his dear uncle is not with company. So with that, he grabbed some doctor gloves, a face mask, hand sanitizer and Lysol. He was prepared. When Alfred went away to secure the packed soup, Tim took the packed up soup and ran out the door to drive to your house.

Jason surprisingly was the second to find out. He lives with you, like a roommate kinda of thing? So why in the world would he be second? Because he was too busy bleeding out in the manor after a fight and he had to stay in the same manor over night before you had gotten sick. Jason had seen Tim run out the door when he came down the stairs. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he also sen that the packed soup was the kind of soup you ate only if you were sick or terribly hungry. But since he knew you weren’t in the manor, he went with the former and immediately dressed up to go see his sick uncle.

Damian, he always knows when something is going on. But he definitely knows when something is going on when he sees his two brothers leave the manor. “Uncle’s sick Titus. Drake has his favorite soup and Todd has his favorite book. Pathetic, they forgot uncle’s heated up blanket.” Damian says with a smirk. Certainly holding it as Titus barks at his owner. “Guess we will pay my uncle a visit, I’ll see you later.” The brown skinned boy said as he pats his beloved dog. Leaving the manor with a shortcut to your house.

Dick was last, and was mad knowing that no one informed him that you were sick! Like cmon, he’s the first Robin and he had more of a bond with you when he was little! So how could his brothers leave him in the dust like that! He immediately got off work and speeded over to your house. He got some of your snacks, a “get well soon” card. And just some flowers, it was perfect. Perfect for the “favorite” nephew of course.

Tim was first at your door and entered using a copy of your spare key, then Jason shoulder rushed Tim like a football player, Damian was going through your window, and dick…dick just stood there watching his little brothers cause havoc. The soup was saved by Damian sliding to catch it, Tim almost had a heart attack as Jason just glares at all the brothers in his “home.”

Damian smirks, ready to get the “best nephew” award by handing you the soup you desire when sick. That was before Jason picked him like a stray cat. “What the hell you’re doing here demon?” “I’m just doing what needs to be done. Helping uncle.” Damian says with a glare. Dick takes Damian out of Jason’s bear grip and then helps Tim up. “Well, arguing isn’t going to help. Let’s just see how unc is doing guys.” All the boys nod in agreement, going inside your room. Tim still looks like a doctor so he was the last one in.

You were surprised, very surprised to see all four of your brother’s kids and your nephews at your house smiling as if they didn’t just break in. You heard them, but you thought you were just hallucinating. Damian gave you the still hot and ready soup on your night stand and your blanket. He wanted to get on your bed and lay with you, but you shook your head no. Not wanting to get him sick. Jason just sat down in a chair you have in your room, watching you closely like a hawk in case something happens. Tim was taking your temperature, asking you about the medicine you have taken. Basically a worried baby worried for his poor “old” uncle. Dick just lays the basket of things he bought for you. Smirking as he made a comment about how he is obviously the “favorite” nephew. That made everyone mad, cue to loud arguing and Damian ready to jump his brother.

As much as the boys loved you, they acted as if you were on your death bed. Which made you kinda mad, but at least they care for you a lot. But the constant arguing was not helping you as headaches started to attack. You coughed loudly as you felt your eyes droop more. You hated being sick, but you mostly hated your peace being ruined.

“Out! Out now!” You yelled with a raspy voice, all the boys stop. Frowning before leaving, except for Jason who stood there with crossed arms. “I live here unc…” you glare before throwing a box of tissues at your buffed up nephew who didn’t seem phased at all. “Not as of now mister, you stay at the manor or whatever you go until I get better.” Jason stayed silent before leaving. Not before putting a bottled up medicine by your bed, with a small note that says “get better.”

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grapejuicenharry · 3 months ago

Note

Hello, how is your day going? I don't know if you are actually receiving requests, if not feel free to ignore this. What about you and Harry fighting in the car, maybe you're coming from a date and Harry was really late, the walk home is difficult with him and you start a fight, so she decides to get out of the car and walk home alone.

(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling errors that may have been made)

a/n: hello! My day is going well, thank u for asking. And yes, I do receive requests. No need to apologize—your english is great!

warnings: angst with a happy ending (sorry I couldn’t leave them like this!)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

It was 9 p.m., and you had been sitting at this restaurant for the past hour, waiting for Harry. Tonight was supposed to be your date night—something planned since last week. You'd even reminded him this morning, but here you were, alone.

It had been Harry's idea to take you out, to spend time together, to simply enjoy each other's company after weeks of him being swamped with studio work.

When he'd suggested it, you were over the moon, practically giddy at the thought of a night just for the two of you. Just boyfriend and girlfriend.

You'd dressed up for him in the sheer black dress he loves so much, paired with your black stilettos that accentuated your legs. Minimal make up, save for the bold red lips that added a sensual edge to your look. You’d spent over two hours getting ready, perfecting every detail for tonight. But once again, you sat... disappointed.

He was late. not just ten or fifteen minutes, but a whole one hour.

Tears started to gather up in your waterline as the waiter approached your table for the third time, politely asking if you were ready to order. You forced a tight smile, declining him once again, murmuring that you were waiting for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but feel like the staff was probably laughing behind your back—this poor woman, sitting alone, waiting like a fool.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t an emergency or unavoidable crisis keeping Harry away. He’d used the same excuse too many times: Got busy at the studio, forgot to check my phone. Honestly, you were tired at this point of always coming second, but you know your pathetic heart will forgive him the second he starts blubbering out apologizes because you loved him—and you know he loved you, too.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

You discretely wiped a stray tear that has rolled down your cheeks as the sound of commotion at the door caught your attention. Your eyes glanced to the entrance, and there he was—Harry, rushing inside, his eyes searching for her.

The second he spotted you, he knew he’d fucked up.

Harry strode over to your table, looking down at you with guilt written all over his face. His shoulders sagged as he spoke.

“Y/N—fuck, I’m sorr—“

You stood up immediately, not wanting to hear a word from him. Grabbing your purse from the table, you turned around and walked away. Ignoring him.

Outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, your hair whipping against your face as tears spilled freely down your cold cheeks. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, desperate to hold it together.

“Y/N, please—listen to me.” Harry pleads from behind her, his voice begging. He reached out to touch your arm, but you instinctively stepped back, putting more space between you.

"Don't,” you muttered, wiping your tears.

Harry froze, his hand hanging in the air for a second before dropping back.

His heart breaks looking at your state, your mascara slightly smudged, your nose red because of crying, and your cheeks red with biting cold. You looked so vulnerable, and yet you wouldn’t let him near you. The realization crumbles him from inside.

“I don’t want to hear anything; I want to go home. Just take me home or I’ll book a cab.”

You whisper, sniffling, your voice hoarse and shaky.

Harry’s throat tightened, but he nodded, silently stepping forward to open the car door for you. Without a word, you slid into the passenger seat. You fumbled with your seatbelt and stared outside the window. not glancing a look over him as he starts driving.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The drive home is suffocatingly silent. The air inside felt heavy with tension and unspoken words. The only sounds were the low murmur of the radio and the faint hum of the engine in the background.

Harry's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The tension was evident as his other hand rested idling on his thigh, occasionally rubbing at his jaw in frustration. He wanted so badly to reach for your hand, to rest his palm on your thigh as he'd done countless times before. But he didn't. He couldn't.

It must have been forty minutes or an hour of driving in silence when you spoke, not able to sit in the tension atmosphere anymore. “Are we not going to talk about this?” You snaps.

Harry exhales sharply through his nose, trying to gauge a response: “What do you want me to say, love?" I said I was sorry.”

Y/N scoffs at his words, her frustration bubbling over. “That’s the problem, Harry. You think an apology fixes everything. It’s not about saying sorry—it’s about not doing it in the first place. You knew how important tonight was for me.”

Harry’s knuckles turn white on the wheel. “I didn’t get time to check my phone. I was so caught up in the studio—“

“Right, the studio.” Y/N interrupts bitterly, “Always the studio. Always something important than me.”

The words hang heavy in the air; Harry’s shoulders stiffen. His lips press into a thin line as he pulls the car over the side of the door, and tires crunching against the gravel.

“What are you doing?” You ask, heart pounding.

Harry throws his car into the park and turns to you, his green eyes stormy and dark. “I don’t know what you want from me; I’m doing the best I can.” His voice was low but sharp.

Your throat tightening at his words, shaking head, “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough.” You whispers, trying to keep your tears at bay.

His eyes flicker, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his frustration, but you can’t take it back now. The tension feels unbearable. Before you could think, You unbuckles your seatbelt and reaches for the door handle.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks.

“Home.” Y/N bites out, stepping out of the car. The crisp air waves through your hair, goosebumps rising in your body. “I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters back before opening the side of his door and stepping outside.

“Ridiculous?” You whirl around, glaring at him. “What’s ridiculous is me sitting there, pretending that I’m not hurt. Whats ridiculous is you acting like this doesn’t matter”

Harry’s chest heaves as he looks at you, searching for the right thing to say, but it doesn’t come fast enough; you turn around and start walking, your heels clicking against the pavement.

You hear Harry calling your name, but you don’t turn around, knowing there is nothing for him to say that would make you feel better—nothing. The chill of air whooshes past you as you hug yourself tighter, wrapping your arms around you, and quicken your steps.

The sound of his boots crunching against the ground, crisp leaves crushing beneath him as he follows you, the sound growing closer and closer, then you hear him say softly.

“Y/N, please..stop."

Against your better judgement, you stop. You stop in your tracks at his words and turn around. Harry jogs and comes closer to you; this time you let him... wanting to feel him close. His face morphs into something more painful than that clenched jaw like earlier. The lines of frustration are replaced by something softer, something that aches your chest.

“I get it,” his voice low, laced with hurt. “You’re hurt. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been late, and I shouldn’t have brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It did; you matter to me.”

The sincerity in his words cracks your heart walls, the river of tears that you’ve been holding threatening to spill over.

"Harry, it's not just about tonight," you say, your voice trembling. "It's about feeling like I'm always coming second to everything else in your life."

His shoulders drop, and he steps closer, his green eyes fixed on yours. "You're not second, love," he says; the words sound like a plea. "You're the only thing that keeps me going half the time. And I know I've been worse at showing that, but I'll do better. I promise you, I will."

You blink at him, trying to brush away the tears. "You say that, but—"

Before you can finish, his hand gently takes yours. "Look at me," he says softly, and when you do, there's nothing but sincerity written all over his face.

"I'll prove it," he says. "Not just tonight, not just tomorrow—every day. I'll make time. For you. For us. You're the most important thing to me, Y/N. I swear it."

His words sink in, warming the cold that's settled deep in your chest. For a moment, neither of you speaks.

Then, his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and you realize how much you missed the warmth of his touch; he gently touches them and kisses each of your fingers softly.

"Can I take you home now?" he asks tentatively, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, the fight in you ebbing away.

"Okay," you whispered.

He lets out a relieved sigh and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'll make it up to you, love. I promise."

362 notes · View notes

kawoala · 2 months ago

Note

I saw you wanted requests, went "I have so many!!", opened ask box.... brain goes blank. Basic ass rq incoming. College au perhaps? Tsukishima Kei who is nicer to you than most people but that still seems like he barely tolerates you. One day you overhear him (how? Girl idk <3) telling his friend(s) that he does wanna ask you out but he doesn't really know you or wtv and he thinks it's just friendly talk between you. Then you have to figure out what to do with this because omggggggg. I just love accidental confessions, I believe in you

𝐊𝐄𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 cinnamon roll word count ; (919) content warning ; (accidental confessions, study buddies, flustered tsukishima, best friend! yamaguchi)

Tsukishima Kei is an enigma of a man. He walks around the campus, wearing those stupid, muted blue headphones, eyes dead set on his destination. He doesn’t talk to anybody, doesn’t stop for the dozens of people searching for signatures for baby seals, doesn’t even acknowledge that other people also attend this university.

And then he gets to his Art History class and all of that nonchalant aura is washed away by the carefree smile on your face. He even smiles back at you.

“Hi, Tsukki!” You greet through a mouthful of food, moving your things from the seat designated for him. He sits down and you push a pink box towards him, wiggling your brows. “How’s your morning been? I brought an extra cinnamon roll just in case it was bad. But I also brought it ‘cause you’re my favorite person in the world.”

He looks at the box suspiciously, eyes narrowed, then looks up at you. You almost start to sweat under his gaze. Finally, he shakes his head and takes the box. “You forgot to do the homework, huh?”

You jut your bottom lip out, putting your chin in your hand, elbow on the desk. “You didn’t have to say it like that,” you pout. You pause, then let your head drop down to the desk with a groan. “I had a really busy night, I swear. I had work and then my roommate wanted to— okay, that’s not the point.” You look back up at him and give him your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Please give me the homework, Tsukki. I’m dangerously close to failing this class.”

You know and Tsukishima knows that ‘dangerously close to failing’ means that you’ve gotten one grade below a ninety percent and you definitely freaked out over it.

“Mhm, I’m sure.” He rolls his eyes, but pulls his laptop out to pull up the necessary items that you need for the homework. “You know, you could just ask me for help, rather than copying off of me all the time.” He turns the laptop towards you, answers pulled up on the screen.

You perk up at this, homework already long forgotten. Leaning towards him, you smile widely. “Are you serious, Tsukki? You’d be saving my life, probably.”

“Not your life, but your education, for sure.”

Later that night, as you’re getting ready to meet Tsukishima at the library, you can’t help the buzz of excitement that runs along your skin. You don’t know why, but you’ve always felt a pull towards him. As soon as he sat down next to you on that first day of class, you knew he wasn’t just going to be that blonde kid from your Art History class.

Thankfully, the library isn’t too far from your dorm. It takes less than five minutes to get there. When you walk in, you’re as quiet as possible. You realized a long time ago that college kids and libraries don’t mix, so you try to go easy on the probably overworked librarians.

Today, Sheila is working. She gives you a smile and points to a corner of the library, where you see a blonde head of hair. He’s not facing towards you, so when the bright idea of scaring him pops into your head, you smile wickedly.

As you tiptoe towards him, you can hear him talking. His phone is up to his ear. Who makes a phone call in a dead silent library?

“No shit, Tadashi. Have you seen her ex-boyfriends? They’re, like, pure muscle. And they’re all tall.” He pauses, then scoffs. “Yeah, I know I’m tall. No, that’s not the point. I just—” he cuts himself off with a sigh. “I’m an asshole, right? Don’t answer that. I just mean that I’m not her type.”

You tilt your head curiously. You wonder who he’s talking about— you hope he’s talking about you. A knot of jealousy festers in your stomach. Your smile falls and you take a step back. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Yeah, she’s on her way right now. No, Tadashi, I’m not going to ask her out. Why? Because I don’t have a humiliation kink, that’s why.”

You blink a couple times. You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up, spilling out of your mouth involuntarily. You smack a hand over your mouth just as Tsukishima whips his head around to look at you.

For a long, drawn out moment, you’re quiet.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Um, long enough?” You provide, shrugging with a smile. “I didn’t know the Tsukishima Kei could have a crush on someone.”

You can see his face get red. “That’s— I just— You’re—”

“Oh my goodness, relax,” you giggle out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I like you too. And, if you were to ask me out, I might just say yes.”

“I hate you.” He turns around and puts his head in his hands, groaning.

You skip around the table and sit across from him. “You like me. You like me so much it makes you dumb. You like me so much that you told your best friend.” You laugh again and lean forward, trying to catch his eyes. “Do you wanna go out with me, Tsukishima?”

His eyes dart to yours, brows furrowing. “You can’t ask me that. I’m supposed to ask you that.”

#kawoala #haikyuu #return to sender #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu!! tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #accidental confession

332 notes · View notes

azzifuddfanpage · 1 month ago

Text

waves crashing

————

title creds @ldapper

Amazing prompt by 🥖anon here! 6.6k words

tw: smut

themes: dating/ angst/ fluff/ smut

————

Day before graduation

———

p💗: hiiii Azzi

Az💗: hi baby

P💗: watcha doin?

Wishin I was wit u rn fr

I know it’s only been a few days but feels like forever

Az 💗: I know baby I miss u so much too

How did we ever do long distance??

P💗: I’m never letting u go home by urself again

Az💗: I know P I’m sorry 😞

I’ll see u Tom for graduation tho!

P💗: ayyyy and then cruise

Can’t wait to have my girl alone ifykwim

Az💗: fuck I was gonna tell you something but I forgot now cuz miss u so bad istg im already wet

P💗: not surprised 🤷‍♀️

(I need you so bad)

A💗: check snap then 😉

P💗: AZZI ICE IS NEXT TO ME

Had to save it so I could look at it privately

Az💗: oh ya? What r u going to be doing when u look at it “privately” 😼

P💗: finna touch myself too it that’s for sure

Need to see u in that new set in person

Bring it to the cruise baby…

Az💗: woah what r u gonna do if I don’t 😩

P💗: oh you don’t wanna do that trust

be a good girl and listen

Az💗: alright mommy

P💗: BEUH

Az💗 I’m sorry u were asking for it with the “good girl”

P💗: don’t act like u didn’t like it

Az💗: 🤭

P💗: I miss u so bad

Wish I was in u were in my bed rn

Az💗: same

P💗: btw ur mom sent me photos of u today

Why she my literal plug 😭

Az 💗: BRO GET OUT

Did she violate me

P💗: that is actually impossible I fear

Ur too cute

Az💗: ur cute

P 💗: gonna be a lot cuter when ur in that tight bikini on the cruise

Az💗: I don’t know how tight it will be if my literary family will be present 😭

P💗: fine guess I’ll just have to take advantage of my time in the room

Az💗: PAIGE!

P💗: ptpom? And cuddle?

Az💗: I’m just gonna ignore that first one

(If ur good)

P💗: alright now who’s the good girl

Az💗: I guess we will have to wait and see

Omg I didn’t realize how late u kept me up

I’m going to bed

P💗: alright big head I’m so proud of u for graduating in 3

My academic weapon 💗

Good night baby I love you

Az💗: same baby

Can’t believe u managed to actually graduate on time when ur illiterate

I love you too P

good night

P💗: lowkey love you a little less after that

Az💗: 😐

P💗: kidding 💗💗💗💗

———

“Azzi you coming?” Aliyah’s voice echoed through the dorm.

“Ya one second, I just feel like I’m forgetting something.” Azzi replied, scanning the room before adjusting her little black dress and fluffing her hair in the mirror.

It was only a few hours after graduation, and Azzi was going out to a grad party with Aliyah and some of the other girls in her communications class.

Azzi had just gotten into the car when all of a sudden her phone chimed.

——

While Azzi was getting ready for the party, Paige had completely set up her dorm room in candles and Azzi’s favorite flowers to celebrate their graduation and especially Azzi graduating in 3.

Paige was amazed by her girlfriend every day, but this was just a whole new level of adoration.

Paige had finally finished setting up, after going right home after graduation.

She had just assumed her and Azzi would have hung out afterward, she didn’t really feel the need to confirm.

But when Azzi didn’t show up after 30 minutes of waiting, she started to get a little confused.

She knew that Aliyah was going to a party with some of the other graduates, but parties had never really been Azzi’s thing, and Paige had assumed that Azzi would have told her if she was going.

——

Back in the car, Azzi checks her phone.

—2 missed calls from p 💗 and 2 texts—

P💗: wya 😼

U on ur way?

Az💗: I didn’t realize we had plans?

I was going with Aliyah to that grad party

P💗: wow alr

Az💗: p?

I’m sorry? Like I didn’t realize u wanted to do something

P💗: it’s fine whatever

I just don’t get why u were all talking about how much u missed me last night and are surprised when I’m upset u didn’t come over.

Like I thot it was mutual but ig not

Az💗: ofc I want to see u, I can come over later!

I’m sorry baby I thought I told you that I was going to the party, I knew I was forgetting something yesterday fuck.

P💗: it’s whatever don’t come over come over idrc

Have fun

Az💗: p come on wtf? It’s not that big of a deal, I just forgot to tell u

I still wanna see u

I miss u

P💗: clearly not enough

Bye Azzi

I’ll talk to u later

Az: paige come on don’t do this

It was a mistake

Why do u have to stress me out like this I wanna see u

Seriously this is stupid

—— read by P💗 ——

Az💗: really paige?

I get that I made a mistake but it’s not like we had actual plans like come on

P💗: fuck az I said idc

Az 💗: why r u being like this

Like why r u tryna make me feel guilty

I said I’m sorry

P💗: im not even doing nothing 😂😂??

Just have fun

Az💗: paige u KNOW damn well ur making me upset

Like how am I gonna have fucking fun with u mad at me

P💗: I don’t wanna fight with u

I alr said I don’t care

Stop being dramatic and let it go

Az 💗: p ur being mean and unfair right now

P💗: I’m going to bed, take it how ever u want but stop texting me so I can sleep.

Az💗: alright paige I’m sorry

I never meant to hurt u

I can’t come over later? I love you.

P💗: nah I’m all set Azzi.

—— read by Azzi——

Azzi felt her heart sink as she shut off her phone. How was she supposed to celebrate when all she could think of was paige.

————

When Azzi woke up, she felt hollow.

She turned to her side feeling the emptiness of the bed where the blonde lump usually laid.

The bed felt cold without her in it.

Azzi’s head was pounding as she reached for her phone, rereading the entire conversation searching for where it went wrong.

She read it three times before sitting up and setting it on her side table.

She had really thought Paige would have texted her before she woke up. Apologizing for overreacting but she was really mad clearly.

At first Azzi felt horrible.

The guilt was strong in her mind. She threw on a pair of Paige’s sweat pants and one of her team USA t-shirts and decided to go for a run to clear her mind.

As the morning stretched to afternoon, Azzi felt her guilt turn to anger.

She was pissed at Paige for not only ruining her graduation night, but for not even caring enough to text her the next day. And she had the audacity to get mad at her for “not caring.”

By 3:00 Azzi was getting stressed. She had showered, even finished one of the books she was reading, but the suitcases by her door lay waiting for her in question.

Azzi and Paige had to leave for their cruise by 4:30 to get there by 8 yet still no text.

Were they even going at this point?

By 4, Azzi was just about to text Paige when she heard her phone buzz.

———

P💗: I’m leaving in 15 to pick u up

—— read by Az💗 ——

P💗: baby?

Is that ok?

Az💗: yup see u then 👍

P💗: bruh

Az💗: don’t call me bruh paige

P💗: why r u dragging this out?

Az💗: u can’t be serious rn?

U haven’t texted me all day.

I have been sitting by my phone since literally ur last text waiting to see if u would text me yet nothing

Like I made one fucking mistake and ur telling me im fucking dragging this out??

P💗: ur forgot we basically made plans i'm sorry i was upset

Az💗: i get that u were upset, but I apologized and wanted to come over

I didn’t even end up going to the stupid party and we both spent it alone cuz you were mad.

Like if u weren’t so damn stubborn this could have been prevented.

U were a different person I didn’t even recognize u

P💗: baby u know I love you come on

Stop with that

Az💗: ya I know P but u can’t just shut me out over something like that it’s not fair.

P💗: okay let’s just talk about it in the car bro

I’m leaving now

Az💗: istg paige if u call me bro one more time I will make u change rooms

P💗: nah no way u change rooms

Az💗: hah if u still think we are fucking ur gonna be really disappointed

P💗: ya we will see 😂

Az💗: I’m literally not even gonna sleep in the same bed as u at this point

Like have fun by urself, hopefully they have a couch or u will be on the floor.

P💗: whatever u say baby

———

Azzi watched as paige’s car pulled into the driveway.

——

P💗: here

Az💗: I’m coming asshole

P💗: damn really not giving up on this are u?

—— read by Az💗 ——

Azzi wobbled out to the car with her suitcase.

Paige watched, getting out of her car, opening the door for Azzi and taking her bag.

Azzi rolled her eyes at her but obliged, letting Paige put her bag in the trunk.

Paige felt a smirk curl onto her lips. She knew Azzi was upset but she couldn’t help herself but think about how good their makeup sex would be now that there was all this tension-not that Paige wanted any of this to happen, she hated when Azzi was upset.

When Paige finally joined Azzi in the car after cramming all the stuff in the car, she handed Azzi her unicorn neck pillow.

“Thanks” Azzi said shortly, tugging it around her neck and leaning to look out the window away from paige.

“Do you have the stuff for your knee?” Paige asked, going through a list she made on her phone of things Azzi can’t forget.

“What about your compression sleeve?” She continued.

“I have everything Paige we can just go.” Azzi sighed, shutting her eyes and rubbing her temples as if to say Paige was giving her a headache.

Paige smirked at the sight of her girlfriend, and her eyes made their way down to her bare thighs. She watches as Azzi lets her legs stretch out, her quads contracting and relaxing as she did.

Azzi could feel Paige's eyes on her.

“I'm not gonna talk to you Paige.” Azzi said even though her heart fluttered knowing Paige was looking at her.

“Fine by me.” Paige said pressing play on her music letting “Love Language” by Sza fill the silence of the car.

The two sat there not talking while Paige drove for the first hour. Azzi kept her eyes glued to the window, avoiding eye contact, as if the passing shapes were the interesting things in the world. Azzi refused to be the first to give in.

An hour later, Azzi lets herself glance over to Paige who was focused on the road.

Azzi felt herself relax at the sight of her girlfriends familiar features, the sharp angle of her jaw, the softness of her blonde hair, the way her eyes glistened under the light of the setting sun. Azzi could smell the tension on her, but she looked away before her glance could be considered staring.

Immediately after looking back towards her spot on the window, she regretted taking that glance as the ache between her legs, that had been unfulfilled since the few days her girlfriend had been absent, grew.

Ironically, Paige too was feeling the heat of the moment. Every glance she would steal at Azzi was filled with pure desire and need. All the anger from last night had converted into something more charged, and when Paige got worked up well…

After another 30 minutes of the car ride, Paige glanced over at Azzi who had fallen asleep, her mouth slightly open and her head tilted back.

Paige’s heart melted seeing her girlfriend in such an innocent vulnerable moment. Paige loved waking up to Azzi’s sleeping face, and not seeing her the past few days made this moment all that much more meaningful. Paige moves her hand over to brush one of Azzi's curls out of her face, letting the pureness of her beauty sink in.

With only an hour left in the car ride, Azzi wakes up a little disoriented, forgetting where she was. She looks around and her eyes immediately find Paige, bringing her complete comfort. She feels a pang of guilt at the idea that her girlfriend is probably tired too after driving the full way, but the guilt turns back to annoyance when she realizes she still hasn’t gotten an apology yet.

Not wanting to give in just yet, Azzi decides to send Paige a quick text.

Az💗: hi

Paige saw Azzi’s name pop up on her CarPlay, she glanced over to Azzi who was still looking out the window ignoring her.

When they pull up to the red light, Paige checks her phone.

P💗: hi

Az💗: i don’t forgive u

That’s why i'm texting you, so u can’t bring this up out loud but

I miss u

P💗: I miss u too baby

Az💗: really? I thot u were mad still

P💗: how could I possibly stay mad at such a pretty face

————

Azzi felt a blush reach her face at paige’s message

————

Az💗: well I’m not done being mad at u yet

But I’m pausing so I can text u

P💗: it’s okay baby u are holding up very well

U look very pretty right now too btw

Az💗: you look pretty too.

Like that shirt on u

P💗: what’s new 🤷‍♀️

Also I got u a grad gift

It’s a surprise tho

Az💗: stop im supposed to me mad at u rn

P💗: hah and yet ur wet instead

Az💗: enough

P💗: So do you forgive me?

Az💗: no

———

The light changed back to green and Azzi put her phone back in the side door.

Paige began cooking up a way to get Azzi to forgive her.

Without removing her eyes from the road, Paige reached next to her side and let her hand drape across the top of Azzi's lower thigh.

She smirked, feeling Azzi's weight shift underneath her, as she ran her fingers dangerously against the soft skin of her thigh.

Azzi felt herself grow needy, the warmth of Paige's fingers spreading to her insides.

Azzi could feel Paige's hand creep higher up her thigh, slowly inching closer to where she needed her most. Paige massaged her skin with her thumb in tight small circles on her inner thigh.

Azzi accidentally let a soft moan slip out as her hand inched closer to her heat.

Realizing she had allowed herself to enjoy this a little too much, she pushed Paige's hand away, stopping it as her hand hovered over the throbbing pressure between her legs.

“Paige.” Azzi warned, as Paige threw her head back against the seat in frustration.

Paige flicked her eyes away from the road to look at her girlfriend.

“Az” paige said, letting her face soften upon looking at the way Azzi’s curious eyes wandered and searched her face for an answer.

“Look.” Paige started. “I am sorry Azzi, i shouldn't have treated you like that yesterday, i wasn't fair.” Paige confessed at a mumble, part of herself not liking the idea of admitting she was wrong.

Azzi sighed, “It's okay baby, I just hate it when you're upset with me.” Azzi softly stated, reaching her hand out and squeezing the blondes gently.

“You didn't do anything wrong Azzi, I just wanted to see you after graduation , and I guess I got a little too wrapped up in the idea that you were coming over and I took it out on you when I found out you had other plans.” Paige admitted. “Also I might have been a little embarrassed cuz I may or may not have lit a couple of candles for you.” Paige sighed, her face blushing.

Azzi, turned her body so she was facing her more directly, “Aw baby youre so cute. But just to be clear i didn't even go to the party, i went home cuz i was so stressed out about you.” Paige felt the guilt rush over her as Azzi admitted that to her.

Paige’s head hung, “I'm sorry you had to leave, I am, honestly, but I just don't get why you didn't want to celebrate with me.”

“Paige, are you serious right now? I literally wanted to come over, and if you had asked you could have come, and i would have said yes in an instant. If you had just sent me a message, instead of trying to guilt trip me, and make me feel bad, I would have been to your house in seconds." Azzi said, reaching up and brushing a strand of blonde hair away from Paige's face, framing her eyes.

“I know azzi, i was acting crazy, i knew you would have come to be with me, i guess it was just the fact that i wasn't the first person you wanted to be with, i dont know it's stupid.” Paige tried to brush off the embarrassment as she said that, her eyes staying focused on the road. Azzi feels her heart melt at the sight of her blonde girlfriend being so vulnerable and open in front of her.

“I am so sorry baby, I just thought it would make sense for me to hang out with the girls from my class since this is probably the last time i'm gonna see them, you know? Like I assumed I would be seeing you later that night. I just feel like you took it a little too far like it was a little toxic idk." Azzi said, watching Paige's face react to it.

Paige felt a little taken aback by Azzi’s comment.

“Az, you know i love you, and you don't even know how sorry i am, i'll never do it again i promise.” Paige said, turning a little to look at her.

Paige moved her hand to caress Azzi’s curls, her finger brushing against Azzi's neck, sending shivers down her spine that was enough to make her want to unbuckle, climb onto Paige's lap, and take her right there. But somehow she managed to maintain herself, and simply said, “better not.”

They spent what was left of the car ride with their hands all over each other. Azzi remained a bit more to herself, but when paige placed her hand on her lap, she moved her hand and let them linger over paige’s, tracing her initials onto her palm.

When they pulled up to the dock, Paige shifted in her seat to turn to the younger girl, her hand still on Azzi's thigh.

“Your family is gonna be here soon?” She asked moving her hand up to sweep the curls back behind Azzi's ear.

Azzi blushes as she pulls out her home to check.

“Ya, they said to just go on without them and they would meet us for dinner, they are running a little late apparently Jon forgot his suitcase.” Paige giggled at the reminder of her family dynamic, the one she had always felt so welcomed to.

“Alright pretty, you stay here, k?” Azzi nodded in response, watching as Paige left and went to the trunk to grab their bags, and lug them over to the boat's entrance. She went back and opened Azzi’s door, but as she walked, Azzi couldn't help herself but gawk at the way Paige's sweatpants and how low they hung on her hips, the veins in her hands, and the way her long nimble finger wrapped around the bag she was holding.

Azzi gulped when Paige opened the door.. Fuck she was horny.

Paige’s hand rested on the small of her back as she led her towards the entrance of the cruise ship, azzi paused, turning to look Paige in the eyes.

“Thank you for bringing our bags in and driving, I appreciate it. But.” Azzi looks away as the last word comes out, Paige eyes her cautiously, “but what azzi?”

“I am still a little annoyed with you though, just warning you.” azzi said, which surprised her as Paige's tense body relaxed.

Paige turns her and lets her hand pull azzi in closer to her side as they stand in the line to board. Her hand slides down and wraps around the front of her, resting just below Azzi's belly button piercing, the other one moving down to squeeze her ass.

Azzi blushed, swatting at her hand, but her actions juxtaposed it, leaning back into page letting her warmth absorb her.

“I feel like you won't be saying that later.” Azzi feels her breath hitch as Paige's voice is sharp in her ear.

“Yeah?” Azzi gulps, her hand reaching back and coming in contact with the exposed skin between Paige's pants and her crop top.

“How long do you really think you will hold out Azzi?” Paige questioned dominantly.

Azzi chose to leave the question unanswered as she created some distance between them when walking in.

When they reached the check in desk, Azzi could feel Paige's hands wander over her body. Azzi, who obviously was much more organized than Paige, checked in, providing the receptionist with the details of their trip, and the other people in their party that would be arriving later. Azzi tried to keep herself focused, but Paige was making it pretty difficult, her fingers tracing over her back, her eyes burning into the side of her head as she conversed with the lady who was checking them in.

When the lady turned around to get them their room keys, Azzi turned to look at Paige, who was already staring at her puffy lips, licking her own and smirking at her. Azzi’s heart rate sped up, and she knew she would have to get her back for pulling this little stunt on her.

Azzi leads them to their room, and Azzi forces Paige to carry both of their bags so she would keep her hands away from Azzi’s body. As the two of them open the door to the room Azzi begins to take herself at home, unpacking her clothes, while Paige on the other hand starts walking around the room, looking in the shower, at the beds, and even on the balcony.

Azzi gives her a look as if to say “What are you doing.” and paige knowingly responds “sorry im just looking to see all the places i could fuck you in.” Paige smirked, walking up behind Azzi and trailing her fingers along Azzi’s arm. Azzi rolled her eyes and Paige whispered in her ear,

“Common Azzi, i said i was sorry, didn't know it would be a crime for me to wanna celebrate graduating with my girlfriend.” Azzi is silent, taking it in as Paige's hands trail down her arms and clutch her hands swinging them slightly.

“Just wanna have a nice time on this cruise with my girl.” She continues smiling at their reflection in the mirror in front of them and licking her lips as she moves her head to lean on Azzi’s shoulder.

Azzi studies her face and neck, she can tell she wants her bad, and Paige is not even trying to hide it.

Azzi on the other hand, although better at hiding it, needed her just as badly.

Paige tilted her head so her lips brushed against Azzi's neck, traveling upward and pressing an open mouth kiss on her dimple. Azzi’s hand found its way to Paige's shoulder, as her heart fluttered.

Paige knew she had her in a choke hold and kept going, “didn't mean to treat you like that baby, i just wanna be near you all the time, i can't help it.”she whispered against her ear, letting her lips brush against it.

Azzi walks back a few steps towards the bed, before she goes to sit down. Paige follows her like a lost puppy, seductively pulling Azzi’s legs apart so she can stand between them.

Azzi looks up at her with wide eyes full of desire as she puts her own arms on either side of her hips on the bed. Azzi leaned her head back making eye contact with Paige, staring at her with needy hooded eyes. As azzi leans back, her jaw clenches, showing off the sharpness of her jawline. Immediately,the wetness between Paige's legs becomes overwhelming, and Paige is unbelievably aware of the switch azzi has just made.

“Ima make it up to you baby, do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”Azzi doesn't respond, but Azzi keeps her eyes on Paige. Looking up at her with her head tilted as if to say, “yeah?” biting her lip and looking down at herself all spread out for paige.

“I'm gonna get you so right baby? Paige says as she leans down tracing her finger along Azzi’s thick muscular thighs. She licks her lips, smirking down at her girlfriend. “Just forgive me baby.” she whispers, watching as Azzi adjusts herself so she is propped up on her elbows with her body more accessible. She moves one of her hands to slightly fist at the hem of her shirt with an overtly innocent look plastered on her face. She felt like Paige had had enough of her teasing.

“I don't know paigey, you made me really upset you know.” she said, dragging out the last letter so her tongue would trace her lips slowly, still looking up pouty.

Paige moved her hand to the soft skin of Azzi's neck, stroking it gently. She brings her other free hand to tilt Azzi's jaw up, her thumb on her puffy bottom lip.

Paige leans forward, “I'm so sorry princess, I love you baby lemme do you right please.” she whispers into her ear, flicking her eyes to watch azzi-who thought she couldn't be seen- as she bites her lip letting her eyes roll back into her head.

Paige raises back to her full height, peering over azzi with a knowing smirk as she pouts up at her, both of them fighting intense aches in their cores.

“You want me so bad? My sweet girl, so innocent huh? Paige says tugging at azzi’s plump bottom lip.

Azzi nods innocently, smiling.“Keep going.” she whispers.

Paige knows exactly how to rile her up.

“Such a beautiful girl, mmm drives me crazy,” Paige groans as Azzi takes off her hoodie, her eyes focused on Paige's, going back to her position to let Paige continue.

“Mhm, that's it baby, such a good girl for me huh?” she says as Azzi stands up to slide off her pants, taking her time turning around so Paige can take it all in.

By the time she is sitting back at the edge of the bed, Paige's mouth feels dry, and her pussy feels wet.

“My smart girl. graduated in 3 years didn't you?”Azzi nods and puts up her foot to make Paige slide her socks off for her.

“Whatever you want princess.” She smirks as she leans forward and delicately pills them off.

Paige can feel the sweat slide down her back as the tension builds between them.

“So fucking perfect, just wanna fuck you all the time.” Azzi's expression contorts into a teasing “really?”. And Paige doubles down “can't even control myself.” she says as her hands hover over the brunette's body.

Paige lifts her leg to peel off her other sock, highlighting the swell of her ass.

“Mmm that fat ass too.” Paige groans as she feels herself get wet. Her head is spinning, and Azzi, who is now only in a t-shirt and panties can tell.

Azzi lifts one arm and slides it behind Paige's neck to pull her in towards her lips, letting them brush against her ear, “ok baby, i forgive you.”

A smirk spreads onto Paige's face as azzi continues, “Wanna take this off me baby?” she asks with need dripping from her core.

“Fuck az.” Paige groans, licking her lips eagerly as she leans forward to gently pull the shirt over her girlfriends head.

Azzi leans back slightly now that she is fully exposed, her lingerie in full view, she separates her legs smirking.

Paige’s jaw drops in disbelief as her parted thighs revealing a new pair of lingerie.

“What happened to me sleeping on the couch huh?” Paige questioned as she studied the brand new red set that displayed Azzi's perky breasts, her toned stomach, and her piercing that shimmered under the light.

Considering that they had just had an argument, and only had just made up everything clicked when she saw Azzi's state all laid out for her.

Paige tips her head backward to stare at the ceiling shaking her head while rubbing her jaw and letting out a groan that makes azzi giggle.

Azzi, still staring up at her girlfriend, waiting for her to make a move, holds both of her hands now as they make eye contact,

“Wow so you just been tryna rile me up all day huh? You're such a freak Azzi Fudd.” Paige tuts with a smirk.

“Paigeee” azzi whines, “what are you talking about sweetie?” she replies innocently, tugging at her shirt, pouting.

“You dont wanna touch me baby?” she asks and Paige can barely believe it's a real thought in her head.

Paige leans her head down to Azzi's ear, her hand resting lightly on the back of Paige's head whispering, “enough baby, you know imma touch you.” Paige says, her lips attaching to the soft spot under her ear. “But you gotta promise you're gonna be a good girl for me though ok? Can you do that Azzi?”

“What if I don't wanna.” Azzi admits watching as Paige shakes her head in disbelief.

“I think you're gonna wanna be good. Cuz you know im gonna fuck you so good.” paige says, watching as Azzi’s eyes scan down her body.

Azzi’s hands travel up under her shirt, rubbing up and down on her bare stomach.

She lets out a breathy moan, “Paigey?” she starts.

Paige looks down at her, shuddering under her touch.

Azzi continues to caress her lower stomach and whispers, “I promise I'll be a really good girl for you Paige,” batting her eyelashes innocently.

“Yeah? didn't take much convincing huh? Need me that bad princess? Want me to fuck you good?”

Azzi nods, standing up and wrapping arms around Paige's neck, hand gripping the back of her head pulling her into a kiss. Their lips connect with an absolute fire, the tension from the past day spilling out between their lips. Azzi licks at Paige's bottom lip, and Paige sucks in her tongue as her hands travel down to rub her ass.

“Missed you bad.” azzi says when they finally pulled away, lips puffy and swollen, eyes hooded with desire.

The blonde smiles and connects their lips again, the passion overflowing as Paige bites and pulls on her bottom lip.

Paige’s lips travel down, leaving small open mouthed kisses from her jawline, and traveling down to her neck.

She licks a long stripe down Azzi's stomach, outlining her abs before stopping at the band of her panties.

Paige hooks her finger into them, letting them fall to the floor.

Azzi looks down to watch the way Paige looks at pussy like she has been starved for years. Paige gets on her knees, so she is the one staring upwards a t her beautiful girlfriend in front of her.

She separates Azzi’s legs gently and reaches her finger up to spread apart her tan folds, exposing the soft pink of her clit.

“Prettiest pussy in the world”, she shakes her head, continuing, “she belongs to me.” Paige says to her pussy as Azzi smirks, “all yours. Now pls touch me, I need you so bad." Azzi whines pushing at Paige's head.

Paige wraps her arms around the back of Azzi's thighs to stabilize herself, as she presses her tongue against Azzi's pussy, running it through her folds and picking up her slick. Azzi moans against the contact, pushing herself farther against her.

Paige’s hands travel up to cup Azzi's ass, squeezing and listening to Azzi let out a soft moan. Paige’s tongue digs deeper against her, finding her clit and swiping against it.

Her tongue flicks back and forth, and Paige transitions between the flicks, small tight circles, and sucking at it, releasing it with a pop.

Azzi moans loudly, her hand tangling in Paige's hair as she pushes her girlfriend closer so her face is suffocated by her cunt.

Paige goes down like she hasn't eaten in months, licking at her, sucking at her, even running her teeth gently against her.

“Love the way you taste baby.” Paige says pulling away gently to catch her breath and shove Azzi onto the bed.

Azzi moans as Paige climbs on top of her and flattens her tongue against her clit, lapping at it gently. She moves her head down, licking from her clit down to her entrance.

Azzi can feel her pussy clench as Paige runs over her entrance teasingly with her tongue.

“Please fuck-want you inside of me” Azzi says desperately and paige just smirks against her pussy.

“What's the magic word,” Paige teases, her finger running through Azzi's slick. Azzi doesn't even have the chance to answer, as she pushes Paige's tongue into her.

Paige lets it slide, and fucks her with her tongue, letting it plunge in and out of her. Azzi moans loudly as her tongue squelches against her walls, the feeling of the warmth was too much for her, and after only a few minutes of Paige's pounding into her, she is a pile of moans.

“Fuck im close Paige.” she moans.

Paige pulls her tongue out of her and flips them over so Azzi is sitting on her stomach.

Paige wraps her hands around Azzi's ass and scotts her up so her pussy is now hovering over her face.

“Sit,” Paige says dominantly. And Azzi looks a little self conscious at first, not wanting to completely crush her, but eventually the desire between her legs is too deep, and Paige's strong arms pull her down so she is now riding her tongue.

Azzi moans loudly at the new angle, feeling Paige's tongue hit against her g spot as she fucked it into her. Azzi was grinding down on her, feeling Paige's nose brush against her clit.

She moaned,her walls beginning to tighten and her pussy sucked up Paige's tongue as it bobbed in and out of her.

“Gonna cum Paige.” she moaned her hands coming around on either side of her, her tits dangling in Paige’s face as she continued to fuck her through her orgasim.

Soon enough Azzi’s white syrup was pouring out of her and paige was drinking up every last drop, fucking her through it.

Azzi flopped off of her face so she was laying next to her.

They lay there for a moment catching their breath.

“You ready?” Azzi asks eagerly, laughing as she notices the cum on her nose, leaning forward and licking it off.

“For what princess?” she asked, but Azzi was already straddling her and sliding off her pants.

“My turn to show my remorse.” Azzi smirked as Paige let out a breathy moan as the cool air hit her wet cunt.

“All this from eating me out? You really are whipped.”

Azzi wiggled herself down, situating herself so she was between her legs, aligning herself with Paige's core.

She starts to place gentle kisses on Paige's inner thighs, feeling the heat radiating off of her.

She placed a kiss on her pussy, before spreading it open with her fingers and licking a long strip through her. She lapped at her clit in soft kitten licks, taking in the taste of her arousal.

Paige moaned, running her fingers over the back of Azzi's neck, tangling them in her hair.

Azzi ran her finger through her wetness, letting it get completely soaked, before she fucked it into her listening as paige moaned at the contact.

Azzi continued fucking the one finger into her, her tongue flicking against her clit.

Paige moaned, desperate for more contact.

“Please more. Need more princess. You're so good to me.” Paige praised, as she pushed Azzi's mouth against her clit with more force, so she was now sucking on it.

With Paige’s words, Azzi added two more fingers, fucking them in and out of her at a fast rhythm while Paige shoved her face into her cunt.

“Fuckkk.” she moaned, throwing her head back as she felt her walls start to suction around Azzi's fingers.

Azzi pressed down her other hand on Paige's lower stomach, causing her walls to release, and her orgasim to spill over her with a loud moan, her cum spilling out onto Azzi's fingers.

Azzi fucked her through it, not stopping until Paige was squirming underneath her.

“Who's the good girl now?” Azzi asked smartly, as she ran her fingers through Paige's sensitive clit.

Paige, who was still tired from just having Azzi’s fingers pound in and out of her, was not willing to give up that easily, she moved Azzi's fingers away from her clit towards Azzi's mouth. “Still you.” she said as she shoved them into Azzi’s mouth, melting a little as Azzi held eye contact with her and sucked Paige's juices off of them.

—----

An hour or 2 later, after the girls had finished unpacking, and getting ready for dinner, they met Azzi’s family down by one of the cruise restaurants.

“You look so beautiful tonight.” Paige said as they walked down the stairs towards the door.

“You do too, baby.” Azzi smiled, and Paige poked her dimple lovingly.

Making their way over, they finally spotted Azzi's family in the distance. They all exchanged hugs, and stories before finally making their way into the restaurant.

“Mrs. Fudd.” Paige said, pulling out Azzi's chair for her.

“Thank you Mrs. Bueckers.” she mocked as she sat down.

The night was filled with laughter and stories of Azzi's childhood, the team next year, classes, and just day to day anecdotes.

Paige couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else than with this family, at this table.

Paigee loved every part of Azzi, from her family, to her, to the way she would refuse to let either of them bring their phones when they snuck away to one of the islands, or when she would force Paige to watch Frozen with them in the room before they went to sleep the second night.

Paige knew Azzi was the one for her, from the minute she saw her, and no fight they could ever have would ever change that.

#pazzi #azzi and paige #azzi x paige #paige and azzi #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fluff #paige x azzi #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #paige bueckers smut

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httpdwaekki · 6 months ago

Text

movie night | s.c. ft b.c.

summary: after a rough day all you wanted was a movie night with your favorite boys, but when they forget it feels like you’re world is crumbling.

wc: 2.1k

warnings: hurt/comfort, fem!reader, gendered terms of endearment (sweet girl, baby girl, etc.), crying, meltdown.

a/n: i kinda got lost in the sauce w this one but week three wooo!!! don’t forget to check out @straykeedz versions!!! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

(i tense switch alot during this, i wrote it half asleep most of the time, i’ll edit it eventually lmao)

my library | bee’s vers | bee | binnie month | fundraiser

(pictures not mine! credit to owners!)

you were having a terrible day, nothing was going right and the only thing keeping you from completely breaking down was the movie night you had planned with your boyfriends.

8 o’clock came and you were all set up in your living room with snacks, blankets and of course wolf chan and dwaekki. you were sat on the couch, barely containing your excitement for the night ahead.

but then 8:15 came and you were still sat there alone, and then 8:20 you decided to send them a gentle reminder.

from sweet girl <3:

hi my loves, i’m all set up for movie night whenever you guys are ready 🖤

but 8:30 rolled around and then 9:00 and by that point you had sent several texts

from sweet girl <3:

i’m assuming you guys are still at the studio, just let me know when you’re on your way! love you guys 🖤

it’s getting kinda late, i hope everything’s okay, love you both very much 🖤🖤

i hope everything’s okay, but it’s getting late so i’m heading to bed, we can do movie night another night, goodnight my loves

now it’s 10:00, you had a terrible day and now the one thing you were looking forward to fell through, you were defeated. at your last texts you moped into your room needing nothing more than your warm bed and comfort movie.

luckily you had already put the snacks away after an hour of waiting realizing they probably forgot. once cozy in bed, you put monsters inc on your tv and pulled the two stuffies to your chest.

it was at this point the realization of what happened hit and you couldn’t stop the breakdown that followed. tears streaming down your face, breathing terribly uneven, and incoherent words falling from your mouth.

“they- they forgot about me.” you whimpered, hugging the plushies impossibly closer to you. the hoodie from changbin that usually helps calm you down, was now just a painful reminder of the two missing people.

you ripped the article of clothing off in an attempt to calm yourself, throwing it across the room. you settled back into the soft mattress, placing the gray and pink plushes to the side, opting for your soft blanket to calm yourself.

luckily after a few minutes your comfort movie had worked it’s magic and you felt yourself relax enough to finally fall into dreamland, tears drying against your skin as you slept.

unbeknownst to you, your boys were scrambling 15 minutes away in the studio. the producers had a habit of locking up their phones during their working hours to limit distractions but unfortunately that caused them to also forget about the plans they made with their favorite girl.

“oh fuck, hyung we gotta go, like now.” changbin shot up out of his chair once he realized the time. they were supposed to be at your apartment 2 hours ago to start movie night. “huh? what, what happened, what’s wrong?” trying to figure out what could’ve pulled such a reaction from the younger boy.

“look at the time,” he points to the time to emphasize his statement. “oh fuck,” the older of the two’s eyes goes as wide a saucers, whipping his head to the former. “we were supposed to be there 2 hours ago.” bin nods his head before moving to shut everything down.

“okay, okay, relax bin, let me save everything, you pack everything up then we can leave, okay?” changbin nods, realizing he’s right, this will all be completely in vain if they lost everything they were working on.

in the midst of gathering their items, changbin finally looks at his phone where he finds all the messages you sent, the last one being sent 15 minutes ago. he quickly texts out a response, hoping you hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

from binbin <3:

princess we’re so so sorry, we got caught up in work, we’re packing and heading to you now. we love you so so much baby. 🩷🩷

he puts his nail in his mouth, gnawing on it anxiously as his leg shakes. after saving all the files and shutting everything down, chan turns back to find a very anxious changbin staring at his phone.

he makes his way next to him, placing his hand on the shaking leg. “hey, what’s going on?” he asks gently. changbin looks up, unshed tears line his soft eyes. “she texted us 11 times.” his breathes, shaking his head, showing him the phone screen.

“and we ignored every single one of them. what if she was hurt? what if something happened? we would’ve never known” he rambles, sending himself further into a spiral.

“hey, hey,” he gently grabs the younger’s cheek, “she’s safe, she’s home in bed asleep,” his thumb slowly stroking his cheek, soothing the anxious man. “we’re going to her now, everything will be okay, okay?” bin nods his head, closing his eyes, letting a stray tear or two run down his cheek.

chan wipes the tears before placing a soft, loving kiss to his temple. “okay, let’s go see our girl.” chan smiles, grabbing his hand pulling him up with him.

once they made it to your apartment (not without breaking a few traffic laws), they let themselves in with the spare key you made them. quickly discarding their shoes, practically running to your room but not without missing the wrapped up snacks in your kitchen or the discarded blanket pile on your couch.

changbin pauses, guilt clutching his heart as he sees your discarded preparations. “come on.” chan quietly ushers, pointing to your room with a quick movement of his head. bin is quick to follow, needing to see you as soon as possible.

chan opens your door, finding a sleeping lump in the middle of your bed and none other than monsters inc playing softly on the screen. that alone told them everything they needed to know but then the thrown hoodie on the floor and two plushies laying next to you instead of clutched to your chest?

they knew they messed up, big time. bin went to rush to you, to wake you up and apologize profusely but chan stops him. “hold on, you might scare her.” bin nods understanding that even though he means well, you were in a very fragile mental state.

the older man carefully sits on the side of your bed, placing a hand to your shoulder. it was only then did he catch a glimpse of the tears stains dried to your chubby cheeks. his breath hitches, causing changbin to look after, catching sight of the same thing, his eyes filling with tears once more.

chan holds out his hand to give him a quick squeeze and a kiss before turning back to the problem at hand. he lays his chin on your shoulder, softly rubbing your arm to coax you awake.

“sweet girl,” he whispers, placing kisses to your shoulder, trying to wake you up as softly as possible. “wake up baby girl.” you slowly come back to consciousness, realizing that there was someone touching you.

you would have been scared if you didn’t recognize the familiar aussie voice. chan sits back as he feels you stir, bin coming to sit beside him, placing a hand to your thigh.. you turn to find your boys looking at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

you feel the familiar sting behind your eyes but you quickly rub your eyes, masking your tears. “hi” your voice quiet, sleep lacing your voice. “hi sweetheart.” the aussie coos, “hi bunny.” bin whispers, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs soothing him you.

“we’re sorry baby, we completely lost track of time, and we put our phones away so we didn’t see you texted, we’re just- really sorry bubba.” you nod, willing your tears away before you spoke.

“it’s okay, i understand.” you say lowly, fidgeting with the soft material to keep your composure. but try as you might the two boys knew you all too well.

“no it’s not,” bin finally speaks, causing you to catch a glimpse of him. two streaks shine on his soft cheeks against the glow of the tv, caught your eye. you sit up, moving chan, attempting to reach changbin.

“it’s not okay, we knew we had plans with you today, and not only did we miss it, we ignored you-” you cut him off with a kiss, your hand coming to wipe the wet streaks away. you pull away, your own tears making their way down your chubby cheeks.

“i am upset, but i’m not mad. i just had a bad day and this was the one thing i was looking forward to and it was just the final straw.” pause, sniffling as chan grabs the hand still in your lap.

“i was inconsolable and your hoodie and the stuffies just felt like a reminder of my bad day.” you look down, your hand falling from the soft man’s cheek to your lap, where he grabs your hand. you hear a sniffle, cause your head to shoot up where you find them both with wet streaks on their cheeks.

your lip wobbles as you see your boys upset, you shake your head frantically. before you can even open your mouth, chan shakes his head before moving behind you, pulling you to his chest. binnie moves to sit in chan’s previous position, placing a soothing hand on your thigh.

“do not apologize, you did nothing wrong, us being upset or missing movie night is not your fault, nor is it your problem to fix.” he whispers in your ear, rubbing your soft tummy. your lip wobbles again, dropping your head into your hands as you sob.

bin moves to wrap his arms around you, bringing you to him as best he could with you against chan. they knew you were upset and the best thing for you was to let you cry it out as heart wrenching as your sobs are.

they just hold you as you calm down, binnie rubbing your back, placing kisses to your temple. chan rubbing your tummy, placing kisses to your shoulder.

you pull away once you feel calm enough, wiping your tears as you sniffle. “thank you, both of you, i love you both more than you know.” you give bin a kiss first before turning around as best you could, doing the same to chan.

“come on, let’s get you to sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning, sweet girl, okay?” he pats your tummy, waiting for you to nod your head before moving the blankets to give you space in the middle of the bed. you carefully move over, shivering as you land on the cold side of the mattress.

both boys get up, chan rounding the bed to get to the other side while binnie goes to grab his discarded hoodie. he makes it back to your side as chan sits on the edge of the bed.

“sit it up for me quick bunny. “ he says, kneeling on the bed, scrunching the fabric. you sit up, lifting your arms so he can slip the familiar fabric over your head. once you slide your hands through the sleeves, the hood covering a part of your face.

you give him a cheesy smile before shooting out to wrap your arms around him. he wraps his arms around your shoulders, placing a big kiss to your hood covered head. “mwah!” he plops down next to me, getting comfy under the blankets.

you adjust the hoodie a bit before leaning against the plush pillows. chan lifts up the two stuffies, placing them to your chest, wrapping your arm around them. you smile once again, rolling over to place a big kiss on his cheek.

once you settle back into the bed, they both wrap their arms around you, making you feel safe and secure. “good night bubba, we love you,” chan whispers in your ear before placing a loving kiss to your soft cheek. “so so much bunny.” binnie finishes, placing a kiss to your other cheek.

you melt right into their arms. you get comfortable, turning on your side to face binnie, laying your head on his chest, grabbing chan’s arm to stay around you. “i love you both too, more than you know.” you mumble, placing a kiss to bin’s pec and chan’s hand.

you all melt into each other, relaxing slowly as sleep welcomes you, the soft sounds of monsters inc playing as you all lay peacefully in each other’s arms.

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woso-story · 2 months ago

Text

Meeting By Chance - Part One

Leah Williamson x Reader - Part Two Three

London’s familiar rain pelted down in a steady rhythm, the kind of drizzle that seemed to define the city’s atmosphere. Leah pulled her hood tighter around her face, her training bag slung over one shoulder. The day at Arsenal’s training grounds had been relentless. Every pass, every drill, every tactic had been scrutinized under the pressure of upcoming Champions League group-stage matches and critical league fixtures.

Her muscles ached, and her mind churned with strategy and self-critique. All she wanted now was the small comfort of her favorite coffee shop—a warm drink to cut through the cold and the ever-present stress.

Pushing open the door, she barely noticed the soft jingle of the bell or the inviting hum of conversation inside. Her thoughts were elsewhere, her gaze cast downward as she muttered, “Bloody rain, as if today couldn’t get any worse.”

She didn’t see you.

You were just stepping out, your coffee in hand and a desperate hope that the caffeine would salvage your miserable day. Between your boss’s unreasonable demands and the train delays that had made you late, you were already on edge. And now? Now, there was coffee splattered across your favorite sweater.

The collision felt almost cinematic in its chaos. Your gasp echoed as the hot liquid seeped into your clothes, spreading rapidly. You stared down, utterly frozen, as the reality sank in—your sweater, your jeans, even your shoes, all ruined.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The blonde woman in front of you was already babbling, her hands darting to grab napkins from the counter. Her hood had fallen back in the commotion, revealing striking blue eyes and flushed cheeks. “I wasn’t looking. I—this is completely my fault.”

You looked up, your frustration bubbling to the surface. You were about to let loose, to say something about how people needed to pay attention, when you stopped.

She was breathtaking.

Even as she clumsily offered you tissues, her features were a mix of elegance and sincerity. Her eyes held yours, wide with concern, and for a moment, you forgot about the coffee dripping from your clothes.

“Here,” she said, pressing the napkins into your hands. “I—I can’t believe I just did that. Let me help. Please.”

You took the tissues, though you knew they wouldn’t save your sweater. “It’s... fine,” you said, though your voice carried a hint of irritation.

“It’s not fine,” she insisted, her gaze darting from the stains to your face. “Your sweater’s ruined. I’ll pay for the cleaning. And for your coffee. Please, let me.”

You sighed, exasperated but strangely disarmed by her earnestness. “It's okay. Really.”

But she was already at the counter, ordering your replacement drink. You watched as she handed over her card, her lips pursed with determination. When she turned back to you, the remorse in her eyes was palpable.

As the two of you waited for your drinks, she extended her hand. “I’m Leah, by the way. Leah Williamson.”

The name sounded familiar, but you were too distracted to place it. You shook her hand, introducing yourself. Her grip was firm but gentle, and the warmth lingered even after she let go.

When your drinks were ready, she handed you yours with a sheepish smile. “I still feel terrible. Are you sure I can’t do anything else to make it up to you?”

You hesitated, not wanting to prolong the interaction but also unable to ignore the pull you felt toward her. “It’s really okay,” you said, but she cut you off.

“At least let me take you out to dinner,” she said quickly. “As an apology. Please.”

Dinner? The idea felt strange, but there was something in her voice, a vulnerability that made it hard to say no. You thought about your day—how terrible it had been—and realized that maybe this odd encounter was the highlight you hadn’t expected.

“All right,” you said finally. “Dinner sounds nice.”

Leah’s face brightened instantly, and she pulled out her phone. “Can I get your number? I’ll text you the details. How about Friday?”

“Friday works,” you said, exchanging numbers with her.

As you turned to leave, you glanced back over your shoulder. She was still standing there, her phone in hand, a small smile playing on her lips as she stared at the new contact she’d just saved.

You stepped back out into the rain, but this time, it didn’t feel so dreary. Despite your ruined outfit, you felt lighter, almost giddy. A laugh bubbled up, and you couldn’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all.

Meanwhile, Leah lingered in the coffee shop, her drink untouched. She couldn’t believe what had just happened—or how relieved she felt that you’d said yes. Friday couldn’t come soon enough, and for the first time all day, the stress of football seemed like a distant memory.

As she stepped back out into the rain, her thoughts weren’t on the Champions League or league standings anymore. They were on you, the stranger she’d run into—literally—and the chance she’d been given to make it up to you.

Perhaps it wasn’t just an apology dinner. Perhaps it was the start of something neither of you had expected.

#leah williamson #woso #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x you #woso x reader #woso fics #woso fanfics

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leonkennedybreedingkink · 19 days ago

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BREATHPLAY

ex!leon kennedy x fem!reader

notes: this year has been a lot so far LOL but part of this fic is based on my meditations after a breakup from a long term relationship so enjoy. descriptions of a rocky relationship, maybe a makeup? drunk sex (both lol), sub!leon and dom!reader, some religious tones. also shoutout to @vaaaaaiolet for safe when i fall i think i got inspired by that one :).

Leon and you never really meshed. Rough edges against other rough edges doesn’t mean sanding down so you’ll fit together nicely.

He’s uniquely good at pissing you off. He leaves the toilet seat up (you put it down), he doesn’t like cooking (“I have cereal,” he says, but muscles like those in his arms don’t live off cereal), he refuses to leave his shoes by the door and tracks in mud/dirt/snow/slush/leaves on the floor and your heart (no matter how many times you make him mop up his mess), he’s contrarian for the sake of having something to argue about (read: talk about).

Sheepish schoolboy through and through, no matter how old or grizzled he gets.

The one thing you two could agree on was always the bedroom, he was much easier to bear when he just shut the fuck up for once and put his mouth to better uses. He was always happy to worship at your altar, anyway.

You, oh, you. Leon loves you to bits, you’re his favorite mule. On one hand, stubbornness got you almost everything you wanted, him included. On the other, you’re almost impossible to deal with when you get in a certain way.

Leon likes to feel manly every once in a while, you know?

You also don’t tell him when you’re pissed, you just shut the hell up and shut him out until you’re ready to talk to him, practically scrubbing the dishes until the nonstick coating comes off.

Something you two implicitly agreed on was to hang on—and, boy, was that a mistake. People always say that you should stick it out, a rough patch is just that, you’ll come out stronger together.

What they don’t tell you is that some things are past the salvageable point and it’s better to know when to quit.

There was a lot of yelling that night before Leon packed up his shit and finally left.

You’d had a while of peace, it felt good, organic even, to get Leon out of your system in all the ways that could be meant.

Story of your fucking life that nobody else could get you off the way Leon can. It doesn’t even come down to skill, it just comes down to good old capacity to give a shit—but that’s what you get when you fuck a guy or three after your ex, who you were with for a handful of years, who had the opportunity to learn what makes you break open.

To you, this breakup felt like swimming to the surface after a few years under water.

Leon had the opposite sort of idea. He didn’t want to touch anyone else, he didn’t want to look at any other woman but you. He deleted your nudes off his phone in a drunken haze, so it’s only memories that get him off when he’s drunk—that is, if whiskey dick hasn’t struck him yet again.

(Another one of your complaints.)

Every time you said you’d go to your friends, they discouraged you from ever talking to him again. They went so far as to take your phone and change the contact name to DON’T EVER FUCKING CALL, changing the profile picture from Leon giving you bunny ears in a mirror selfie to a red stop sign.

You kinda miss Leon the way you miss a bruise, pressing on it a little longer for the hurt and for it to stay. Oh, the love was there too, and you two still yelled at one another or gave the silent treatment until someone (him) broke, walking to you on his knees.

Half a year goes by without you thinking about Leon as much as you could perhaps be. You came real close to breaking after about month two without freshly mopped floors because someone was so excited to be home with you that he forgot to take off his shoes, your friends saved you at the last second.

Month seven is when things get a little rocky. Spring’s coming again, even if the ground’s a little frosty still. Leon texts you first around eleven-fifty at night, when you’re scrolling on your phone in bed.

Hey.

What the fuck? You have to stare at the screen unseeingly for a moment, then blink, squeezing your eyes shut and opening them again to a simple greeting. You can almost imagine the tone he’s taking—he takes that one with you after he starts an argument with you just to talk to you about something.

God, back. Get a fucking hold of yourself.

Oh, hell. He’s texting.

I miss you.

Fuck.

Sluggish thumbs pause and hover over the screen.

Do you?

Like a limb. Is his immediate response. The next, a blurry pic of him raking his hand through his hair, gold chain glinting in the flash.

Christ on a cracker.

You can almost feel the chain in your hand the longer you look at it. The pleasantly surprised look on Leon’s face when you first grabbed the chain to carefully tug him closer is still burned in your mind, that’s what gets you off some days. Well, that and the other things you two did.

Come over? Startles you out of your reverie. Baby Christ in the manger with the sheep. Is this really you? Are you the type of bitch to go back to your ex, even for a night? Would future you be disappointed?

Yeah. Be there in ten. Future you is gonna be well-dicked, if and when she beats you up about this.

All Leon sends is his address as you kick off the covers and dress hurriedly, practically running out of your apartment.

You got there in seven. You take care to look nonchalant as you get out of your car, shutting it with a hip and locking it. You shove your keys into your pocket and scope out the apartment numbers as you get up onto the curb, then the sidewalk.

Your foot skids on a stair and you curse, glad you had a hand on the railing as you pause before continuing your ascension.

You barely finish knocking before the door opens, Lazarus fresh from the tomb in all his disheveled glory before you. Your heart’s in your throat. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Leon twists to the side, allowing you in.

Talk about a bachelor pad. You scope out the place as you toe off your shoes, leaned halfway against the wall.

TV’s on, he’s watching something. There’s vodka bottles littering the coffee table and only one light on in a corner of the room.

The door latches behind you and Leon stifles a hiccup into a fist. “You got here quick.” He says, sidestepping you fluidly and going over to the couch. He sits back down, swallowing some more vodka.

Your face goes hot. “I was overcompensating to not fall asleep at the wheel.” You shrug off your jacket, revealing your baggy shirt. There’s nowhere to hang it, so you drop it on the floor and walk over to the couch, plopping down. Ew, it’s pleather.

Leon snorts into his drink and you try not to gawk at his biceps. “Right.” He agrees solemnly, swallowing a little more vodka before he gets up, getting you a tumbler. He looks fucking delicious. “One or two.”

You hate straight vodka. “One.” Why the fuck not? That’s the flinch, isn’t it?

Leon pours you a shot and clinks your glasses together, passing it to you with his finger inside the rim.

You down it without tasting it, and so does he. You lean forward and pour another, swallowing it down with a burn lingering in your nose. When you have about four shots in your system, Leon speaks up.

“You know, people were right when they said that love is not enough.” He muses, swirling his glass around. Some sloshes over his hand and he slurps it up loudly. “Wasn’t for us.”

Your tongue feels heavy. Despite that, you don’t disagree.

When you’re silent for a little while, buzzed mind attempting to work, he scoffs. “Stop clamming up. It’s me.”

“That’s why I’m clamming up.” You snap after a moment, offense cutting through your buzz. “Because it’s you.”

Leon looks a little less pleased, pink mouth twisting and dipping at the corners. He downs a shot and pours another. You follow, plucking at your shirt to cool down as you sit back against the pleather upholstery.

“We were good, though, right?”

You watch the light play off his face, the blue light and shadows sharpening his features. “Sometimes.” You muster after a while, looking down at your shot glass. “When it was bad, it was bad.”

“Rough patches.” Leon mutters back, though he doesn’t seem to really agree. He sets his empty shot glass on the coffee table and sits back, lacing his fingers together behind his head as he watches the muted TV.

That v-line, he always made such pretty noises when you got to that. “Seems like the patches were the relationship.” You take another shot.

Leon shrugs without looking at you. Prick.

Another shot, more silence before you break it, feeling hot all over. “Did you call me over just to drink?”

Leon’s eyes flick over to you, skating over your features. He loved you, maybe. Loves? “Not really.”

Right. You always come when called.

“I just needed you close to me. Even for a moment.” He admits, eyes dropping from the TV to the coffee table.

He stinks of vodka and sweat when you crawl into his lap, ultraviolet eyes flashing wide for a moment before his hands settle on your hips, thumbs swiping over your bunny pajama pants. Muscle memory.

“You know what they say.” You lean in, eyes flicking between his eyes and his mouth, “Drunk words—“

“Are sober thoughts.” Leon finishes for you, chin tipping up as his eyes lid halfway. “You really are a broken record.”

“Fuck you.”

“You will.” Leon tastes like vodka and iron when he closes the distance between you, his lips slightly chapped. Nervous habit of his, he bites his lips.

It’s a little like being able to breathe. Maybe. It just feels really fucking good.

Leon pulls off your pants somehow, landing a smack to your ass to see the offended look you give him. You scratch him a little in return when you tug down his pants, he turns redder than his alcohol flush and dick jumping behind his boxers.

“Missed these most, fuckin’ hell.” Leon squeezes your tits when he gets your shirt off, leaving a kiss on the right side.

“Did mommy not breastfeed you?” You mock him as you tug his boxers down, rising up on your knees as he leaves you to struggle with his clothes. That vodka left you a little wetter than usual, it seems.

Leon leaves a half-gentle bite and you hiss, digging your nails into his thigh. “Dunno—“ You cut him off with a slow descent, back straightening as you hold in what could be a very incriminating noise. “You wanna try?” He says behind gritted teeth, eyes falling shut with a relieved expression.

You give a strained scoff, digging your nose into his cheek as you lace your arms around his neck, rolling your hips against his.

Leon whines behind a closed mouth, pressing his cheek against yours as his hands wander up and down your sides. You get to watch his eyes roll back when you lace your fingers in his hair and tug. His blunt nails dig into your skin, another louder whine leaving him.

Hitting all his weak spots coupled with the first time with you in a few months has him hurtling over the edge sooner than expected. Honestly, you too.

“In?” Leon pants, eyes opening behind his sweaty bangs, hips jumping to meet yours midway. “Out? How do you want me?”

Thank God, your thighs are beginning to burn. “In.” You leave a wet kiss on his cheek, reaching down with your other hand to fumble with your clit.

He comes right before you do, a pathetic sounding whine leaving him as he spills inside you. You collapse against him, panting for breath and sated in a way you haven’t been for a while.

While you collect yourselves and your dignity, Leon’s hands keep moving up and down your back and sides, soft puffs of breath blowing your hair.

It’s dead silent in the apartment, save only for your breaths. Sweat sticks you two together, you grimace as you peel yourself off him, flopping off to his side and making a mess (what a waste).

Silence reigns for a while longer as you pick at Leon’s fake leather upholstery, a million and one things on your mind. “We can’t be friends.” You mutter after a while.

Leon watches you, sweaty hair sticking up at every angle. “No.” He agrees after a silent moment, not bothering to slap your hand away as you keep picking at his fake leather couch. “I don’t think we ever could be.”

You shake your head, eyes on the patchy upholstery. “And we aren’t lovers.”

Leon shoves his hand beneath yours and holds it so you stop picking at the upholstery. “We could be.”

“Maybe.” But you know him and his soft heart. Beneath it, your heart’s soft too. “We’ll fight, though.”

Leon’s finger runs across your palm. “I like our fights.”

You close and open your hand around his finger. “And we only ever seem to communicate when you’re inside me.”

Leon shrugs. “We should just be physical.”

Round and round in circles we go.

#mine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader

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leaderwon · 11 months ago

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hi! could you please do a part 2 to enha forgets ur birthday? pls part 1 was so good🫵🏼🫶🏻 i just wanna see them grovel lol

non!idol enhypen x non!idol reader

forgetting your birthday pt. 2 !

pt. 1

warnings : she/her pronouns used, cursing, crying, mentions of grief.

luna's diary : this one kinda sucks ugh. HELLA RUSHED because I went to a trip (Singapore + Malaysia) AND THE CELL SERVICE WAS terrible I'm so so so sorry anons this is very dissapointing but I felt bad making yall wait for so long. Promise to edit this as soon as I reach home!

HEESEUNG

After the realisation that your boyfriend, had indeed forgotten your birthday, the birthday spirits you had in the starting of the day had blown away. As promised he appeared to your door step with flowers in his hands as he murmured a set of apologies for forgetting your special day. Saying you were mad at your boyfriend would be a huge understatement. You were furious with a hint of disappointment. "baby I'm sorry please" he said as you closed your eyes felt a few tears threatening to fall. Noticing this heeseung hugged you tight and ran his hands in your head wondering how he could make it up to you. He knew he messed up and this couldn't be mended easily. Like a broken dam, your tears started flowing uncontrollably. "How could you forget hee?" you questioned him finally using your voice for the first time since he arrived. "I know pretty girl im so sorry" he said as his voice hitched and eyes swelling up with tears, his mind running on a marathon trying to find ways to make it up to you. Like a bulb lighting above his head, he left you on the spot and rushed to the living room.

A few minutes later he rushed back ushering you to follow him. Upon reaching the living room you saw a beautifully decorated living room with fairy lights, your favourite blankets with your snacks and your favorite movie ready to play. A smiled adorned your features as you heard him say "i know what I did was terrible but let me try to make it up to you".

JAY

He was at a party with the boys when you made him realised that he had messed up the date. He couldn't believe it. This man was shocked, mind blank wtf type shock. By the time he reached home he was already in tears. But when he saw how dark your house was with sadness evident on your face as you slept in your bed he broke down right in front of your sleeping figure.

How could he mess up the date that marks your creation? He was more dissapointed in him than you were tbh. You were soon awaken by the sounds of your boyfriend's cries. "Baby what's wrong?" You questioned him cradling his face. "I'm sorry princess I'm so sorry i can't believe I forgot your birthday"

He was more heartbroken than you were, his emotions all over the place. "Baby it's okay i promise" Cuddles and kisses you the whole night and clears his schedule for the next day.

JAKE

The whole day you patiently waited for Jake to show his existence to you. It was your birthday and you were excited to spend the day with him. But to no avail, he didn't show up. Deciding to occupy yourself with your phone, you saw a notification indicating that Jake had uploaded a story. The light in your eyes faded away as you took in Jake with Iseul, a junior, on your birthday.

Having done with this, you decided to finally text him. Upon realising what he had done, he rushed home to see you on the couch with a dark cloud above your head. "Hey baby" Jake started slowly. "I'm really sorr-" "Save it Jake I don't want to hear it" You responded cutting him off. "But baby you know Iseul is like a younger sister to me" He started again. He was walking on eggshells right now knowing that if he said anything wrong you would crack. "I get that she's a younger sister to you, but Jake it's my birthday, you could have comforted her tomorrow, but my birthday wont be tomorrow" You replied. "I waited for you so long, try and look at this in my point of view Jake" as you said that his eyes softened. "I'm so sorry, i get why you're mad at me baby please let me try and make it up to you" He said trying to mend things. "Just give me time Jake, i don't think I'll get over this easily" You said as you left the house.

You were back 3 hours later, with jake in the same spot you left him. He expression blanked as he looked at you. You were spooked out by him as you stared back at him for a moment. "Are you just gonna stand there for the rest of your life?" You asked giggling. Hearing your precious laughter he looked at you with a slight smile on his face. "Baby, I'm sorry i really am. I don't know how it managed to slip out of my mind. I swear i remembered it I'm so sorry" He said starting to ramble as you looked at him. His words barely registered in your mind due to how fast he was speaking. "Jake it's okay" "and i get it if you're still mad at me and don- wait what?" He asked confused. "You accept my apology?" He continued as you nodded. Finally moving after hours he engulfed you in a hug. "Thank you Thank you, I'll make sure this never happens again" he said gratefully. "You better not do this shit again" You said.

"Now tell me the Iseul tea"

SUNGHOON

When you asked him if he checked his calendar out of the blue he was confused. Why would you suddenly want him to check his calendar?

Upon actually checking his calendar he went pale realising he forgot your birthday, an occasion that shouldn't be remembered through a calendar. This guy was going through five stages of grief.

"no way i forgot my princess' birthday"

"how the fuck did I manage to forget her birthday?"

"God please let this be a dream"

"i forgot her birthday"

"okay i forgot her birthday, let's make it up to her" He said finally reaching the last stage of grief, acceptance. He rushed to your house to see you not there. He called your name multiple times hoping to get an answer from you finally seeing you sitting in the balcony.

"Hey baby, whatcha doin'?" your boyfriend asked you slowly walking towards you. "Nothing just sitting" You replied slowly, sadness evident in your voice. "Baby" Sunghoon starts again sitting next to you this time. He passed you a chocolate eyeing you to open it.

Upon opening it you noticed a small peice of paper with "I love you" and "I'm sorry" written on it. "I don't know how it slipped my mind, princess. But I will make it up to you, I promise". You understood his point of view, it was common to forget stuff. Though you were still hurt by this, you laid your head on his shoulder and the both of you silently enjoyed the scenery your balcony offered in silence.

SUNOO

The day had ended by the time your boyfriend had finally remembered your existence and decided to text you. You had held a party to celebrate your special day with your friends and family hoping to see a sign of sunoo. When sunoo had first texted you, you were shocked to find out that he had absolutely no idea what party or what special occasion you were talking about. You were devastated to find out that not only did he not know what day it was, but he expected you to tell him.

What kind of boyfriend doesn't remember his girlfriend's birthday and then expect her to tell him? You were mad at him with alot of hurt lingering inside you.

The clock read 1:30 am the moment he stepped inside the house. Looking around he saw leftover confetti, balloons and alocholic beverages yet to be picked up. All of this indicating that there was infact a party held. Sunoo knew that what he had done would not take a good turn and that it would take alot of fighting and apologizing to make it up to you. Spotting you with tears in your eyes, he made his way to you slowly pulling you into a hug and started apologizing.

He was sorry and guilty, you knew he was. But him expecting you to tell him that it was your birthday was where you drew the line.

You were unsure on whether you could forgive him at all. He promised to take you out tomorrow and attempt to make it up to you. You knew that wouldn't heal the hurt this had caused you, but you appreciated his efforts and agreed as you hugged him back.

JUNGWON

Out of all the people you liked in your life, you never expected Yang Jungwon to forget your birthday. If someone told you he would, you would laugh your ass off. But now, you were in tears as you held your phone finally deciding to text him.

You were in disbelief as you found out that he thought your birthday was next weekend. Thoughts like "How can someone mess up their lover's birthday?" "does he care less to not know which day" were running through your head.

He rushed into your home apologizing immediately mentioning how much he had planned and got a date wrong. He was on the verge of tears as you looked up at him rambling.

"Baby i promise i remembered, look I even had some gifts prepared" He said as he sped walk towards your shared dresser in the bedroom opening up a random compartment you had no idea existed. "What the fuck? Since when was that there?" You asked him in utter shock.

"It's always been there baby, you never noticed it" Jungwon said taking out a huge amount of gifts for you. "You weren't kidding when you said you were prepared huh?" You spoke as you scanned the bags. "Since last month" He winked at you as he led you to your living room.

"I'm so sorry, i can't believe I forgot your birthday I'm such a bad boyfriend" Jungwon apologized to you as guilt and shamed swirled in his orbs ( is this even right wtf - leaderwon ).l

"Won it's fine, don't worry" You said as a smile finally made its way on your face. "Now let's see what you got me I'm so excited" you said again as you smiled wider in happiness.

NI-KI

You were raging as you watched him play his video games for the entire day. You weren't an anti of games for you were also into playing. But it was your birthday today, a day he was supposed to spend with you instead of the ps5 Jay had gotten him on his birthday last year.

You were heartbroken as you tried to knock some sense into your boyfriend. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Finally giving up, you took your wallet and coat and left the house to get fresh air.

You could feel your phone vibrate as Ni-ki spammed your phone asking where you were. You decided against on replying and just walked ahead. Soon, you heard your boyfriend call your name from behind as he ran towards you. You tried walking faster since you didn't want to be with him at the moment. But your luck was unfortunate as he had legs long asf and caught up to you within moments.

"baby stop, come back home it's late" he begged. "Go back to your game, it's never too late for that" You said in a monotonous tone. "I'm sorry" "Sorry won't fix the day I lost waiting for you to fucking realise and rejecting all my friends who cared enough to want to spend the day with me" You said almost tearing up and walking again.

"I'm sorry" You heard him say as he stopped following you. You never heard his voice be so gentle in the 2 years you have been dating him. His voice sounded like he was on the brink of having a mental breakdown. "I really am" He said again and your heart dropped. You wondered if you were being too harsh on him.

Frozen in place, you could feel the tension in the air as the cool air blew through your hair. You were trying really hard to stay strong and hard but when you turned back to look at him, you could feel your heart drop to your stomach. You knew you were soft for this man, but the moment you looked at him you could feel emotions that you weren't aware yu could feel.

"Please" You heard him say. His eyes were pitiful with a tear threatening to fall. "I know i fucked up but please please let me try and make it up to you". You couldn't bare to see him like this anymore. "Fine" You sighed and walked towards him again.

You were hurt he missed your birthday, yes. But seeing him like that hurt you more. You knew you were deep as you held his hand and walked to the house the both of you resided in.

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stylesispunk · 2 months ago

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"Our little mistletoe" day 2/3

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You got sick during the week of Christmas. Unable to leave home, Joel brings Christmas to you, and some feelings are confessed.

wc: 6,3>

warnings: just fluff. (Yes, no angst.)

a/n: welcome to the second day of my joel's fic christmas version event. Perhaps, PERHAPS I will add one more day to this mini event. Thank you so much for the love on the day one of this mini event! So glad you lived that one. ♥️♥️ It's funny that at the same time, I'm writing this, I'm sick, but instead of cozy blankets and cold weather, here it's hot. I need Joel to come and save me. I don't know if you're gonna like this one as much as the fic one, i hope you like it though. Happy reading 💌

By this time of the day, you would have been already on Joel’s house, helping him to get everything ready for tonight’s dinner. Setting some last-minute decorations with Sarah that he always had forgot to put on display inside the house.

You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas or travelling during these holidays, but you always had put a show for him, especially for Sarah since she was a little kid.

And he loved that. He loved it so much.

The way you belonged to his house, the way your skin seemed to glow under the twinkling lights, the smile you grace when he was opening the gift you had delicately chose for him.

Or the way you smelled like sweet pastries

You, just you.

You were his favorite part of the holidays and of life itself. You were woven into every tradition, every memory that mattered. From the moment you stepped into his life, you'd filled spaces he hadn't even known were empty.

Joel watched as you carefully adjusted a wreath over the fireplace, your fingers lingering to straighten the ribbon just so. Sarah had darted into the kitchen to check on the cookies, leaving the two of you in the soft glow of the Christmas tree.

“Think it looks alright?” you asked, turning to him with a smile that knocked the wind out of his chest.

“Looks perfect,” he murmured, but he wasn’t talking about the wreath.

You laughed, shaking your head as if you could brush off his intensity. “You always say that.”

“’Cause it’s always true,” he replied, voice low and warm.

You turned back to the decorations, but Joel kept his eyes on you, taking in the way you fit into this moment as though you were meant to be here all along.

It wasn’t just Christmas. It was you. It had always been you.

Joel’s thoughts came back to the present moment as worry nagged him. He checked on his phone, the last message he had sent you remained there, not even seen.

Joel’s thumb hovered over the screen, his brow furrowing as he stared at the text.

You on your way yet? Sarah's been asking for you.

The read receipt hadn’t popped up, and that alone was enough to set him on edge.

You were never late, especially not for Christmas dinner.

The sound of laughter floated from the kitchen as Sarah shouted something about burnt cookies, but Joel couldn’t focus. His gut twisted with a sense of unease he couldn’t shake. He stood, pacing toward the window, glancing out at the driveway that remained empty.

He checked the time. It wasn’t like you to keep him waiting.

Pulling his coat off the hook, Joel stepped out onto the porch. The cold air bit at his skin, but it didn’t matter. He needed to do something, anything. The world felt too still, too quiet without you in it.

He dialed your number, pacing back and forth as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it went to voicemail.

Joel ran a hand down his face, gripping the back of his neck as his heartbeat picked up.

“Where the hell are you?” he muttered under his breath, glancing at his phone again.

Just as he was about to call again, the door behind him creaked open, and Sarah peeked out, a worried look on her face.

“Dad? Everything okay?” she asked.

Joel forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just...waitin’ for her. You know how the roads can get this time of year.”

Joel barely had time to answer Sarah’s question when the sound of tires crunching against cobblestones pulled his attention. He turned toward the driveway to see Tommy’s truck rolling in, headlights cutting through the early winter dusk. Relief warred in his chest.

Tommy stepped out of the truck, shaking off the cold as he made his way to the porch. "Merry Christmas eve, big brother," he called, his usual smirk in place. But it faltered when he got a good look at Joel’s face. "What’s with the long face? Something happened?"

Joel didn’t waste time. “I need you to stay here with Sarah.”

Tommy blinked, confused. “What? Why? Ain’t this the time we’re all supposed to be gathering’ ‘round the tree, singing’ carols or whatever?”

“I think somethin’ might’ve happened,” Joel admitted referring to you, his tone heavy with worry. “She isn’t here yet. Ain’t answerin’ my messages or calls, and that just...ain’t her.”

Tommy’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by quiet seriousness. “Alright. I’ll stay. Go find her.”

Joel gave him a firm nod, patting his shoulder in thanks before grabbing his keys and heading for his truck. He was halfway down the driveway, his mind already running through the possibilities, car trouble, icy roads, something worse, when his phone buzzed on the seat beside him.

He swerved to a stop, snatching the phone up. It was you.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice sharp with worry. “Where the hell are you? Are you alright?”

There was a long pause on the other end, and then your voice came through, soft and raspy. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I overslept. I think I’m coming down with something.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and concern flooding through him. “Jesus, you scared the hell outta me. You could’ve called sooner.”

“I know,” you murmured, guilt laced in your tone. “I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas eve or worry you. I just...I feel awful.”

Joel’s grip on the phone tightened as he pulled off the road, parking his truck. “Ruin my Christmas eve?” he echoed, his voice softening. “You’re the only part of it I care about.”

There was a pause on your end, and Joel could imagine the way you’d be biting your lip at his words. “I’m sorry, Joel. I really wanted to be there, but I barely can keep myself up.”

“You don’t gotta apologize. You just sit tight, alright?” Joel's voice was firm but gentle, there was a lace of disappointment hanging there, but because of the thought of you spending all this night alone. "I’ll figure it out. Just rest, okay? I’ll check on you later."

You let out a tired sigh, tinged with a hint of guilt. "Okay. Merry Christmas eve, Joel. Tell Sarah I’m sorry."

Joel’s chest tightened at how small your voice sounded, the strength you usually carried replaced by exhaustion. "Merry Christmas eve, darlin’. Just take care of yourself, alright?"

He ended the call, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. The engine idled quietly as Joel sat there, the glow of his truck’s dashboard lights illuminating his face. You might have been stuck at home, but that didn’t mean you had to spend Christmas Eve alone.

A plan had come up to his mind.

He swung the truck around, heading back toward the house with a sense of purpose. When he pulled into the driveway, Tommy was waiting on the porch, bundled in his coat, a questioning look on his face.

"Everything alright?" Tommy asked as Joel climbed out.

“She’s sick,” Joel said, already heading toward the front door. "Ain’t coming over."

Tommy frowned. "Then why are you back? Givin’ up that easy?"

Joel shot him a pointed look as he stepped inside. "Hell no. We’re taking Christmas to her."

Sarah popped her head out from the kitchen, her face lighting up when she saw her dad. "She’s not coming?"

"Not feelin’ well," Joel explained as he grabbed a couple of boxes of decorations from the living room. "But that don’t mean she’s missin’ out."

Sarah grinned, catching on to his plan. "You mean we’re bringing all this to her place?"

"Damn right we are," Joel said, already sorting through the things he’d need. "Grab the cookies, the rest of the food and some of the lights."

Tommy let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

Joel shot him a look that said everything. "All of us, Tommy. Come on”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading as realization dawned. “Wait, me too?

Joel didn’t even pause as he grabbed another box of lights. “You’re comin’. You’re part of this family, ain’t you?”

Tommy smiled, following Joel into the kitchen, where Sarah was already busy wrapping up the food with a determined look on her face. “Fine, but don’t blame me if I eat half those cookies on the way.”

“You do, and you’re walkin’,” Joel shot back, his voice teasing but his pace relentless.

Within minutes, the truck was packed to the brim. Lights, food, decorations, everything that screamed Christmas was crammed into the back. Joel stood by the truck, taking a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looked over the load.

“Think she’ll like it?” Sarah asked, her smile lighting up her face.

Joel turned to her with a small smile, his tone soft. “She’ll love it, baby girl”

“Alright, let’s go before I change my mind about this,” Tommy muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.

As Tommy settled into the passenger seat, he rummaged through one of the bags he’d grabbed last minute from the house. A sly grin spread across his face as he pulled out a small sprig of mistletoe, holding it up between two fingers.

“Don’t forget about this, big brother,” he said, his tone dripping with mischief as he waved it in Joel’s direction.

Joel glanced over, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell are you doin’ with that?”

Tommy shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Figured you’d want it. Never know when it might come in handy. You will Kiss her tonight, brother”

Joel rolled his eyes, though the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Tommy, don’t start.”

“I’m just sayin’.” Tommy leaned back, twirling the mistletoe like it was some kind of trophy. “You’re doin’ all this for her, haulin’ Christmas across town like some kinda lovesick Santa Claus. Might as well seal the deal.”

“Tommy,” Joel warned, his voice low and pointed. “This ain’t about that.”

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said, his grin widening. “Just about spreadin’ some holiday cheer, huh? Totally normal to pack up half your house for a ‘friend.’” He made air quotes with his fingers, earning a laugh from Sarah in the backseat.

“Uncle Tommy’s got a point, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her voice light but playful. “I mean, you like her, right? Why not just go for it?”

Joel gripped the wheel a little tighter, his jaw working as he tried to come up with a response that wouldn’t give Tommy and Sarah even more ammunition. “Ain’t the time for that,” he muttered.

Tommy leaned forward, mistletoe still in hand. “Oh, come on, Joel. You’re already playin’ the hero tonight. Don’t tell me you’re gonna chicken out now.”

Joel shot him a glare, but Tommy just laughed. “You’re impossible,” Joel muttered, snatching the mistletoe from his brother’s hand and tossing it onto the dashboard.

“Just keep it handy,” Tommy said with a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Joel shook his head, but the teasing didn’t stop the thought from creeping in. The mistletoe sat there, a quiet challenge he wasn’t quite ready to face, as they drove toward your house.

You had just started to drift off, the ache in your head and the warmth of your blankets pulling you under, when a knock at the door jolted you awake. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but there it was again, a firm, familiar rhythm that made your heart stutter.

Groaning softly, you pushed yourself up, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you shuffled toward the door. The pounding in your head didn’t do much to help the confusion swirling in your mind. Who would be here at this hour?

You opened the door a crack, peeking out cautiously, only to have your breath catch in your throat.

Joel stood there, snow dusting his hair and jacket, his arms holding a box full of things that looked suspiciously festive. Behind him, Sarah and Tommy were standing by the truck, each holding their own share of decorations and food.

“Joel?” you croaked, your voice rough from the scratchiness in your throat.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes sweeping over you with concern. “You look like hell.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, pulling the blanket closer around you. “What’re you doing here?”

“Bringin’ Christmas to you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Joel took the opportunity to step inside, brushing past you gently as he carried a box of decorations toward your living room. Sarah and Tommy followed suit, grinning like conspirators as they set down their own loads of holiday cheer.

“Wait, wait,” you protested, your head spinning as you tried to keep up. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“No,” Joel said, turning to face you, his expression warm but resolute. “But I wanted to. You shouldn’t spend Christmas alone, sick or not.”

Sarah appeared at your side, holding a plate of cookies wrapped in foil. “We made these for you! Well, Dad baked them”

“Did you bake them?” You asked, recieiving the plate from Sarah.

“No, I bought them, really. I made Sarah believe I was baking” he replied, without giving himself credit.

“Such a fake” you said, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Joel was at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, steadying you.

“C’mon,” he said, guiding you gently toward the couch. “Sit down. Let us take care of this.”

“Joel,” you began, your voice hoarse but filled with emotion, “you really didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, the chaos of the room faded into the background. “You’re part of this, part of us. Always have been. So, yeah, I did.”

You blinked at him, your chest tightening with something that wasn’t just the cold. Before you could respond, Tommy called out from the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, Tommy’s voice broke through the moment, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

“Well, look at this,” he drawled, stepping closer with the infamous sprig of mistletoe in his hand. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. She looks at you like you’re her Christmas miracle, Joel. Might as well give her a reason to keep starin’.”

Joel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tommy, don’t—”

But Tommy was already moving. With the precision of a man who lived to be a menace, he slipped the mistletoe into the back pocket of Joel’s jeans, patting it smugly as if he’d completed a masterpiece.

“There,” Tommy declared, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Now you’re carryin’ it everywhere, just in case the moment strikes. Plus,” he added with a wink in your direction, “I think someone else here might be on board with this idea.”

Your face burned as the attention shifted to you, and you quickly glanced away, pretending to be fascinated by the pattern on the blanket you’d pulled over your lap.

“Tommy,” Joel growled, his voice a low warning.

“What?” Tommy said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “I’m just tryin’ to help. I mean, come on, big brother. Don’t act like she ain’t got that same look you’ve been sportin’ for years now.”

“Tommy,” Joel repeated, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck now.

You managed to peek up at Joel, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Tommy’s teasing words might’ve been delivered with a smirk, but there was truth buried in them.

Joel caught your gaze, and for a split second, everything else seemed to fade.

“Alright, enough,” Joel said finally, dragging a hand down his face as he shot Tommy a glare. “Don’t you have somethin’ better to do?”

“Not really,” Tommy quipped, sauntering off toward the pile of lights he’d been working on.

As the room filled with Sarah’s chatter and the sound of Christmas music Tommy had turned on, Joel lingered by your side, looking equal parts exasperated and amused.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” he murmured, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “He’s just talkin’ nonsense.”

But when you glanced down at the faint hint of green peeking from his back pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Tommy wasn’t entirely wrong.

As the evening wore on, the laughter and warmth filling your small home was everything you hadn’t realized you needed. The twinkling lights Joel and Sarah had strung up bathed the room in a soft glow, and the scent of cookies and food mingled with the piney aroma of the small tree Tommy had managed to haul inside.

But as much as you loved the idea of them bringing Christmas to you, the pounding in your head refused to let up. You tried to hide it, smiling and laughing as Sarah excitedly talked about different things, but she was too perceptive for her own good.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked gently, her brows furrowing as she leaned closer to you on the couch.

You waved her off with a weak smile. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah wasn’t convinced. She glanced over at Joel, who was mid-conversation with Tommy about fixing the uneven lights on the tree. “Maybe we should let her rest,” Sarah said softly, her concern evident. “We can go back home. It’s been such a nice night already.”

“No,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter despite the dull ache in your head. “I don’t want you to leave. You’ve already done so much, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you packing everything up after all this effort.”

Joel turned his head at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing as he took in your pale complexion. “You sure, darlin’? You look like you could use some quiet.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted, though the words came out weaker than you intended. “You’ve made this place feel like Christmas. Stay. Please.”

Tommy smirked from where he was fiddling with the ornaments. “Guess that settles it. Looks like we’re havin’ a sleepover.”

Sarah’s face lit up. “Really? We can stay?”

You nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Of course. There’s plenty of room.”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flicking between you and Sarah. “Alright, but only if you promise to tell me if you’re feelin’ worse. I mean it.”

You nodded, touched by the concern in his voice.

“Well,” Joel said, clapping his hands together. “If we’re stayin’, how ‘bout a movie? Somethin’ Christmas-y.”

Sarah practically bounced in her seat. “Home Alone!” she suggested immediately.

Tommy groaned. “Haven’t we seen that one a hundred times?”

“Exactly,” Sarah retorted, grinning.

Joel chuckled and looked at you. “What d’you think?”

You leaned back into the couch, grateful for the blanket Sarah had draped over you earlier. “Home Alone sounds perfect.”

Sarah bounced up from the couch, eager to grab snacks and drinks for everyone. As she passed Joel, she flashed him a mischievous smile. "You can sit by her now, dad," she said, her voice teasing. "She's gonna need someone to keep her warm."

Joel gave her a mock glare, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he stood up and made his way toward the couch. He carefully settled beside you, just close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that it felt intrusive. He was getting really nervous about your company tonight in a way his heart seemed to explode at the thought of touching you.

“Comfy?” he asked quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs that you were still struggling. His hand rested on the couch cushion next to yours, as if he was just waiting for the right moment to reach for you if you needed him.

You smiled faintly, grateful for his care. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice still a bit rough. “Thanks for staying. This... this means a lot.”

He glanced at you, his gaze softening. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, darlin’.” There was a tenderness in his voice that made your heart flutter despite the headache.

You shifted slightly on the couch, the warmth of his presence comforting, and without thinking, you leaned in closer, resting your head gently on his shoulder. You could feel the muscles in his arm tense slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted just enough to make sure you were comfortable, his warmth enveloping you like a protective blanket.

For a moment, you simply listened to the sounds of the movie and the gentle chatter of Sarah and Tommy, feeling the steady rise and fall of Joel’s breath beneath your ear. The headache was still there, pounding softly in the background, but having Joel so near helped ease the tension in your body, his steady presence grounding you.

Joel’s hand, which had been resting on the cushion beside you, slowly moved. At first, it just hovered near your shoulder, but then, as though asking permission, it settled softly on your arm. His touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, his voice low, barely louder than the sound of the movie.

You nodded slightly, not trusting yourself to speak. His presence, his warmth, it was exactly what you needed, even if you hadn’t realized it before. You allowed yourself to sink further into him, feeling a small sense of peace settle over you.

Joel’s hand tightened just slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to remind you that he was there.

I’m here, and I’m not leaving.

The steady rhythm of Joel’s breath, the warmth of his body next to yours, and the gentle hum of the movie in the background all worked together to lull you into a calm, peaceful state. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, the exhaustion from the day and the pounding headache making it harder to stay awake.

As you settled deeper into the couch, Joel’s presence became the anchor that kept you grounded, and before you knew it, you drifted off, your breathing slowing into a relaxed, steady pattern. The last thing you were aware of was the comforting weight of his arm around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, as if he too was holding onto this moment, savoring the peace and quiet that you shared together.

Joel didn’t say anything as you fell asleep. He simply let you rest, his hand lightly stroking your arm as he made sure you were comfortable, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. His heart swelled with a tenderness that made him afraid of his feelings.

As you slept peacefully, nestled against Joel, the soft glow of the Christmas lights cast a warm hue across the room. The only sound was the low hum of the movie playing in the background and the occasional shift of movement from the others.

Tommy, who had been lounging on the armchair, glanced over at the two of you with a smirk. He was doing his best to stifle a laugh, but it was clear he couldn’t resist.

“Well, well,” Tommy teased quietly, “You look adorable together.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Tommy, a mix of annoyance and something else flickering in his gaze. He could get used to spend every day with you like this. “Shut up, Tommy,” he muttered under his breath, but his tone was far from harsh. He didn’t want to wake you, not when you were so peacefully resting.

Joel shot him a warning look, but the corners of his lips tugged into a smile despite himself. “You’ve got a hell of a way of making things awkward,” he grumbled, but it was clear he wasn’t bothered by the teasing.

Meanwhile, Sarah had curled up on the floor with a blanket, her eyes already fluttering closed. She was tired from the day’s events, her excitement finally catching up to her.

Joel looked down at you again, his hand still lightly resting on your shoulder as if unwilling to move. But then he noticed Sarah, fast asleep on the floor, and a new thought came to him.

“Tommy,” Joel called quietly, nudging his brother once more. “Can you help me get Sarah to the guest room? She’s out cold, and I don’t want her sleepin’ on the floor.”

Tommy, not missing a beat, grinned widely. “I can’t believe you’re getting rid of your daughter to get a girlfriend,” he teased, winking at Joel.

Joel didn’t even respond to that, his attention already on you. “Just help me, damn it,” he muttered, trying to keep the playful teasing to a minimum.

With a sigh, Tommy got up and walked over to Sarah, carefully lifting her and making sure she didn’t stir. Joel remained on the couch, his heart still racing from the tenderness of the moment, silently praying that you wouldn’t wake up just yet.

As Tommy returned to the living room, he gave Joel a quick nod, signaling that Sarah was settled comfortably in the guest room. Joel looked down at you, still asleep on his shoulder, and a deep tenderness washed over him. He wasn’t sure if he could carry you without waking you, but seeing you so peaceful in his arms made him want to do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable.

He carefully lifted you, one arm gently supporting your back and the other under your knees. His movements were slow and deliberate, trying his best not to disturb you. Your soft, steady breathing was a comfort to him as he began walking toward your bedroom.

Tommy, noticing the situation, gave Joel a teasing grin. “You sure you don’t need help, Joel?”

Joel shot him a look, his usual gruffness softened by the moment. “Just keep it down, alright? Don’t wanna wake her.”

Tommy’s grin only widened, but he stayed quiet, giving Joel the space he needed.

As Joel made his way into your bedroom, he gently lowered you onto the bed, making sure your head was resting comfortably on the pillow. He tucked the blanket around you, his fingers brushing against your skin for a brief moment. It wasn’t much, but the way you looked so peaceful made something inside him stir, and for a second, he just stood there, watching you.

His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the soft curve of your features, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Get some rest, darlin'," he whispered, as if the words could protect you from whatever might come next. "I’m right here."

Joel returned to the living room, his footsteps quiet but deliberate. Tommy, who had been half-leaning on the couch with his feet up, looked up at him with a smirk. Joel wiped a hand across his face, trying to shake off the quiet weight of the night.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Joel said, his voice low. “You can take the other bed in the guest room. It’s all set up.”

Tommy gave him an exaggerated shrug, as if to say he didn’t care where he slept. “Alright, alright. Guess it’s good to be the one on the couch for once.” He stood up and stretched, heading toward the guest room Joel had pointed out. “Night, man.”

“Night, Tommy,” Joel muttered, already turning back toward the bedroom.

Once everything settled down, the house was quiet again, save for the soft sounds of the holiday decorations swaying and the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Joel moved softly, making his way back down the hall to your room, checking the time briefly as he walked. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to be near you, even if you were sleeping.

When he pushed open the door to your room, expecting to see you still sleeping peacefully, his heart stuttered in his chest. There you were, awake, your eyes wide, watching him from the bed. The soft light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face, casting a warm glow over your features.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just taking in the presence of the other.

"Hey," Joel said quietly, leaning against the doorframe, his voice hoarse, like he was still trying to process the night.

You offered him a tired smile, but there was something else there too, an understanding, something deeper that only the two of you seemed to share “How did I get here?” you asked.

Joel stepped closer, his eyes softening. “I carried you to bed.” he confessed, his voice gentle. His gaze dropped to the bed, the warmth of your presence drawing him in. “You feeling better?”

You nodded slightly, even though you knew you weren’t completely alright. But there was something about having Joel near you that made you feel just a little more at ease.

“I’m alright now," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But you should get some rest too. You’ve done more than enough."

Joel stood there for a beat, as if considering what to say next. Then, he smiled softly, a trace of that quiet tenderness in his eyes. “I’ll rest when I know you’re okay.”

With that, he pulled up a chair near the bed, sitting down so that he could keep an eye on you. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay there, but he didn’t mind. He just needed to know you were alright.

You shifted slightly in the bed, glancing over at Joel, who was still sitting in the chair, watching you with that soft, protective look in his eyes. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you studied him for a moment.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the weight of the night lingering in the air between you. "You don't have to sit there all night."

Joel chuckled quietly, though it held a hint of disbelief. "I'm just making sure you're okay," he said, his voice low but reassuring. He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, never taking his eyes off you. "I told you, I’ll rest when you’re alright."

You could see the exhaustion etched on his face, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the long night, but there was still that protective energy about him. You couldn’t help but feel grateful, though you also felt a small ache in your chest seeing him so worn out.

“You can sleep with me, Joel," you said, the words slipping out before you had a chance to stop them. You quickly added, "I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to keep sitting there."

Joel’s expression softened as he took in your offer. He hesitated for a moment, the vulnerability in the air palpable between you two. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice a little rough with emotion. "I think I’d like that."

He stood up slowly, as if testing the idea, then moved to your side. You shifted to make room for him, pulling the blanket back slightly. As he lay down beside you, his warmth seemed to fill the room, and you could feel the tension in your chest loosen just a little.

Joel settled in beside you, not too close but close enough that you could feel his presence. His hand brushed yours, and you both let out a quiet, simultaneous sigh of relief. He shifted onto his side, facing you, his eyes scanning your face as if to make sure you were still okay.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The room was still, only the quiet sound of your breathing filling the space. Finally, Joel’s voice broke the silence, low and soft.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you glanced over at him. "I’m better now," you whispered. "With you here." You paused for a moment “What you did tonight…I can’t find the words to thank you.”

Joel smiled, a small but sincere curve of his lips, as he adjusted slightly, bringing you closer to him. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “You’re important to me.”

His words, though comforting, didn’t stop the weight of your emotions from building up inside you. The closeness, the warmth of his presence, and everything that had happened tonight made your heart swell with something deeper than gratitude.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his with a vulnerability you hadn’t shown before. “I love you, Joel,” you said, the words coming out softly but with a sincerity that made your chest ache.

Joel’s expression softened even more, his thumb still brushing lightly over your hand. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice deep and full of emotion.

You frowned, a little pout forming on your lips as you shifted slightly. “No, you don’t understand,” you murmured, feeling the weight of the moment grow even more. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, almost too heavy to breathe through. Joel’s gaze softened, searching your eyes as if trying to understand what you meant. And when he did, his expression shifted, becoming more tender, more real. Before you could pull away, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hiding from the intensity of the confession, but also seeking the comfort of his warmth.

Joel’s hand gently cradled the back of your head, his thumb still brushing through your hair as he held you close. The room was filled with a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, and then, in the softest of tones, he spoke.

“Can you repeat it?” His voice was a little rough, full of longing, but there was a hint of vulnerability there too.

You shook your head, keeping your face hidden in the crook of his neck, trying to gather the courage to meet his gaze again. The weight of your own confession was still hanging in the air, making you feel exposed and raw. You mumbled against his skin, “I can’t. It’s too much.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. He shifted slightly, pulling you back just enough to tilt your chin gently upward, so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. The tenderness there was undeniable. “That’s bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “’cause I’m in love with you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, eyes wide with surprise. The feeling of his words settled over you, warming you from the inside out, making your heart race.

“I—” You started, but the words stuck in your throat. The vulnerability between the two of you was overwhelming, and yet, it felt like everything had finally clicked into place. There were no more doubts. No more fear.

Joel smiled softly, the warmth of his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We’re here now.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, a promise, a shared truth. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his presence sink into your bones, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you. It felt like everything you’d hoped for was finally coming into focus.

Joel gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the softness of your skin as he looked at you, his eyes full of tenderness and something deeper. His gaze was steady, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he found was you—vulnerable, open, and more than ready for what was happening between you two.

“You’re not alone,” he murmured, his voice low but full of meaning. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, with you.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your heart swelling with emotions too big for words. “I know,” you whispered, a smile finally tugging at the corners of your lips. “I know now.”

Joel’s smile deepened, and in that moment, it was like the world outside of your little bubble didn’t matter. All that existed was the two of you, tangled up in something more real and beautiful than you could have imagined.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with the softest of touches, as if asking for permission. And when you responded, meeting him halfway, the kiss deepened, both of you tasting the sweet vulnerability of this new chapter.

You pulled away slowly, your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling. “You’re gonna get sick now”

Joel chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take my chances,” he murmured, his hands finding their way back to your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m not letting go now.”

You laughed quietly, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “You’re stubborn,” you said, but there was no annoyance in your voice—just affection.

“And you love me for it,” he replied with a playful grin, his thumb tracing small circles on your back.

You smirked, rolling your eyes slightly, though your heart was full. “I do,” you admitted, your voice soft, the words carrying more weight than you’d ever thought they would. “I really do.”

Joel smiled, his expression softening as he leaned in once more, brushing his lips against yours, but you placed your hand up to stop him for a moment, hanging the little mistletoe over your heads.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin as you held the mistletoe above your heads. "Where do you get that from?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You smirked, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and mischief. "I stole it from you," you replied, your voice teasing, yet sincere.

Joel chuckled, the sound warm and full of affection. "I should’ve known," he said, shaking his head with a playful sigh. "You’re sneaky."

You shrugged, the mistletoe still hovering between you. "I had to make sure it was the right moment."

He chuckled again, and this time, his hands found your waist once more, pulling you close as he leaned in, his eyes softening. "Well, since you put it like that..."

With a grin, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss deepening as you both shared in the quiet joy of the moment.

Joel pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft and full of warmth. "You know," he said, his voice low and sincere, "you’re the best gift I could ever ask for."

You felt your heart swell, and a soft smile tugged at your lips. His words, simple yet heartfelt, made everything feel right. Before you could respond, Joel’s grin returned, playful yet tender.

"And," he continued with a teasing glint in his eyes, "I hope you’ll take care of me when I inevitably get sick from all this kissing."

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. "Oh, don’t worry," you replied, your tone light but affectionate, "I’m more than happy to take care of you."

Joel chuckled, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. "Good," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

The warmth between you both felt like the perfect ending to a night full of new beginnings, and as he kissed you again.

And again.

And he thought he would never get tired of it.

355 notes · View notes

writingwithciara · 18 days ago

Text

across the hall; part 4 -quinn hughes-

summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care

word count: 2.2k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader

notes:

y/n woke up the next morning feeling different. something about what happened yesterday made things blur between her and quinn. they were friends, sure. but there was no denying the chemistry between them, no matter how little it was.

she got out of bed and got herself ready before heading down the hall to abby's room. she pushed the door open slowly and saw abby sitting up in bed, already dressed.

"good morning, princess. how long have you been up?"

"20 minutes. i dressed myself. see?"

"i see that." y/n smiled and crouched down to abby's level.

"do you like it?"

"i love it." she ran a hand through abby's hair. "you excited to stay with quinn today?"

"yes. and bella."

"i forgot you like her too."

"she's so nice. i hope she has candy today."

"oh i'm sure she will." y/n stood up. "will you let me do your hair today?"

"can quinn do it?"

"i think he's already gone." y/n smiled and walked towards the bathroom. there was a knock on the door so she turned around and headed back. y/n opened the door and smiled when her eyes landed on quinn. "hey. i thought you would've already left by now."

"i was getting in my car when i remembered that abby doesn't really like getting her hair done so i thought i'd come back up and see if she wanted me to get it done for her."

"you know what? i think she would really like that. thank you." y/n closed the door and followed quinn to the bathroom. when he stuck his head in, y/n didn't even have to see the look on abby's face to know she was happy.

"hey kiddo. i'm here to do your hair."

"yay!" she giggled and y/n set her up on the counter before leaning against the doorframe.

"thanks for this, quinn." y/n watched as he brushed abby's hair genttly and began to put it into two braids.

"it's no problem at all. saves you the trouble, right?"

"yeah. right." y/n was in awe. not only with his work on the hair but with the way he was helping her. there was never going to be enough ways to repay him for everything.

"there. all done." quinn stood back to admire his work. "you girls ready to go?"

"yeah. we'll be right behind you." y/n grabbed some stuff off the kitchen counter and shoved them into her bag. abby went to her room to grab her own bag and joined her mom in the front hall. quinn opened the door for them and while y/n locked it, quinn picked up abby and put her on his shoulders. she giggled and held on tightly.

the three of them made their way down to to the parking garage. quinn helped get abby buckled in before heading over to his car.

"you'll be right ehind me, right?"

"yes." y/n smiled while quinn got in is car and drove out. she was about to start her car when andy knocked on her window. "what are you doing here?"

"can we talk?"

"can it wait? i've got somewhere to be."

"okay well you don't work until later, so..."

"i don't want to know how you know that." y/n shook her head.

"where are you going?"

"it's really none of your business, andy." y/n sighed and pulled out her phone. she drafted an sos text to quinn and was hovering over the send button but she looked back at andy.

"i just want to talk."

"we can talk later. i'll text you when we get home, okay? please?"

"alright fine." he stood back and watched y/n drive out. she quickly erased the drafted text and decided to call quinn instead.

"hey. i just parked. you here yet?"

"no. i ran into andy before i had the chance to leave."

"he didn't....he didn't hurt you, did her?"

"no. i'm fine." she couldn't help the way her heart seemed to leap at quinn's words. "i'm pulling into the parking garage now. what level are you on?"

"second. i'll wait by my car for you."

"okay." y/n turned onto the second level and when she saw quinn saving a spot for her, her heart began to melt. he moved out of the way and when she was in park, he helped get abby out of her seat. "are you sure nobody will mind us being here?"

"i already called ahead to make sure. told them it was a protection thing and they understood."

"thank you." y/n smiled and before she could take a second to think, quinn was grabbing her hand and walking towards the locker room.

"you can stay out here and wait for me or you can head on in towards the bench. bella will be there to meet you guys."

"yay. bella." abby looked at quinn. "do you know if she has any candy?"

"i'm not sure. but she might." quinn set abby down next to y/n and stood up. "i'll see you guys in 10 minutes."

y/n nodded and headed down the tunnel with abby right beside her. when she saw bella waving, the two of them made their way to her.

"i'm so glad you're here. i don't usually come to the arena this early but when quinn called me yesterday and asked if i could keep you two company, i immediately agreed. couldn't say no to you guys."

"you don't mind keeping an eye on abby for me during the game?"

"not at all. work is important." bella smiled and looked down at abby. "i brought you something."

"is it candy?"

"as a matter of fact, it is." she smiled and handed abby a bag of candy. "i got more in my car but we should definitely save that for the game."

"okay. thank you." abby dug into the candy and smiled.

y/n looked out at the ice. "so what's quinn like? i feel like i know a lot about him. but at the same time, i also feel like i don't know enough. know what i mean?"

"i totally get it. he's certainly an enigma. but like i said last time we talked, he was a fairly grumpy guy before he met you. he's also really sweet and protective of the people he cares about. from what i've witnessed, that includes his family, his teammates, the wags and now you."

"what are the wags?"

"wives and girlfriends." bella smiled and turned her attention to the boys walking out of the tunnel and making their way onto the ice.

"oh."

"yeah. and don't be alarmed or scared if you're grouped into the wag category. they'll see you hanging out with us and honestly, sometimes, it's easier for the staff."

"alright. thanks for the heads up." y/n looked directly at quinn and found it hard to take her eyes off him as he skated around with brock. both the boys looked over at the bench and smiled.

"so, tell me your story. what brings you to vancouver?"

"i was in a really shitty relationship and i needed to get as far away as possible. so i moved out here and even this wasn't far enough."

"what do you mean?"

"he found me somehow. but quinn has been the perfect buffer and i couldn't be more thankful i moved into the right apartment."

"you know, when quinn first told us about you, i thought you were his girlfriend. and even when i met you, that's what it seemed like. you two compliment each other in ways i've never seen before. and forgive me if i'm overstepping but it seems like there might actually be something between you."

"i don't think there is. and even if there was, it wouldn't work. we both have busy lives and things would turn difficult real fast." y/n smiled at quinn when he skated up to them.

"how are my two favorite girls?" he looked at abby and smiled when she handed him a piece of candy.

"we're doing great. loving the practice." y/n smiled and handed him his water bottle. her phone buzzed in her pocket so she pulled it out. "my boss wants me to come in early." she glanced down at abby. "will you be a good girl for everyone today?"

"yes mama." she continued eating her candy while y/n started walking away.

"wait." quinn caught up to her. "i'm going to need abby's seat for later."

"oh right." y/n smiled and walked towards where she parked. quinn had to change out of his skates so he was a little behind. when he caught up to her, he grabbed the seat from her backseat and smiled. "thanks again for today, quinn. i don't know what i'd do without you."

"it's no problem. i love having abby around."

"she loves having you around too." y/n grinned and opened her door. before she got in, she leaned up and kissed quinn's cheek. "i'll see you later."

quinn was frozen for nearly a minute after she left. he touched his cheek and felt the heat from the kiss there. things just got so much more confusing for him.

he put abby's seat in his car and headed back into the building before he could get in trouble.

the rest of practice went by fast. abby and bella were walking towards the locker room to wait for the boys when abby turned to look at bella.

"bella?"

"yes sweetheart?"

"thanks for the candy."

"you're welcome, darling." she smiled and continued holding the little girl's hand.

the second quinn came out of the locker room, abby ran to him. he picked her up and smiled.

"hey kiddo. it's still pretty early so how about we go and get some lunch?"

"yes. i am starving."

"you and brock want to join us?" he asked as he glanced over at bella.

"yeah sure. that sounds like fun." bella grabbed brock's hand and followed quinn to the garage. "we're parked on another level so just text us where we're eating and we'll meet you there."

"okay. see you guys in a bit." quinn walked to his car and buckled abby in. "you having fun today?"

"absolutely." abby kicked her legs happily while quinn pulled out of the garage.

"alright. where do you want to eat?"

"the restaurant we ate breakfast at yesterday. can we eat there?"

"absolutely." quinn sent a quick text to both brock and bella before continuing their travel.

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later that night, quinn played his best but ended up getting taken out halfway through the 2nd period. knowing what he might've needed, bella brought abby down to the locker room and waited for the medic to finish up. when he left, she brought abby into the room.

"i know this isn't exactly what you wanted, but it's the next best thing. i promise." she smiled at him as abby ran and hugged him.

"this is what i needed. thanks, bella." quinn smiled back as bella left the room. "i'm sorry if the game has been disappointing for you."

'it hasn't. i liked it all. until you got hurt." she reached up and tapped the bandage on his arm. "do you have to stay here until the end of the game?"

"yeah. unfortunately i do. but you can stay here with me if you want. or bella can take you back to your eat."

"am i allowed to stay here?"

"not in the locker room. but we hang out in the media room and watch the rest of the game."

"okay. let's go."

quinn brought abby down the hall and into the room where they would be spending the remainder of the game. after the 2nd period, they both went back to the locker room to chat with the team. abby sat in quinn's locker space while he went to the coach. brock, who was sitting next to her, offered her a piece of candy.

"what do you think of the game so far?"

"i love it. i don't like that quinn got hurt though. that guy was mean."

"yeah, he was. but quinn is way tougher than he looks." brock chuckled.

"yeah. i think that's why mommy likes him."

brock raised his eyebrow. he wanted to ask more but quinn came back over.

"alright. time to go back to the media room, abby."

"okay quinn." abby ran to the door when she saw bella. brock wanted to tell quinn what abby just said to him but he didn't have enough time. so instead, he headed down the tunnel while quinn ran to catch up with bella and abby.

half an hour later, the game was over. and the canucks had lost.

as quinn drove home with abby, he wanted nothing more than having y/n waiting there for him. their friendship was still a little new so he knew he couldn't say how he was feeling about the girl across the hall. but he could keep it inside as long as possible.

he didn't want to mess up what they already had. and with the added complication of andy, he knew there would never be a right time to tell her. he was just going to have to learn how to deal with it.

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tags: @alwaysclassyeagle

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #qh43 #vancouver canucks

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