#i know its hard but try not to miss her too much :3
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I’ve Got You (LN4)
Summary: In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.
Warnings: none <3
Note: this is based off when Lando’s quali lap times were deleted and he was just sitting there looking at his hands all sad :(
“Where is he?” Y/n threw the headphones off her head the moment she caught wind of the news.
Andrea approached her softly, a hand up, “He’s doing the post-quali interviews, Y/n.”
She shook her head at him, “So, what? He’s just sitting there as they converse about his lap time? Andrea, you know how he gets with these things. He shouldn’t be alone.”
Andrea stepped in front of her when she tried to maneuver around him, trying to get to Lando, “Y/n, there are too many cameras. We can’t ensure PR.”
She blinked at him, “Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck PR. I don’t care about anything, but getting to him right now. He should not be alone right now. I mean, look at him!” She waved her hand toward the TVs, screens showing Lando picking at his nails as clear embarrassment sunk into his body, “He doesn’t even want to be alone right now.”
Andrea huffed, eyes glancing to the side before landing back on her and nodding, “Fine, but no major PDA.”
She loved Andrea, she truly did, but she gave him a nasty look before rushing off.
—
She weaseled her way through the crowds, tears springing her eyes at the image of Lando sitting idly by himself. A man stopped her when she tried to get passed the barriers, “Miss, you do not have authorization to enter into this area.”
She smiled at him, “I’m his girlfriend.”
That didn’t mean anything in the eyes of security, “Okay.”
A frown found its way onto her face, “Sir, please. I’m trying to comfort someone I love.”
He continued to shake his head, “I understand, but I cannot allow you into this area. I can’t confirm who you are.”
Hands tied, her eyes spotted Oscar and she yelled him over. When his feet landed him feet away from the situation, he didn’t need anytime to realize what was going on. Oscar grabbed Y/n’s arm, “It’s okay. She’s with me.”
The man thought for a moment before allowing her through, a smile on her face as she thanked Oscar. He waved it off, asking her to promise a happier Lando. She would try, she said.
Lando saw her feet first. Her white sneakers that she loved so much aligned in his vision and he stopped picking at his fingers. His gaze slid up her form as she sat down next to him, hand sliding under and around his arm softly. She heard the murmurs, they were incredibly loud, and the camera clicks, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She could practically feel the upset melting off Lando. She hurt so much for him.
His body relaxed at the feeling of her warmth and when she laid her head on his shoulder, he laid his on the top of her head.
“I’m sorry, baby.” She whispered. Maybe lip readers would figure out what they said.
His hands went to fidget with the nails on his fingers, but she stopped him, linking their hands and softly rubbing his skin, “It’s okay. I need to work harder. I can’t keep failing like this.”
She squeezed his hand three times, a silent confession of love, “You’re not failing. You haven’t failed, Lan. Everybody is proud of you. Racing is a hard sport and you are one of the most talented drivers here. You’re so so hard on yourself, love.”
Lando chuckled, “Y/n, you have to say these things. You’re my girlfriend.”
She pulled her head back lightly, giving him a moment to get his off her head before looking him in the eyes, “Lan, I don’t have to say anything. When have I ever lied to you? When have I not told you that an outfit looked bad when it did? When have I not told you that a move you did in the race screwed you over when it did? When have I not told you you handled a situation badly when you did? I’ve always been up front with you. This is a hard track. You are not a failure, Lan. Nobody thinks that.”
He was quiet for a moment before pecking her lips, “Even though part of me is still beating myself up over this, knowing you’re proud of me helps it subside a bit.”
She smiled, kissing his cheek whilst still rubbing his hand, “Of course, I’m proud of you. Lan, I will always be proud of you. Even when you don’t give your all, I’m proud of you for being you. Fuck anybody who thinks different, you’ve got this. You have shown time and time again that you’ve got this. I’m sure you’ll give it your all tomorrow and you’ll continue to show just how much you’ve got this.”
His head fell to the side with a soft grin, “You think so?”
She brushed the hair around his face away, “Yes, I do think so. And, hey, even if you don’t, if you DNF, I’ll buy you your favorite ice cream and we’ll watch a sad movie, have a good cry. We can turn anything bad into something good.”
He laughed, “How is crying a good thing?”
She gave him a deadpanned look, “Baby, you love a good cry.”
He leaned into her as he giggled, “You’re right. You know me too well.”
She nodded, “I love you, don’t I?”
“I love you too. Thank you.” He whispered, kissing her lightly in fear of the cameras. He never told her often, but Y/n had the greatest ability to talk him out of his moments of self-doubt. Whether it was small or big, she always knew just the things to say to make him snap out of his anxieties. Her superpower, turning his frown upside down.
He wished he was as good as her at it, but she was Y/n, his favorite person, she did everything better than everybody.
He loved her for it, he lived for it, he continued for it.
He loved her, he lived for her, he continued for her.
And when they told him his lap times had been deleted, the weight didn’t feel as heavy. Her arm wrapped around the side of his body as they walked away and her whispers of reassurance in his ear, the lap time situation began to feel smaller.
He accredited it all to her. Her words worked wonders, but, if he was being honest, a small look sent his way from her would do the trick. He guessed it was how much he felt for her, how much of his happiness lay with her.
Under the Qatar Grand Prix lights, Lando found peace. When the reporters asked him how he was coping with the loss, he had the same response every time.
“Some time spent in the presence of my girlfriend will work wonders.”
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris fic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris edit#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris blurb#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n
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hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x
hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff
Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.
Until you.
You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.
Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.
Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.
The others know it, too.
Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.
Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.
“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.
“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”
Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”
Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.
Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”
You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”
“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“
“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”
Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”
“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.
“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”
“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.
The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.
“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”
He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.
“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”
“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”
“Sure it is.”
When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.
You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.
“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.
Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner blurbs#aaron hotchner imagines#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x bau!reader#hotch blurbs#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds hotch#hotch criminal minds#aaron hotchner comfort#hotch x reader#hotch x you
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What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.
You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.
“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.
Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.
“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.
“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.
“Who is this?”
He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”
“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.
“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”
“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?
He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”
“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.
“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”
He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.
You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.
You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.
…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.
Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.
You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.
Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.
You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.
A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.
The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.
You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.
Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.
So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?
Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?
You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.
Wait, Molly!
You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.
It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.
You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!
You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.
BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’
BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’
BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’
BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’
‘Alfred :)’
BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’
You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.
The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.
As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.
‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’
You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.
‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’
Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.
‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’
And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.
‘The only acceptable one.’
…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.
The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.
You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.
It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.
You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.
‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’
She wants to what?
A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.
You creep over to the door.
“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.
You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.
Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.
She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.
“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”
You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”
She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.
“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.
Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.
She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.
You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.
Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.
“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.
“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.
You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.
You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.
You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.
“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.
Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.
“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”
“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.
Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.
You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’
“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.
‘Normal you’ certainly does.
“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.
This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.
The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.
You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.
You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…
In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.
You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.
Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.
You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.
You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.
You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?
Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.
“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”
You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.
You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.
Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.
A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.
The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.
Still, this is a bit…
“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.
“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.
“Yes, please.”
She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.
“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.
She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.
You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.
You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.
The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.
She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.
They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.
“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.
Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.
“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.
Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.
“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.
“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.
If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.
You wish Molly were here.
“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”
And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.
They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.
They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.
And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.
You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.
They’d gotten rid of the signs.
You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.
Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.
So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.
When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.
It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.
The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.
“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.
What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.
“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”
“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”
“Miss, miss, about your family…!”
Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.
Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.
The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.
Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.
You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.
In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!
You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.
Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.
“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.
The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.
“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”
It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.
“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”
And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.
“I don’t want to be here,” you say.
“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.
You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.
You are so out of your depth.
You turn back around to Jeanine.
“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.
“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.
“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”
You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.
Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.
You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.
You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.
You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.
You point at the tray, “I want that.”
He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.
“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.
You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.
Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.
Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.
So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.
You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.
Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…
The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.
It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.
“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.
It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.
First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam x reader#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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[ LET’S GET MARRIED ! ] — lhs <3
PAIRING. lee heeseung!student X femreader!student !
SYN. the uni is giving away free dorms! under one condition, in order to save your desperate broke ass student’s life, you’d have to get married. and who���d be the lucky person to marry you if not your childhood friend? no feelings involved of course!…..right?
GENRE. he fell first but she fell harder, basically being in denial for feelings at first, childhood friends to a married couple, fluff fluff fluff !
WARNINGS. mentions of getting married(obv), rest of enha and lesserafim’s yunjin & chaewon are in it too, mentions on having kids(no, there will be no kids here its nothing serious!!), mentions of food, being broke because of uni student life. (pls do lmk if i missed something!) || NOT PROOFREAD AND VERY POORLY WRITTEN!!
WORD-COUNT. 5.1k+ (damn!)
NOTE. this is me being extremely sorry for not continuing my heeseung smau by releasing a heeseung oneshot yay!! i actually got the inspiration from HAPPINESS (one of my fav kdramas!) please leave some feedbacks!! i really wanna know what you thought about it<3
when you were younger, you’ve made a wishing list to you in the future, as soon as you turn an adult.
three important wishes were ;
first, never go broke while being a uni student.
second, never get married before the age of 25.
third, never ever fall in love with your best friend since childhood, aka lee heeseung.
first one is already being a huge failure. younger you would be definitely disappointed in uni student you, not that you care that much, but being a broke student sucks.
“my parents are literally about to kick me out, i get that, i’m a 22 years old uni student who’s still living up their asses, they probably want some peaceful and quiet life” you smacked your head over the lunch table, both of your friends looking at you concerned.
“maybe it’s time for you to pay for the dor-“
“never! yunjin, tell her how broke i am”
“she has like 1 dollar in her bank account, she’s still taking loans from her parents” yunjin nodded and you rolled your eyes.
“you didn’t have to go that far”
“oh i did”
“oh i know! what if you just start working?” chaewon raised her voice a bit.
“i have no time!”
“excuses excuses blah blah blah” she mocked you.
“look at heeseung for example, he works in a part time job at the convenience store right next to uni” yunjin pointed out.
you searched through the lunch hall and found the one person you’ve been looking for, lee heeseung.
you’ve been stuck to him ever since childhood, with your mothers being the biggest best friends you’ve ever seen, it was pretty hard to not see him every day in your young days.
both of your mothers even got pregnant at the same time, and gave birth around the same time, you’re two days younger than him.
your photo album is full with pictures of you and him, and so are the hanged photos on your house wall.
your mother and his mother were your biggest shippers, forcing you both to hug each other and even wear matching clothes.
your elementary school memories are filled with heeseung next to you and the whole class shipping you two.
highschool days weren’t better either, guys who wanted to try a move on you were always so scared of heeseung, they were so sure you and him are dating, with the amount of glares they got from him it was really hard to think otherwise.
your highschool crushes rejected you, always giving the excuse of not wanting to be in a relationship, hiding the fact that heeseung warned them that if they’ll say yes he’ll make sure they never see a daylight again.
he was joking, really. he’s not the violent type, and he couldn’t really explain why was he feeling so jealous whenever he saw you confessing to a guy who isn’t him.
heeseung got used to watching you from afar and protecting you, and you got used to search him everywhere you go even in crowded places and having his company ever since childhood.
“hee!” you called and waved at him, he waved at you back with a smile on his face.
“i swear if i didn’t know both of you were childhood friends i would’ve think you’re a married couple or something” chaewon rolled her eyes and you scoffed.
heeseung continued his way to his usual table with his friends.
“thinking about ways to confess your love to her?” jake smirked and heeseung shook away his thoughts.
“hm? who?” he asked.
“it’s obvious who! don’t play dumb come on!” sunghoon playfully pushed the older one.
“we’re talking about Y/N! everyone in uni are talking about you, even those who know nothing about the two of you” jay remarked.
“there’s nothing between us, we’re just friends” heeseung shrugged.
“and i’m queen elizabeth” sunoo tsked.
heeseung rolled his eyes and began to eat, “you know, even if i did have a crush on her, why would she even accept my confession?”
“ohhhh~” his friends teased.
“it’s kind of obvious she likes you, we’ve watched her ever since we became friends with you, and the way she looks at you is just different” jungwon shrugged and ni-ki nodded.
“she’s always searching you in a crowded room, as if you’re her guardian angel and she only needs you in her life in order for it to be perfect” ni-ki then stole a few bites of heeseung’s meal.
“hey! not cool” heeseung scoffed and ni-ki giggled.
“it’s not bad to have a crush on your childhood friend, you know?” jake smiled, “sometimes all you need is a miracle” jay added.
“hey, let’s go on a work search for yo-“
“no no no yunjin not you too!!” you sobbed, “i have no time to work and i need to search for the cheapest dorm, a one i can actually afford as soon as possible”
“why don’t you just go and ask heeseung for help” chaewon shrugged.
“it’s not that easy, i don’t want him to worry about it too much, he works hard for his money too” you pout and they nodded.
“by the way! how’s the money for the uni dorms is going?” jake asked heeseung who was busy fighting with ni-ki over his food.
“i’m just a few shifts away from getting enough money, i’ll ask y/n to become my roommate as soon as— what?” he noticed his friends looking at him.
“y/n and you? being roommates?” sunoo teased.
“hey, me and y/n spent all our childhood together, my house is her house and her house is mine, it has been like that for a while” heeseung sighed and they all nodded hesitatly.
“still, you said y/n’s parents told you about her not being able to pay for the uni dorms, are you really willing to pay it all?” jungwon asked.
heeseung shrugged and took a bite from his food again, “it’s either that or she’ll get kicked out by her parents”
“you really are her guardian angel” ni-ki whispered.
“good morning! you have afternoon classes today right?” your mother woke you up with a smile smeared all over her face.
“mhhm” you hummed, still trying to adjust the bright sunlight that hit your face.
“i need you to bring some medicine for ms lee! she’s been sick and i bought her some things” your mother helped you to get up and shoved you a bag, “here”
“can you please just let me get—“
“you can get ready at theirs! quickly quickly go!” she pushed you outside of your house. damn, she really does hope you’d get out as soon as possible.
she was right though, heeseung’s house is your house, and your house is his. you have a few clothes and even a toothbrush at his house and he has the same at yours, getting ready there was never a problem to you.
a walk to their house is even less than 5 minutes so you weren’t worried about someone from your neighborhood getting a jumpscare and thinking you’re some kind of a zombie.
you took out the keys and opened the door, heeseung was sitting in the kitchen and eating his breakfast.
“don’t ask, been a rough morning, where’s mom by the way?” you asked him and he pointed at her room. you got used to call his mom your mom too.
you saw her sleeping so you left the bag and the medicine next to her, leaving a note saying good morning and instructions of how to take the medicine, as if she doesn’t know all of that.
“you have afternoon classes too?” you asked heeseung while getting ready. he was in his room, lying on his bed while playing some games on his phone.
“not really, i don’t have any class today” he chuckled.
“since when don’t you have any classes today?”
“ever since i decided that im too tired to go to uni”
you rolled your eyes and threw one of the pillows at him, “don’t be stupid! get up and get ready to go!”
he giggled and shook his head, “i’m joking, i took evening classes for today”
you pressed your lips together and nodded, you don’t know why but hearing him giggling always made your heart skip a beat, but you don’t have any feelings for him, like, at all. right?
afternoon classes started and before you knew it, it was already lunch time.
“y/n! you won’t believe it!!” chaewon shout.
“what is it?” you shout at her back even though you were sitting right in front of her.
“i found you a solution! you can get a free dorm!” she shout back.
“what!” you shout.
“can you stop shouting! for god’s sake you’re literally a 1 cm away from each other” yunjin, who was covering her ears yelled.
you and chaewon shared an eye contact and froze. yunjin is so scary when she’s angry.
“continue please” she coughed and let chaewon continue what she had to say.
“it might seem crazy what i’m about to say,” chaewon sighed, “the uni is giving away free dorms—“
“no way omg omg omg please tell me i’m dreaming this is not happening right now right this is not real righ—“
“under one condition!” she cut you off and took her phone out of her pocket to read the terms.
“in order to get a free dorm, you have to have at least one option applied ;
one, you’re younger than 18. two, you’ve been scoring A+ on ALL of your exams and three, you’re between the ages 18-25 and got married, or engaged” she finished reading and turned off her phone.
“but chaewon, i’m not younger than eighteen” you complained and rest your head on your arm who was lying on the table.
“nor scoring A+ on ALL of your exams” yunjin added.
“thanks yunjin, i needed that”
“always here to help”
“then you know what’s left” chaewon smirked and you sat up, looking at her with innocent eyes.
“no” you let out.
“oh yes”
“i have no one to marry to” you argued.
“yes you do!” yunjin replied.
“i do not!”
chaewon and yunjin raised a brow and crossed their arms, “you don’t?”
as heeseung entered the uni entrance, you ran towards his direction and stopped in front of him.
“y/n why are you still here—“
“let’s get married” you said it out loud in front of everyone who was around.
your surroundings suddenly became quiet and everyone was staring at you two, starting to whisper and waiting for heeseung’s answer.
instead of answering he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the entrance into a place in the garden next to the uni.
the walk there was making you so nervous and anxious, what if you were a bit too much? asking your childhood friend to marry you just to get a free dorm? are you that desperate?
when he finally stopped, he let go of your wrist and cupped your cheeks, looking straight into your eyes.
“what did you say?” he asked, his eyes looking for any sign or answer from you.
“i said, let’s get married”
heeseung could’ve swore his heart skipped a beat because he for real felt like he died at that spot.
“let me explain!” you said before he could respond.
“the uni are giving out free dorms to anyone who’s between the ages of 18-25 and is married or engaged” you sighed.
heeseung let go of his hold and sighed, looking down and closing his eyes.
you really didn’t mean that genuinely, did you? something in him really hoped you did.
“hee?” you asked, biting your lower lips, suddenly feeling more anxious than before
“sure, let’s get married” he chuckled.
you broke your second main wish on your list.
heeseung was just a few shifts away from getting enough money to get the both of you a place to live in, he could have told you that too, but he chose not to.
only crazy people would agree to this idea, you were so desperate that you actually just asked him to marry you, and he guessed he was one of those crazy people, because he had no idea why he said yes.
he had other way, without marrying you, but something about the idea of marrying you made him feel excited.
“i knew it i knew it! only crazy people would agr— wait what” you blinked a few times after you realized his answer.
“i said sure, let’s get married” he smiled softly and you were about to faint.
“no feelings are involved….right?” you hesitantly asked him, hoping he wouldn’t agree with you.
instead, he nodded slowly and hesitantly, “no feelings involved”
you regretted that sentence so bad because the day after, when he kneeled on one knee and held a ring out for you in front of everyone and proposed to you, your couldn’t lie to yourself anymore, you actually broke your third wish on your list a few years ago, you were in love with lee heeseung for years.
“y/l/n y/n, i have loved you ever since i can remember, i watched you grow up and grew up with you as well, i got used to being with you 24/7, i can’t see the rest of my life without you in it, will you make me the happiest man alive and agree to marry me?”
even though it was an act(according to you), it felt so real to the point where you cried and sobbed so badly, while putting on the ring he bought for you less than 24 hours ago.
it wasnt planned. the proposal wasn’t planned at all.
the plan was that you and heeseung will go to the uni secretariat and request an application for the free dorm since both of you are engaged now.
heeseung had no reason to put on this whole show and show everyone that you’re now engaged. you have no idea why he did it, and instead of getting angry at him, you fell in love with him even more.
it felt wrong, it felt not right.
but you didn’t care, you always knew your feelings for heeseung were somewhere deep inside your heart. you tried to push them away all the time, because there was no way your childhood friend, the popular boy in your highschool, the kid who grew up with you, had feelings for you.
you tried to deny your feelings but now you realized thrre was no use anymore, so you let yourself love him as much as you can.
it wasn’t the desperation that lead you to ask him to marry you, because then you’d ask literally any other guy, it was your pure love to him, to the guy who was always there for you when you needed him.
“heeseung! explain what was that!” his six other friends gathered in a circle, surrounding him and not letting him go.
“what was wha—“
“you and y/n? married?” jungwon shout.
“have you gone crazy?” jake added.
“and she said yes! something is not right” jay joined.
“yesterday you told us you have no feelings for her!” sunoo remarked.
“you didn’t even believe us when we told you she’s obviously in love with you” sunghoon tsked.
“something isn’t sitting right to me” ni-ki gasped.
“explain now!” they all said at the same time.
“calm down!” heeseung coughed, “i’ll explain to you everything later”
by later he meant after classes, at his house, together with you and your friends yunjin and chaewon.
“yunjin, chaewon” heeseung nodded at your friends.
“lee heeseung” they glared at him.
“come on! both of you knew about it even before” you pleaded.
“doesn’t change the fact that he’ll be stealing you from us now” they rolled their eyes.
“i’m still so confused” ni-ki tried to quicken everyone and get to the point.
“me and y/n are getting married—“
“yeah no shit sherlock” sunghoon cute him off and heeseung glared at him.
“anyway, y/n would you like the explain why?” he turned to you and smiled.
“the uni is giving away free dorms to married couples between 18-25 so—“
“you decided to get married to get a free dorm” jay finished your sentence.
“have you gone mad? heeseung worked his ass to get enough money to get the dorms for the bo— mhhhhmmm!!!” sunoo roamed but jake covered his mouth before he could continue.
“sunoo!!” jake coughed and turned to you with a smile, “don’t mind him he’s been stressed from work and uni lately”
the rest of you giggled awkwardly and tried to ease the atmosphere.
after you yunjin and chaewon left, the boys stayed with heeseung, looking at him with concern.
“what?” heeseung looked at them back with his bambi eyes.
“i don’t know hee, it feels like….she’s kind of using you” sunghoon spoke, jay slapped his arm and he whined.
“he’s right though, marrying you only to get a dorm is quite crazy” jungwon nodded.
“he’s even crazier for actually agreeing to all of this” ni-ki said and jake shushed him.
“ni-ki is right, i am crazy, i have no idea why i said yes but she wasn’t forcing anything on me” heeseung shrugged, “besides, i’ve liked her for so many years so—“
“ah ha!! we knew it!” they all said at the same time and heeseung sighed. what have he got himself into?
after everyone left, heeseung texted you, asking you to meet him in your usual spot.
you got ready and for the first time, you took a while to do so.
you stared at yourself in the mirror a few times and even checked different outfits. this has never happened to you ever before, especially not when you knew that you’re going to see heeseung.
heeseung saw you at your worst, why are you dressing up for him now then?
“i must be crazy, crazy crazy!” you shook away your thoughts and got out to meet your soon-to-be-husband.
“hee!” you saw his back facing you and as soon as he turned around you froze.
did he dress up for you too? why does he look so breathtaking suddenly? his bambi eyes match the rest of his beautiful features on his face so much, you’ve seen this man grow up, you know every detail about his face and you couldn’t explain why it was so sudden that you got caught by surprise because of his beauties.
shaking away your thoughts, you walked closer to him and smiled.
“hey hubby” you grinned.
“hubby?” he asked.
“a new nickname for my soon-to-be-husband” you chuckled and he nodded.
“i actually thought about something,” he turned to you, “our parents will figure it out sooner or later, should we tell them the truth or—“
“no, let them believe we’re getting married without any reason other than being in love”
you have no idea why you just said that. but you hid your face as soon as you realized what just came out of your mouth.
heeseung felt too flattered and suddenly didn’t know what to say. you keep on making him speechless.
“ahem,” he cleared his throat, “you do know that they’ll probably rush out things and even take the wedding plan to their own hands“
i don’t care, i’d like to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you as soon as i can. is what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
“y/n?” he asked. he noticed you were too deep in thoughts and waited for you to come back to sense.
“i’m aware” you nodded, “i’ve also got a text from the uni, we’ll be getting our dorm in the next week, so we should start preparing”
heeseung nodded and looked at you. you were suddenly feeling so nervous and shy to share an eye contact with him, so you broke it as he just kept staring at you and taking in your beauty.
“hey y/n” he said, “hm?”
“i don’t mind marrying you and spending the rest of my life being married to you”
you looked over him and he had the genuinest smile you’ve ever seen.
it felt like the world had froze, and the snow that was falling suddenly stopped, it felt like it was just the two of you in this whole world.
“YOU’RE GETTING WHAT?” your mother yelled.
you and heeseung planned a dinner with both of your parents, to announce the big news.
things became quite awkward between the two of you, ever since your last encounter with him you could barely face him.
his sudden confession freaked you out and the only thing that came out of your mouth was “oh, okay” in the most dry way ever.
you wanted to tell him you feel the same, you wanted to tell him that you’ve been in love with him ever since forever. but one moment that caught you off guard ruined your chance.
you were stupid, stupid and idiot. heeseung probably thinks you hate his guts now.
heeseung in the meantime felt like he was breaking apart slowly. oh, okay?? that’s all you had to answer?
he felt dumb, he felt hopeless. the confession was completely out of the blue and unplanned, your beauty hypnotized him and he was so mesmerized by you that the words just came out of his mouth naturally.
what if you hate his guts now? what if he made you uncomfortable? what if you’ll regret it the last minute because you weren’t feeling the same about him?
all of those questions were eating him alive, and you didn’t help either. each time he came up to you, you were suddenly in rush and told him you have to go, it was breaking him inside slowly.
the dinner was one chance to finally talk with you again.
“married, mom. we’re getting married” you repeat what you already said a few seconds ago.
“when? where? how?” heeseung’s mother asked.
heeseung looked at you and smiled warmly, “it just happened, we’ve been together ever since childhood, it already felt like being in a relationship for so long, so we decided to marry each other” he chuckled and held your hand tightly, “to belong to each other until the day we die”
your parents looked at the both of you. you were sharing eye contact for so long, with heeseung smiling at you, looking deep into your eyes, and with you looking at him with nothing but pure love in your eyes that was making everyone in the room feel so jealous of you two.
“now kiss!” your mother said.
you and heeseung broke the eye contact and blinked a few times.
“what?” you asked.
“kiss then! i want to picture it and keep it in my photo gallery forever!” his mother added.
you were about to speak up until heeseung held your cheek to turn you to face him and it was only a matter of seconds until you felt his lips on yours.
it was your first kiss ever, your first time kissing someone, and it was his as well, but he lead you on so good that it made it look less awkward.
you were his first kiss. you, his childhood friend, stole his first kiss.
“we knew that it’ll happen one day!!” your mothers cheered, “we even have a whole wedding plan ready!!”
you and heeseung broke the kiss and shared an eye contact again.
you didn’t need to hear him say to know how much love he holds for you, and how he cherishes you so much.
and your eyes told him everything, they held the answers to all of the questions that bothered him. you love him as much as he loves you.
“i can’t believe you’re getting married, my little angels” your parents cried altogether which made heeseung let go of his hold on you and grab some tissues to wipe their tears.
“i love that ring by the way! heeseung you did a great job” your mother gave him thumbs up and he chuckled.
if only she knew that it was a ring he bought you in less than 24 hours and even rushed your friends to come with him and help him pick it only because he wanted his whole life to properly propose you.
it was a moving day already and your parents helped you pack every last thing, they even cried through the way, how could their princess leave them so fast?
“you can visit our house anytime!” you tried to comfort them.
“we’ll update you before that, we don’t want to catch you while doing the thing you know” your mother winked and you rolled your eyes, “mom!”
“i see you’re all packed and ready” heeseung came in to check on you.
“she is! take her away already!” your mother complained.
“not before you take this with you!” she went away for a few seconds and came back with a huge wrapped photo frame.
“don’t open it yet!! only when you get into your new house and get everything in place!!” she excitedly hugged the both of you and you nodded.
moving in was quite rough, you had a lot of boxes to unpack and organized, and you and heeseung never felt more awkward after the first kiss you shared.
you’ve barely spoke with each other and your friends were starting to get concerned.
“he told me he doesn’t mind marrying me and spending the rest of his life with me” you pout.
yunjin and chaewon shout and giggled, “girl! he’s more than in love with you!! he’s lovesick!!” they both said.
“what did you answer then?” yunjin asked.
“i told him okay” you smacked your head on the table.
“no way” chaewon gasped.
“yes way” you whined.
“you’re stupid!!” they both smacked you.
“then!!” you shout, “we had our first kiss on dinner in front of our parents” you whispered that part.
“what did you say? couldn’t hear you” chaewon said.
“oh she said that they shared their first kiss on dinner with their— YOU HAD YOUR FIRST KISS WITH HEESEUNG??” yunjin’s eyes widened.
“what happened after that?” chaewon asked curiously.
“we just finished dinner, and now we barely even talk” you sighed, “each time i see him i’m just blushing and running away, i can’t face him!”
“you have to!! you’re moving in soon!!” yunjin argued and chaewon nodded.
“it’ll be the death of me” you sobbed and they chuckled.
you were right at first, but slowly and surely heeseung made a joke and both of you got back to normal in no time, as if nothing happened between you two.
you even helped him organizing his closet and his room, and he did the same.
after a long day you and heeseung finally laid down on your now shared sofa.
“it’s been a rough day” you sighed.
“should we order something?” he suggested and you nodded immediately. you ended up ordering your favorite food.
“let’s open up the picture!!” you said and grabbed the picture your mom gave you earlier today.
you and heeseung both unwrapped it together and revealed an old picture of you and heeseung hugging each other with a huge smile on your faces.
“look at us then and look at us now” he giggled.
both of you hanged the picture right above your sofa and kept staring at it for a while.
“hey hee,” you spoke, “yeah?”
“i wouldn’t mind marrying you and spending the rest of my days with you too” you turned to him, “until the day i die”
“is that your way of telling me you love me too?” heeseung froze for a second. you caught him off guard for the countless time already.
although he understood very clearly your feelings after you shared your first kiss, hearing your words made his heart beat fast.
it was a confirmation for him that all of his feelings for you were actually mutual all this time.
instead of answering his questions you grabbed his shirt and kissed him.
he put his hands around your waist and pushed you closer to him, holding you tightly as if he’s too scared to let you go.
breaking off the kiss was hard, but the lack of oxygen was kicking in, you pressed your foreheads together, still with your eyes closed.
“does that answer your question?” you giggled and you felt him smiling.
“i don’t think so, i need a bit more of it to feel certain” he teased and you tsked.
“i don’t need to be in a relationship with you to feel certain about my feelings and my willingness to marry you, i want to spend my life with you, i love you” you said and pecked his lips.
“i love you too, y/n” he pecked your lips again and it suddenly got into a fight between you two about who pecks the other more, until it ended up in a long, deep kiss.
“so let me get this straight. you and heeseung had been in denial for many many years and manipulated yourself into thinking that you don’t like each other at all at all, then when y/n’s desperate and broke ass heard of a chance to get a free dorm by getting married, she went up to you, heeseung, and asked her to marry you, you agreed to the proposal because at one point you stopped lying to yourself and realized you’re actually lovesick, and the rest is history” ni-ki finally breathed out after almost rapping this whole story.
“by history i mean y/n waking up from her denial and realizing her feelings to you” he added.
“yes, exactly” heeseung nodded and you chuckled.
you were sitting together with your friends on one table, yunjin and chaewon who were already aware of the story added a few notes here and there as ni-ki summarized your whole story.
“this is a story to tell your children” jay smiled and the rest nodded.
“we’re not planning to get pregnant anytime soon, we didn’t even have a wedding yet” you sighed.
“you never know y/n, you never know!” sunoo slowly nodded.
“why did you say that as if you went through something familiar” jungwon teased.
“you never know y/n, you never know!” sunghoon mocked sunoo.
“that was a good one!” jake laughed with him.
“children, literal children who found themselves in uni somehow” you sighed.
“at this point we won’t even need to have any children when we have them” heeseung agreed with you.
“it doesn’t matter, as long as i’m with you” you smiled and pecked his lips.
“get a room you two will you!”
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#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#heeseung scenarios#heeseung fluff#enhypen heeseung#heeseung angst#lee heeseung x reader
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ellie x plushies obsessed reader hq’s
or
ellie beefing with plushies for 40 minutes straight
or
ellie fucks u with a plushie <3
♡ first of all, dont get it wrong. ellie buys you the actual plushies she has this ongoing beef with. she straight up walks around town, probably dealing or some shit, and then she just sees a plushie that is so you from the window of a kids store, and she staright up runs to get it. jesses all like “where the f-….” and one second later, he sees her standing in line, holding a pink squishmallow ready to pull out her credit card. “sorry” she mouthes to him. “for my girl”
♡ as much as ellie loves to see your face light up when she comes home with a limited edition sanrio plushie, she loves trolling you even more. shed literally see a demonic looking plushie and get it for you, only to see how upset you get over it. shit makes her laugh so hard. shes all giggling like “wh- babe its pretty!! look at its eyes its like he sees through you- s’romantic actually”, she speaks, trying to hold her laughter. youre standing there, simply baffled, just staring at her. “ellie. that is a spongebob plushie and it looks deranged- and why is he missing a shoe?!” you question. she just huffs and says “i dont know” with a guilty look on her face. when you deadpan her she just says “i wanted to see what its feet look like” ¿¿¿ you shove her and she gets all offended and says “pfft… you dont get it” you tell her that monstrosity is not welcomed in your home and she ends up. sleeping with it. every night. ellie sleeps with a spongebob plushie (i hc ellie as being a spongebob lover btw i know shed be quoting him like hes kafka)
♡ one night, you walk to your room, the door is like half closed and you just keep hearing sounds of huffing and muffled breaths. you take a peak, and you literally see ellie flipping off and mouthing “fuck you” to all of your little plushies. youre standing there with this shocked expression, baffled to see your girlfriend pretending to punch the plushies and whispering at them to fuck off. you walk in, and ellie turns to look at you and she looks so guilty, like joel just caught her eating cookies at 3am. “ellie. what are you doing?” you question. she huffs, rolls her her eyes, “they were looking at me weird”
♡ youre naked together, cuddled up after getting your pussy destroyed, and ellie takes out two plushies from behind her. “this is you” she points at the pink ribboned plushie, “and this is me” she points at the black squishmallow. she takes both of them in her hands, bumps them together, and begins demonstrating her wonderful show. the black squishmallow is humping the pink one from the back. ellie pants heavily. “els.” you say, warning her. she gives you a sly look. “mmmhm ellie” she moans. “fuckkk ellie- so so good” youre so shocked, you cover your eyes under the blanket before you even think to grab them off her hands. “taking it so good” she says with a darth-vader like voice. “fuck me harder please” she mocks in a high pitched voice and starts moaning like a porn star. your cheeks are so hot you cant even move. “gonna cum- ellie lemme cum” shes screaming now, youre pretty sure your neighbors can hear. you start kicking her beneath the blanket, and that only makes it worse “ellieeeeee get me pregnant” she yells and moans louder and louder. youre basically assaulting her legs now, pushing her away, which leads her to finish her wonderful spectacle with a “best ive ever had ellie. best ive ever had” youre screaming and yelling at her for sexually harassing your dolls and shes laughing like a maniac, literal tears fall from her eyes. “ooooh-“ she wipes a tear. “that was so fucking funny” she speaks, holding her stomach wheezing. “not funny” you deadpan. “too funny. ahh- shouldve been a comedian” she says. she shouldnt.
♡ shes buried deep inside, your leg resting on her shoulder, tears falling from your eyes from how good, how intensely shes fucking you. a white creamy circle starts forming on her strap. “you crying?” she teases, squeezing your cheeks together forcefully. “mhm-mhm ellie” you whine, cunt flooded with pleasure, and pain, because its so big, and shes so fast. “cry some more” she commands, panting over you. “taking me so so good… my good girl” she coos, lost in the feeling of the harness bumping her clit, and her girl coming undone beneath her. “cant take it… too much!” you plead. shes circling your clit, so slow, just to torture you some more. her hand stops squeezing your tit, and theres a little surprise shes holding on to. “take it” she commands, and places the plushie on your chest, staring directly into your eyes. “hug it for me. gonna make it easier, fuck” she rambles, feeling her own orgasm coming closer and closer. “el- so- so” you cry out, mumbling incoherently and squeezing the doll so tight its eyes almost pop. “jesus christ- cute, so fucking- cute” she pants. her breathing gets heavier and heavier and shes pushing the strap inside even deeper, squeezing out your arousal. “god damn” she growls.
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#lesbian#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams fanfic
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x curly
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
You were tapping the end of the pencil in your hand against your leg repeatedly while writing in your notebook, sitting cross-legged on your bed.
"The ship is still moving, but I could perfectly hear its engines from outside... that means it's following a route, it would be great to know where it's taking us... Could the autopilot have been activated unexpectedly?...That would be a miracle... How could we trace the route we are taking?..."
You were thinking out loud and biting the pencil, hoping someone else would respond, but when you turned to your side, there was no one.
You missed him too much.
You needed to clear your head, so you left your room putting on your jacket to take a walk.
As you stepped out and started wandering the hallways, you could see Jimmy approaching one of the dormitories.
"That is not your bedroom."
You mentioned exalting him and making him turn to look at you.
Jimmy: "I wanted... to see if Anya was okay, she looks very distressed."
"Don't do it, get out of there and leave her alone. Who wouldn't be distressed in a situation like this? Go to your bedroom and try to rest."
You pointed to the end of the hallway, waiting for him to leave, and when he did, you immediately peeked into Anya's room, seeing her deeply asleep in her bed.
You closed his door carefully and looked around, making sure no one was near.
You decided to do something risky.
You headed to the nursery to try to get in and see Curly, but you felt frustrated when you saw it was locked with a code. You entered one, and end up getting a denied access, you couldn't help but let out a sigh and lean your back against the door, then slid down to sit on the floor.
"Did you seriously set a code so I can't come in and see you when you're alone? That's very cruel of you."
You said, resting your head against the door, hoping he could hear you.
"I'm sorry... I know you must be feeling overwhelmed... I have no idea what state you're in... I don't even know if you can hear me... I want you to know that I'm doing my best to help everyone move forward... But even so, I miss you and I need you with me..."
You started playing with your hands while you continued talking.
"I still don't understand what happened, how we crashed, others think it was you but... It's impossible, you would never do something like that... Right?"
You turned, kneeling in front of the door, resting your forehead against it.
"That's not true, is it? You're not hiding there trying to avoid me because you feel guilty, are you?..."
You let out a small chuckle and gave the door a gentle punch.
"What am I talking about? Obviously, it wasn't your fault... It must have been an unexpected event, something you couldn't control... And I want you to know that I'm on your side... okay?... Goodnigth, darling."
You got up from that place to start walking around the ship, hoping to find some peace before sleeping.
The next day, Anya was very curious about what he was doing to her door.
Anya: "Is that a latch?"
"Yes, your door opens and closes during the nights, it makes a horrible noise, when you close it you can lock it with the latch to keep it in place."
You said, finishing installing that on the door, you tested it and pulled the door hard to make sure it would take a good hit to break it.
Anya lowered her head, as if she were hiding her sadness from you.
"By the way, do you know anything about the gun?"
Anya: "Why are you asking me that?"
"I can't find it anywhere, and I want to keep it out of reach of others, just in case."
Anya: "...No, I'm sorry, I don't know where it could be"
She responded still with her head down.
"Sheesh... I hope no one really has it."
You sighed, cleaning the dirt from your uniform, ready to go out and deliver the daily rations to everyone.
Anya: "Captain-"
She said almost as if she were letting out a sigh after holding her breath for a few seconds.
You turned to look at her, hoping she would tell you what she needs.
Anya: "...Don't forget Curly's rations..."
"Of course not, I've already made sure to set aside something he can consume."
You nodded to continue on your path.
Daisuke: "This is more than yesterday!"
"As I said, Curly can't eat the same as everyone else, so I've had to change the portions, making them a bit more for each one."
Jimmy: "Ha, I don't think you need more rations."
You took a deep breath, squeezing one of the packages you were handing to Daisuke to the point of making it explode, the cookies inside leaving them in crumbs.
Daisuke: "Aaaw..."
"Oh- I'm sorry- here, take mine-"
You said right away to hand them over.
Jimmy: "And tell me, (Y/n), have you found a way to return?"
"It takes time, Jimmy, I need time, and calm, and the patience you're making me lose!"
You aimed it, it was clear how your hand was trembling with the same rage you were feeling.
You still remembered your wedding day, after the ceremony, the disgusting way he looked at you in your dress, and you could hear what he said to Curly.
"That dress is about to tear apart, why did you marry that?"
Many were surprised by the captain that day; they had never seen Curly so angry with his friend. Jimmy thought he would react the same way when he said other hurtful or unpleasant things, but that wasn't the case.
You were never going to understand how your husband could be friends with someone so twisted.
And you would never understand how he decided it was a good idea to include him in the crew.
You held your wrist trying to stop it from trembling and stopped pointing it to smile at him.
"Here is your food"
You told him in the end, throwing his rations at his face.
"When we get home, I will make sure to tell the press that you were the only idiot who did nothing to help, just crying and complaining like a child. It's going to look great on your resume."
You finally handed over his rations to Swansea to leave and continue looking for a way to fix things.
Swansea: "You're never going to learn, huh? You love to annoy her."
Jimmy just clicked his tongue in annoyance, picking up his rations from the floor to take them to his room and lock himself in there for the rest of the day.
#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwash#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing x reader#swansea mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#captain curly#mouthwashing curly#do it for them mouthwashing
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hey!!! Ugh I just love your account! I have a request for Spencer Reid x fem reader!! Can you do one where he is always working and it makes the reader upset bc he is cancelling dates and coming home late and kinda neglects her feelings and doesn't really notice how much it affects her and how sad she gets and then he misses their anniversary dinner and she breaks and tells him that it makes her upset when he's gone all the time and he just feels so awful bc he's so in love with her and never wants her to feel that way because of him and apologizes and reassures her and makes sure she feels loved!!
ty for the request and i loved the idea for this one!
wishful thinking.
pairing :: spencer x fem!reader
warnings :: angst with a fluffy ending; very mild makeout session at the end :3
word count :: 2.4k
author’s note :: i kind of giggled at the ending as i was writing it, but i’m pretty proud of how this one turned out!
accompanying song :: neverthere by xander
spencer’s phone is quite literally the bane of your existence.
you know what to expect whenever it rings, so you hate when it actually does – its earthquaking vibrations and trilled beeps tear the happiness straight out of you.
it’s the second date in a row that he’s had to pass, and you wonder if you should just stop trying so hard. was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself, to have him seated right across from you, sharing your laughter as you pass him his plated pasta? were you expecting too much, imagining a serene life with him ten years down the road, perhaps with kids or pets of your own? was it unfair to think that you could craft a lie, telling him your stomach hurt really bad, so bad that you would have to curl up on the floor and pray he’d stay by your side just this once to comfort you?
all you ever wanted was spencer. more specifically, you wanted spencer during your first three dates, when he’d silence all of his phone calls, and wave them off like nothing even though you insisted he take them. maybe if you didn’t bring up the importance of taking work calls, none of this would have ever happened. maybe it was all coming back to bite you for your non-confrontational nature, since you could never plead him to actually stay.
but he’s your boyfriend… and that’s all that matters, right? after all, he has lives to save – people whose names are called out during prayers day and night by their loved ones as they cling on to the sliver of hope that your boyfriend and his team promise during the darkest hours. granted, spencer would drop everything if you were in a similar situation, but none of your problems have actually been life-threatening. but a girl can dream, can’t she? your first anniversary date was when spencer promised to make amends, a formal compensation for all of the past dates that he missed and left you feeling empty on your shared bed, stains of mascara chalked up on your dry cheeks.
“i’m so sorry, honey, i’ve just been… called in for work,” spencer stands, dusting the napkin that was folded nicely on his lap. you watch as he takes a sip of his glass of water, then walks over to you to plant a kiss on your forehead.
he runs his fingers along the velvety texture of the sleeves of your dress, and you offer him a weak smile.
“it’s okay, duty calls, right?” you feel the tears surfacing and you have to fight yourself to not blink. it’s too early to cry.
“i-it’s a really bad one this time, and i hate to do this on such an important day-” spencer begins to apologize frantically, and his face marks an expression of genuine concern with his brows furrowing and lips twitching.
“it’s okay. you need to go, i understand.” you state plainly, and you immediately feel shameful – your words are too assertive and snarly for how you normally respond.
spencer pauses briefly, fidgeting with his fingers, before he gives a slight nod in your direction. he then walks over to the couch, grabs a book, and tightens the clasps on his bag.
“i’ll be back as fast as i can,” spencer utters quietly and walks out of the door. when the apartment door locks with a click, you break down immediately.
at first, the tears fall one by one. but then, a salty stream evident of pure emotional wreckage makes its way into the slight gap of your lips, and it’s an unstoppable domino effect. your shoulders shudder and heave as you struggle to catch breaths in between, and you splutter cries of your boyfriend’s name.
maybe it would’ve been better to just stay as conversational partners, to exchange updates once in a while when he’d actually commit to a time. it was your fault for getting your hopes up high, and all of this – fanciful dinner and dressing your best for the occasion – was wishful thinking. you just didn’t want to admit it.
“y/n?”
you look up to see spencer in front of the doorway, and his bag that was barely holding on to his shoulder drops to the floor with a thud.
you quickly look away, brushing the tears away with one arm and sniffle before choking out a response.
“i thought you left already, why are you here?” again, your words come out icier than you had hoped and hit you with a sharp pang of guilt.
spencer narrows his eyes ever so slightly as if he’s scrutinizing you, observing your body language. it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re upset.
“i was going to. realized i forgot-,”
he clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows and proceeds, "i misplaced my wallet."
he slips out of his loafers, shoving aside his pair of converses that lie adjacent to your pretty pair of heels. he walks over to you, and you realize that you’re still seated at the dining table. you must look so stupid right now, waiting as if he’d just be returning from a bathroom break.
“i need to head out, but i promise… i promise we’ll talk about this really soon. we’ll have the anniversary dinner and-”
“did you even try?” you blurt out, and you look up at him with your puffy eyes glazed with tears.
a deathly silence clouds over the entire apartment, and you’re thinking of two options: leave the apartment and go run to a friend’s place, or confront him and see whether making amends – again, wishful thinking – would be possible.
“y/n. please believe me when i say that i’ve tried to, i’ve tried-”
you slam a hand to the table before standing up, your face twisting into an expression of outrage.
“no, because then you would’ve silenced it. you would’ve cut the call, just like you used to.” you fire your words at him as your hair sticks to the drying tears on your cheeks, and you begrudgingly wipe at your face.
a slow sigh escapes from spencer’s lips, and he looks at you with those eyes – the eyes that seemingly warn you, saying you don’t want to go there. not right now.
but you double down on him, the rage fueling your words as you lash out.
“it was just this one time. i only wanted you to stay for dinner just this one time.” you helplessly drop your hands to your sides, the tears landing on the floor with soft plops.
“i know. and i’m terribly sorry.” spencer bites his bottom lip and takes a step toward you. but you take a step back, and maybe that pulls a string between the two of you, because you can see how his shoulders tense up.
“look, can we talk about this when i get back? i’ll make it up to you, i swear.” he combs through his hair, the stress almost palpable as it leaks from his shaking fingers.
while you know he has to head out again, the way he so easily brushes off the conversation like it’s something he doesn’t even want to think about feeds into your disbelief. soon, however, your anger subsides into a tired frown.
“i don’t know, you might come home late… when i’m asleep or something.” you look at the wall where a photo of the two of you is framed, and you weakly smile at how happy you seemed then.
“i’ll give you a call, is that okay?” he searches your face for any signs of approval, but you’re zoned out thinking about the past, of how everything used to be.
“whatever, just go.” you wave him off and walk to the couch, where you lie down and turn against him to face the plush fabric.
spencer sighs, and his hand looms over your head momentarily before he grabs his wallet from the table. you hear a faint sorry trail from behind as he leaves the room, and your nails claw at the arms of the couch before the darkness cradles you once again.
it’s 10:30 pm, and you hear the doorknob click again. you had just cleaned up the dishes after eating dinner alone and left his portion in the fridge. you were now changed into your pajamas and getting ready for your night routine.
you peep out of your bedroom door to see spencer, his suit all wet. he looks at you as he takes off his shoes, and a sullen expression paints his face. did it start raining after he left? you realize that you were mostly cooped up in the bedroom since his departure, so you wouldn’t have known.
bravely looking up at him in the eye, you state: “you came back early.” you hate how unwelcoming you sound in his own home.
he pauses before he sets his wet bag on the floor and removes his blazer jacket to throw over a chair.
he approaches you, hands in his pockets and hair twisted in matted curls.
“hm.” he grabs a towel from the closet and makes his way to the shower, brushing past your shoulder. you feel an icy shudder spread through your spine after he closes the bathroom door.
was he giving you the silent treatment right now?
you hear the water start from the bathroom and you sink into your bed while turning to twist the lamp lights on.
after all that torturous waiting you went through, he was giving you the silent treatment?
fifteen minutes later, a knock reverberates from the other side of the bedroom door, and even though you don’t respond, spencer steps in. he’s changed into a t-shirt and black pajama pants, and he drops next to you on the bed.
“i’m taking the week off.”
the sentence startles you, and it’s something so unexpected you choke on your own saliva.
“what, what do you mean you’re taking the week off?” you ask him, finally turning to face him in the eyes. his brown irises blaze into your own.
“i’ve been pushing off everything you wanted to do with me — things that I wanted to do with you — and i’ve just been…” he turns away to play with the wrinkles on his pants as he speaks, picking out the dust that lies embedded between the folds.
he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep sigh. he continues, “i don’t know if it’s all worth it.”
silence casts a blanket over the two of you.
“spence,” you say after a while, and hesitantly lay a hand on his thigh.
“nothing’s more important in the world to me than you. you and your happiness. i know you love this job and i know you love helping people. you’re such a kind hearted man, and it’s why i fell in love with you in the first place.”
when spencer gives you no response, you confess: “spence, i get jealous sometimes.”
this time his eyes widen, and he looks at you.
“you do?” he asks softly, peering into your eyes and you cave instantly.
“of course i do. it’s… everybody wants you, spencer. we all need you, whether we realize it or not.”
he scoffs.
“but i only want you.”
his voice is raspy yet mellow at the same time, the smoothest stream of sweetness seeping through your eardrums. god. you can never stay mad at this gorgeous man, the same man that made you cry on numerous occasions just counting the past week.
“you need to do more than that, if you… you know.” you quietly murmur as you fidget with the hem of your nightgown.
“i know,” he speaks with a hushed tone. “i told hotch, and i told him it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. the demands of this job are… tough, but i don’t want to miss out on all the things we planned together. i won’t.”
you start bawling right when he delivers the last word, and all the tears that you were holding back spill over your flushed cheeks. your boyfriend immediately leans in to console you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his chin rests on top of your head.
it’s okay, he murmurs reassuringly. you ease into his touch, and you realize how much you missed this. how much you missed spending time with him.
his left hand tugs lightly at your soft hair while his right rubs your back in smooth circles.
“i missed you,” you speak with a hushed voice, looking up into his eyes as a glassy coat of tears blur your vision.
he cups your face with his hands before whispering, “i missed you too.”
you continue to blabber words of love-stained anguish but he cuts you off short, pulling you in for a short kiss on your lips, which are now tainted with your tears.
“you taste… salty,” he whispers, giving you a slight smile as he brushes off the rest of your tears that weigh down on your eyelashes.
“it’s because of you, silly,” you drawl as you taste the salty residue of your tears.
yeah, spencer responds hesitantly. but he’s wearing a small smile, tilting his head to one side as his eyes emit a glint of tranquilizing peace.
he reaches into his pajama pocket and takes out a piece of candy. you curiously watch as his fingers quickly remove the wrapper, revealing a glazed cherry-flavored sphere.
“may i?” he asks, and his faint voice is a gravitational force that you can’t resist.
you briefly respond with a lazy hm? before he plops the candy into your mouth and kisses you again. the sweetness explodes like fireworks with his warm breath, and the sticky layer of sugar melts like acid on your intertwined tongues. you let out a satisfied hum when you pull back, and it’s undeniably attractive the way spencer licks the corner of his lips.
a tear falls from your eye again, and this time, it’s not out of sorrow.
#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic#mgg x reader
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Felix Catton*Who is that?
Pairing: Felix Catton x f!reader
Word count: 1303
Warnings: Farleigh being judgy, pure fluff
Masterlist Here
It was during his first lecture when Felix saw you for the first time. he was sat near the back when you walked in and to Felix you were hard to miss. You definitely stood out being the only student in overalls and messy ponytail with a pencil shoved in it, but Felix found your get up oddly endearing.
He watched as you took the closest empty seat, the end chair in a row only 3 down from his which luckily gave him a great view of you. “What is she? A farmer?” Farleigh snorted when he caught sight of what Felix had been looking at.
Felix rolled his eyes at his cousin, “Lay off. I think it looks cool,”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “If you’re poor,”
Luckily the professor walked in right at that moment so Felix could tune out Farleigh who wasn’t even paying attention to the class. Neither was Felix but at least he tried but his attention kept being drawn back to you.
Unluckily however for him was that when the class was dismissed you were instantly swallowed by the excited to leave crowd meaning Felix wasn’t able to get your name.
-
the next time Felix saw you was at the fellows’ gardens at oxford. It was a rare sunny day in Britan, so Felix was currently taking a wander through the gardens with his mates when he saw you. you were laying by a tree reading a book above your head to block out the sun.
it was something he often did himself during the summer holidays at Saltburn and the sight of you doing the same filled his heart with an odd sense of nostalgia that was only knocked away when one of the girls who had joined their wander latched onto his arm suddenly.
Not wanting to deal with Farleigh’s comments right now Felix decided that he’d excuse himself in a couple minutes and double back so he could finally get your name but by the time he’d came back to the tree you were nowhere to be seen.
-
It was only a couple days till he saw you again however this time you disappeared even quicker. He was walking out of oxford with Farleigh and some friends when you came whizzing past them on a skateboard with your headphones on.
“Who even uses a skateboard?” Farleigh rolled his eyes as you disappeared too quick for Felix to catch your attention.
“Do you have to judge everyone?” Felix found himself snapping before he’d given it much thought, “You’ve not even met her,”
“Okay geez,” Farleigh said, raising his hands in mock defence, “Didn’t realise I was insulting your girlfriend or something,”
Felix scoffed at his cousin, not quite understanding why the words seemed to hurt, “I’ve not even met her mate. You’re just being an arse,”
-
-
Felix suddenly found you popping up everywhere but never getting the chance to actually say hello. He got close one time, less than a foot from you when suddenly Olly came over to get his attention and by the time, he looked back you were halfway down the corridor.
He didn’t even know you, yet you were consuming his mind especially since none of his friends had heard of you either. He decided to go to the pub tonight to try get his mind off of it when it happened again.
Felix saw you walk into the bar by yourself. He didn’t want to sound so creepy, but he was mentally relieved that you hadn’t walked in with another guy and instead walked up to the bar and ordered a drink before heading to an empty two-seater table and pulling out a book.
“Look who showed up,” Farleigh teased when he saw Felix’s eyes on you, “Your girlfriends here. I swear you need to go and speak to her, or I will. It’s getting sad mate,” he scoffed but as much as Felix hated to admit it, he was right.
“Okay,” Felix said, puffing up his chest for confidence, “I’m doing it,”
Neither Farleigh nor Oliver had seen Felix look so nervous so both shot each other a confused glance as Felix mentally prepared himself, “Just go for its man,” Oliver told him, “Worst she could say is no,”
“Which she won’t cause no girl in the history of ever has,” Farleigh scoffed, “it’s annoying really,”
Felix ignored both of them and decided enough was enough as he found himself walking to your table. As he walked to your table, he saw the book in your hands more clearly. “I haven’t read that one, but I hear its good,” Felix said, snapping you out of your daze.
“Um yeah it’s good,” you said, half closing your book with your finger in between to keep its place.
“I’m Felix,” he said, stretching out his hand for you to shake and instantly regretting it when he remembered he wasn’t at his mother’s fancy dinners.
You however graciously laughed and shook his hand putting him out his misery, “Nice to meet you Felix,” you said and finally after ages of wondering he found out your name.
“Do you want another?” he asked, nodding to your near empty drink.
You however looked to his table which were all very obviously staring at you both, “I think your friends may miss you,”
“They can survive without me for say just one drink. I don’t want to keep you from it for too long,” he said, motioning down at your book.
Another soft laugh left your lips pulling him in deeper, “Okay. one drink,”
When Felix got up to get the drinks, he saw some cheap looking cardboard coasters and grabbed one. “Can I borrow a pen mate?” he asked the bartender who gave him it before finishing up the drinks. Felix quickly wrote his number and name on the back of the cardboard before picking up the drinks.
“Here and,” he said, sitting your drink down and taking your book out your hands and slipping the coaster in the pages, “here. So, you don’t lose your spot,”
“I agreed to a drink,” you said as Felix sat down, “who said I wanted company?” you said but the teasing smile on your lips made him laugh and the conversation quickly flowed as you both nursed your drinks for an hour.
Eventually you glanced at the time then frowned, “I should probably go I have an early lecture tomorrow,”
“Skip it,” Felix said, leaning on the table, “Stay a little longer,”
“I wish I could,” you said as you slipped the book into your bag without even checking the bookmark he’d left. “I’d say id see you tomorrow but,” you said as you stood up, “apparently you’re skipping that lecture,” you said making him quirk an eyebrow at you, “You’re in my class,”
“I know,” he said with a grin, “I just didn’t know you knew,”
“How could I not know? you look like a statue the uni commissioned,” you joked, and Felix found his cheeks heating up and his face flushing and for once not because of the alcohol, “See you around Felix,”
“See you,” he said, raising his hand to wave goodbye and internally being grateful when you turned around so he could watch you leave.
-
Honestly Felix wasn’t entirely sure if that whole conversation happened or if you were simply a mirage. However, when his phone buzzed that night, he knew you were definitely real, and he was thankful for it.
Unknown number – you’re a sneaky man
Felix felt his cheeks hurt from smiling as he typed back.
Felix – I just didn’t want you to lose your place
What Felix didn’t see however was the way you were laying in bed also smiling like a Cheshire cat at his messages.
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#saltburn#saltburn x reader#saltburn fluff#saltburn imagine#felix catton#felix catton x reader#felix catton imagine#felix catton x you#felix catton x y/n#felix catton fluff
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Hungry man
° Pairing: Enji Todoroki x fem!reader
word count: 935 words
summary: During the first heat spent together, Enji finally gets a taste of your slick. Also, reader has a quirk that gives her bunny attributes (ears and tail + behaviour)
warnings: nsfw (duh), lots of pet names, fingering (fem receiving from herself and m), praises and thigh riding! (if i missed anything, pls tell me!)
author's notes: I need to get this out there before it consumes my whole being, folks. This is basically the origin of pussywhipped!enji lmao. The idea wouldn't leave my mind ever since I revisited this fic by @nyxronomicon (great great great writer by the way, i devour all of their fics so check it out <3). Actually, that fic could be the continuity of this one if you don't think too hard. Anywayz, I'm rambling I know most of you just want the unhinged thoughts sooo hope you enjoy !!! <3 Again, any mispells or mistakes left are my fault ;-; (tried to proofread it but blergh boring)
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅─
The first time Enji had gotten a taste of your sweet ambrosia, it had been an accident. It happened during your first heat spent together. You were being such a sweet bunny now that he thinks about it, playing with yourself so he could rest after the rigorous day spent together for the first time.
However, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers were no match to his thicker ones, you were twisting and flicking your wrist in vain, trying to find the right rhythm. Growing frustrated, whines turned higher pitched, trying all sorts of positions to ease the tight knot in your tummy.
With all the noises leaving your mouth, it was inevitable for the flame hero to slowly arouse from slumber. Eyelids still heavy with sleep, he rubbed his eyes while sitting up against the headboard to pull you onto his lap, but Enji didn’t account for his pretty bunny to be so pent up that she just straddled his thigh and started riding it.
Now, Enji was a strong man and his stamina had to be good to be Japan’s number one hero, but he was only a simple man at the end of it. So, when this simple man saw his good bunny desperate to rub her clit on his strong thigh, he couldn’t do anything but watch. Well watch and flex the muscle under her.
“Fuck, baby, look at you being such a good bunny.” His dick was probably crying from all the action it had gotten, but fuck, it was still trying its best when the flame hero heard his bunny’s whines. “My pretty baby was trying to let me rest, huh love? Don’t worry about that next time. It’s all yours, my legs, -” He flexed his thigh once more for good measure. A whimper escaping your mouth at his words and at the added pressure, making the friction on your bundle of nerves so much better. “my fingers an-” He quickly shut his mouth when you grabbed his right hand and directed it near your lower puffy lips while continuing to ride him.
“Enji, fuck Jiji, please please can I have your fingers. Please, they’re so much bigger and fuck- I- I just want them in me, baby.”
Did Enji die and wake up in paradise? Here you were, your slick covering his upper leg, your mouth in a pretty pout, your pupils taking over your irises, lust painted all over your face, and you were begging for him to finger you. You were so good, waiting for his approval, for his ‘yes’ even if he could see tremors taking hold of your body from the frustration dancing in your bones.
In awe of his luck, the number one hero just nodded in response to your pleas. His fingers pressed on your puffy lips when you stopped directing him. Of course, you were just waiting for him to finally easy the knot in your stomach, but your Jiji seemed to be in a lust haze thinking you were waiting for his fingers to be less dry. It didn’t matter that your slick was plenty enough already. Enji couldn’t feel, see nor think clearly.
So, as Japan’s best hero, he executed the best course of action, sucking his fingers. You, on the other hand, were on the verge of tears, when you felt his fingers leave your wet cunt. Your frustration didn’t get the chance to be voiced out when you heard Enji’s groan.
He couldn’t believe it. As his fingertips grazed his tastebuds, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t had a taste beforehand. Your slick was coating his fingers, coating his tongue, mixing in with his saliva, dripping down his throat. He audibly groaned at the taste of yourself. He had to get more, he needed to have more. He licked every last drop of your juices before parting ways with his slick covered fingers.
“Fuck, think you can give me more of that, bunny?” You just nodded your head at him, excited to have his fingers back to yourself now. “Yes, yes, yes, just- please please just make the pain go away, Jiji.” Your lover cooed at you as two of his thick fingers thrust in one stroke in your pussy, making you cry out from the relief. His bunny was chanting Thank you’s, love and lust dancing around every letter, syllable escaping your throat.
He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on your ambrosia once more, but first he had to make you feel better. Had to see just how well you took him whether it be his cock, his fingers and fuck his tongue soon.
It didn’t take much from the hero to make you cum, you were already on the edge of an orgasm, on the cusp of it from all your attempts earlier, you riding his thigh, and now his fingers. Finally, you felt the knot in your stomach untangling itself, coming loose. Incoherent words and noises graced Enji’s ears as he worked you through your orgasm. His eyes glancing from your face to the arousal leaking out of your lips to his fingers.
The both of you knew that it wouldn’t take long before the pain would come back in your stomach, but before you could voice out anything, the number one spoke up. His eyes sparkling at the idea of drinking directly from you.
“Fuck, bunny, think you can give me another one?”
Suffice to say that that night, Enji Todoroki learnt a new skill, because who would you be to pass up that kind of service from your beloved? <3
#enji todoroki#enji todoroki fanfiction#enji todoroki smut#enji todoroki x reader#endeavor x reader#endeavour x reader#cinnamon original#also this is the same bunny!reader as before guys#it's midnight and you will not believe how hard it was this one to come alive#but it's here now so yippi e#okay im rambling good NIGHT
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Conversations with Dead People
Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Ghosts” | wc: 1,159 | rated: T | cw: past major character death, brief passive suicidal ideation | tags: grief, not a fix-it, Eddie is Dead | title from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode that inspired this fic (season 7, episode 7)
This takes place in an AU where Steve and Eddie have been together since shortly after the events of season 3. The events of season 4 happen as they do in canon.
———
He’s not really a ghost, Eleven had explained. It’s more like residual psychic energy that Eddie left behind when he died. An echo, lingering, a telepathic reverberation of his soul or brain waves or whatever made him Eddie. Him, but not. It’s a distinction that Steve can’t seem to make, not when he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of his living room in front of El, waiting for her to make contact.
“Eddie?” Steve asks tentatively. “Are you there?”
El is quiet behind her blindfold for a moment. “He says, ‘Hey, Stevie.’”
He doesn’t know what he was expecting but shock forces a laugh out of him, too loud and a little wet. “Hey, Eds.” He hasn’t said those words in months but it still feels natural, like a reflex. “I miss you.”
“He misses you too. He sounds sad but he’s smiling,” El reports matter of factly.
“You can see him?” Somehow this might be the thing that breaks Steve, the longing and the fear of seeing him again twisting in his gut. “Is he– does he look–”
“He looks normal. Not hurt. But he says you look like shit.”
Eddie can see him, Eddie is okay, Eddie is trying to joke around to make him feel better, Eddie is so close but out of reach and… Steve’s face crumples.
He can’t do this. Why is he doing this? Hope and despair are warring in a sticky lump in his throat, choking him until he can’t speak. He’s wasting his chance to talk to Eddie again. He doesn’t want to talk to him, he wants to feel him, cold hands and strong arms and sharp teeth and soft lips. He wants him back. He wants to be with him.
“‘Don’t cry, baby.’” The words are soft and clunky coming from El’s mouth but Steve knows exactly how Eddie must sound on the other side.
The sob he was suppressing rips its way out of him. “I miss you,” he says again, stupidly, but he can’t think of anything else. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes like they can stem the flood of tears now that they have begun. “I miss you so much.”
The static on the radio is the only response for long seconds before El says, “He’s crying now. He says he’s sorry. Not sorry he did it but sorry it turned out like this.”
Steve shakes his head. Any real anger he felt toward Eddie had been short lived, but the reminder stings. “You had to be a hero, huh?”
“‘It was worth it to keep you safe.’”
He tries not to think too hard about how much he wishes he could’ve switched places with Eddie. Eddie wouldn’t have let him, of course, stubborn as he is. Was. Is? Steve clears his throat before asking, “Are you… okay?”
It’s a stupid question. How can Eddie be okay? What could Steve do about it anyway? Thankfully Eddie seems to understand what he was trying to ask.
“‘I’m still dead, sweetheart,’” Eddie-El says, almost apologetically. “‘But I’m okay. I’m not in pain, I’m safe. It’s not like being in the Upside Down. It’s peaceful.’”
“Okay. That’s good,” Steve says, almost to himself.
El tilts her head like she’s listening. “He says he watches out for you.”
God, what must Eddie have seen over the past three months? How many nights had Steve sobbed himself to sleep, clutching Eddie’s pillow and trying to memorize its fading scent? How often had Steve put on a brave face to comfort Dustin and reassure him that Eddie’s death wasn’t his fault? How many times had Steve gone to visit Wayne, both of them sitting at the kitchen table while they cried into their cups of coffee and silently mourned the way that the trailer seemed so damn empty without Eddie there to fill it?
“‘Are you okay?’” El asks on Eddie’s behalf.
“We’re just trying to keep it together. It’s…” Steve wipes his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. It was Eddie’s hoodie, actually, but Steve kept stealing it. It’s soft and it smells good! You’re never getting it back! he had laughed. Now it smells more like Steve than Eddie and he couldn’t give it back even if he wanted to. “It’s really fucking hard without you.”
“‘You’re always looking out for everyone else. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?’” The inflection of it sounds like goodbye, like all those mornings of Eddie gearing up to head back to the trailer before Wayne noticed, like Steve begging for just one more kiss before Eddie left.
But there’s something final in it this time that makes panic surge in Steve’s chest.
“Nonono, don’t go, you can’t– you just got here, you can’t just leave,” he babbles, wishing Eddie had a physical presence he could hold on to. The logical part of Steve’s mind knew that this was only temporary, that any echo will eventually fade, but he hadn’t realized it would be so soon.
“‘I wish I could stay.’” El sounds so sad when she speaks for him.
Steve presses his hands to his mouth, tries to hold in the terrible sound of his grief until Eddie isn’t there to hear it anymore. He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his voice level despite the tears streaming down his face. “Will I see you again?”
“‘Hopefully not for a long, long time.’”
He thinks of the past three months, thinks of going through that three more times to make a year, then all of that over and over for as many years as he has left… It sounds like pure torture.
“‘Promise me,’” Eddie-El insists.
“I promise.” Steve’s voice breaks, but he tries to crack a smile when he remembers Eddie can see him. “Stay out of trouble?”
Even before El says, “He laughed at that,” Steve is picturing Eddie’s head tossed back with the force of his guffaw, his dark eyes glimmering with amusement. It settles something in him.
“I love you,” Steve says, snotty and shaky but as solemn as a wedding vow.
The radio stutters then, sounding like it’s flipping through frequencies on its own. When the jumble of static and indistinct speech stops, Steve hears Eddie’s voice, loud and clear, for the first time since March.
“I love you, Steve Harrington,” he announces. Soft and warm like spending a lazy morning in bed. Bright and smiley like adoring someone in a way that can’t be hidden. Exhilarated and awed like collapsing together in a sweaty, spent heap. Bittersweet like a kiss goodnight, like a little white lie, like a promise that has to be broken.
Steve feels that voice surrounding him, crashing over and through him. He shuts his eyes and hugs himself, tries to hold himself together, until the radio shuts itself off.
Then, in the echoing silence of his living room, Steve lets himself fall to pieces.
#steddieangstyaugust#steddie#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steve/eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#ghosts#mine#please suspend your disbelief for the psychic mumbo jumbo#i cried at work while writing this
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Us versus Them - e.m.
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
‖ summary: You made the mistake of telling your boyfriend Eddie you were having trouble using one of your toys because it was too strong. He's determined to help.
‖ notes: smut, it's porn without plot, graphic sexual content. 'sir' kink, rope bondage, overstimulation, sex toy use, spitting, slapping (face and body), choking, degradation (slut, whore, etc.), praise, unprotected p in v, implied creampie, implied squirting, mean!Dom!Eddie (with aftercare). it's messy y'all, let me know if i missed anything.
‖ word count: 2.6k
‖ this was written for @ghost-proofbaby because i said i would use all her kinks against her and this is my attempt. so here you go, babe. thanks to @fracturedarkness, @blue-mossbird, and @abibliophobiaa for proofreading and helping me write the ending. enjoy!
“If you don’t stop pulling on the rope it’s gonna break your skin, baby. Maybe I should get you some nice padded cuffs so you can struggle all you want without hurting yourself. But we can’t do that right now so,” the only warning you receive is the meat of Eddie’s palm touching your inner thigh, lining up the shot, punctuating the next 3 words with harsh slaps, “stop fucking squirming.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry! It’s just so, so much,” your voice breaks into a croak at the end, catching on the end of the sentence as your back arches away from the toy that Eddie holds relentlessly to your clit. He tied you up what felt like hours ago and has barely given you a chance to fucking breathe since he’d gotten the Rose Toy in his hand.
He pushes up onto all fours, moving from his prime viewing angle between your quivering legs to hover over your tear stained and flushed pink face. “Poor baby,” he coos in a mocking tone, his free hand running knuckles down your sweating cheek. “Too sensitive for her new toy. I told you I was gonna help you, didn’t I? Told you I was gonna tie you up and get you used to it, didn’t I?” The relentless buzz sends your eyelids fluttering again, a whimper crawling its way out of your throat as you try to process what he’d asked you.
The next slap hits you across the cheek, lighter than the smacks on your thighs, but still harsh enough that your eyes shoot back open and your cracked lips break apart in a gasp. Eddie’s thumb and forefinger press into your cheeks on either side, locking your jaw wide as he leans in even closer. Reeling back an inch, he spits hard into your open mouth, hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex. “I asked you a question, dumb whore.”
“You did,” you mumble out through the way he grips your jaw, struggling to swallow the thick saliva that pools in the back of your throat from yourself and him. “You told me, Eddie.”
“There we go, now was that so hard?” He asks, eyebrows raising to let you know he does expect an answer. You shake your head the best you can given his hold and he rewards you with removing his hand and the press of a button, making the vibration swap from a constant swirl to a pulsing vibration that you feel from your scalp to your toes.
“Edd-ie!” You keen, your back bowing as your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensation. He’d learned that if he left it on one setting for a long enough period of time, it would start to lose potency, almost like a numbness, which made swapping the pattern that much more powerful.
“Eddie!” He parrots back to you in a high pitched tone. “Aw baby, you’re drooling all over your chin. Messy girl.”
Eyebrows pinching tight together, a broken moan echoes out into the room as your pussy clenches down hard on nothing. “Please, sir, it hurts.”
“You can’t handle it? It hurts?” His voice pitches up in a taunt, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard, tears spilling out from the corner of your eyes as you nod. “That’s a shame baby. Because I need you to squirt all over your pretty blue bed sheets before we’re done.” The idea of needing to hold back in order to achieve that has you whimpering in the back of your throat – your last 3 orgasms had torn out of you like wild animals.
“I can’t – I can’t do it, Eddie. I can’t,” you babble, the words stuck on your tongue like a skipping record as your hazy and sluggish brain tries to make sense of anything.
A ringed hand grips your throat, not cutting off air or blood flow, but with enough pressure to pin you down and make you really feel it. There’s an absolute inferno of lust in his eyes, pupils blown out in an oil fire that shows no signs of stopping any time soon.
“You can, and you will.” His command is deep gravel, sending an electric shiver down your spine. “Don't be ungrateful baby, you take what I give you, understand?”
A sob tears from your throat, tears falling freely as your thighs clamp down on Eddie’s hand and the toy it holds. But you don’t answer fast enough, Eddie’s other hand tightening on either side of your neck to stamp the blood flow to your brain. “You really have lost all your manners, haven’t you, sweetheart? Not a single brain cell in that whole noggin’.” He lets go quickly after, huffing a little laugh at how you suck in air, and then flicks your temple with his middle finger. “Just a stupid slut that can’t think of anything other than how much you want to be filled up.”
The idea of some kind of stimulation other than the Rose has you begging before you can even second guess it. “Please, please sir, want to be filled up so bad. Want your fingers or your cock or your tongue, please, just anything.”
“Anything, huh?” He asks, manic gilt in his eye as his plump lips spread in a sharp grin. “Anything at all?”
“No, no no no no, please, want you Eddie! Want you inside me, please!” You know he would comply maliciously to your request unless you scrambled your thoughts together enough to make a more specific one. Attention wavering from your own body to him as you try to ignore the pressure building in your abdomen for the who knows how many-th time.
“Sounds so pretty, baby,” his sharp grin goes soft, just a bit of teeth behind bitten red lips. “Beg for it again. Better this time.”
The vibrator switches patterns on cue.
“Please!” Comes out as a screech, a burn crawling down your vocal chords that you know you’ll be feeling tomorrow. “Please, sir, want you to fuck me so bad. Want your cock, want your cum insi-ide me. Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-”
A whispered “fuck,” is the first sign you get that Eddie’s resolve is crumbling. It has you gasping out, fingers twisting in the rope that still binds you to the headboard in anticipation. Whenever he got like this, wanting to bring you to tears and desperation more than anything else, it was hard to get him to change his mind. But once the first pillar cracked, betraying his carefully curated domineering persona, it was a short matter of time until all that remained was splinters.
His free hand flies to his belt, fumbling fingers trying to pull it loose. “Okay, baby, I hear you. I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want, okay?” You nod harshly, a full body shiver coasting through you as another moan hits the air. Then a sharp pinch on your inner thigh has you yelping. “I said, okay?”
“Okay, yes, yes, whatever you want,” you rush out, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to not halt the progress of getting this adventure to finally be over, “I’ll do anything.”
“Good girl,” he hits a little love tap right where he pinched, sending another shock straight to your cunt, before he goes back to yanking his belt free. It takes an awkwardly long time for him to do with one hand but you know better than to tease him for it now. You just wait as patiently as you can while he undoes his fly and shimmies his pants and boxers down just low enough for his fat cock to hit the air. Just the sight of it, skin tinted with an angry red and pearly white pre-cum pooled in the foreskin that covers the tip, has your toes curling and your thighs tensing. All you can do is watch as he wraps his long-fingered hand around the top of it, easing the skin back so he can spread the substance down his shaft, a shaky exhale leaving him as he pumps his fist a few times before tilting his hips down toward you.
Realizing he’s going to fuck you fully dressed while you lie naked on your bed has your breath catching again before you even feel the hot mushroom head of him press into you below where the Rose still buzzes relentlessly. “Fuck! Baby, you’re so wet – shit, so fucking t-tight.” He stutters out, clearly affected as he starts to feed inch after inch of his hard cock into your fluttering cunt with a hand gripping the base to stop him from finishing before he can even get all the way inside.
The feeling of him splitting you open, how your own slick pushes its way out of you in rivulets as he bullies his way inside almost threatens to undo you immediately. Your gasp comes out as a croak, your eyebrows drawing tight together in near agony as he bottoms out.
“Sh-shit. Baby, I’m not gonna last. I can-” he cuts off with a groan as you clench down on his length when the vibrations come back to the forefront of your attention. “Can feel the vibe. Feel how close you are.”
“Eddie, please,” you whimper, fingernails digging into your palms as you lose the only control of yourself that you had left when he starts to pull back. He rears back only a scarce inch or two before his hips rush back forward, lips parting soundlessly as his face contorts in feeling. You prepare for the onslaught but curse loudly when he pulls all the way out, leaving you feeling even more empty and bereft than before. Before you can openly question it, he grips your leg and folds it back, knee towards the bedside table, and wedges himself beneath your hips and the bed. He reaches over and hitches your other leg up similarly, using the elbow of the arm that is still wedged between your legs to keep it in place.
Hips tipped up, he forces himself back inside your awaiting hole without warning. Positioned like this, he rubs directly up against the spot on the front wall of your cunt that has you seeing stars and trying not to scream. “There she is,” he sighs out, a satisfied smile gracing his face when he sees your eyes roll back. His hand goes back to gripping the underside of your thigh, pressing the fold deeper as he grinds down into you. “Now we’re giving her what she wants, isn’t that right?”
It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your pussy and that knowledge sends you spinning, barely keeping afloat as he begins to fuck into you in earnest. “Fuck, baby, never gets old,” the rough material of his jeans rubs against your ass, the metallic clatter of his belt slapping the sides of your thighs each time he bottoms out. “Like this pussy was made for me.”
“Yours,” you manage to squeak out, trying to focus on the way his cock splits you apart instead of the numbing pain of the Rose that still swirls against your overstimulated clit. “Yours, yours, yours.”
“That’s right,” a throaty laugh rumbles through him as he looks down to where the two of you are connected, “my pretty pussy that’s gonna gush all over me, just like I asked.” The vibrator swaps patterns again, the new one way past too much for you, and you can’t stop the scream that forces itself out of your dropped jaw. Eddie groans above you, feeling both the new vibration and how strongly your muscles clench around him as it reacts to the stimulation. “Can feel you, my little slut.” His fingers dig into the meat on the underside of your quivering thighs as he settles into a bruising pace. “You gonna give me what I want? Gonna soak my cock, make a mess of your pretty sheets?”
“Eddie!” Is the only response you have to offer as your eyes pinch closed, trying to focus on letting the pressure within you build beneath the pain of the overstimulation.
“Right here, baby,” he confirms, cold rings rubbing along your thigh to soothe you, “I’ve got you. Just gotta give it to me, sweetheart. Give me what I want. Make a mess.”
The wet squelch of your pussy is obscene as you squeak out an exhale each time he drives home, pressure tipping higher and higher until your fingers, toes, and lips go numb. “E- euh,” you try to get out his name, let him know you’re going to come, that you’re going to give him what he wants, but all you can do is moan out. Loud and long, voice pitching up as his satisfied grin returns again. It only takes a few more rolls of his hips against yours, the curls at the base of his cock flattened wet with your own slick, before you lose yourself entirely.
Vision whiting out, back bowing, muscles in your body clenching tight as all sensation centers around your bullied cunt and then explodes outwards in a rush of endorphins you simply cannot feel. If there was ever a moment that you would describe as ‘leaving the Earth’ it would be this one – and in the overwhelm of that rush, you abandon the ground, floating up amongst the stars until all goes dark.
Did so good for me, sweetheart.
So pretty, so perfect.
Come back to me, baby. Nice and easy.
When your eyes blink back open again, all you can see is the side of Eddie’s head, his hair tucked behind his ear. He’s looking down your body, and as you follow his gaze, the feeling returns to between your legs, where he is carefully wiping you clean with a warm, wet cloth. You're unable to stop the whimper from coming out as you instinctively twitch away from the gentle touch. His big, brown eyes shoot to yours at the movement, pulling the soft cloth away from your sensitive skin. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. I’m almost done. Doing so good.”
Nullified by his praise, you grit your teeth and bare it as he does 2 more soft swipes across your swollen folds and then tosses the rag back toward your bathroom with a wet slap. “Okay, now some water.” A hand tucked behind your shoulder to lift just your head off the mattress, a cold glass of water presses to your dry lips. You take a few grateful gulps before pushing back against his hand to let him know you're done. Not wanting to push you to drink more, he sets the glass down on the bedside table and reaches for your hand, gripping the tender skin of your wrist between his own fingers and pressing a kiss to the marks the rope left behind. “What else do you need, anything?”
Swallowing hard to attempt to find your words for the first time, you shake your head. “Just you, Eddie. Just you.”
- - -
Sneaking back into your shared apartment a few weeks later, you’re careful not to let the plastic bag in your grip make too much noise as you run as quietly as you can to the bedroom.
Your new purchase is a bit different than the toys you and Eddie have played with so far, but your excitement is almost beyond measure.
After all, payback is a bitch. And it’s you versus him.
.
.
.
.
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let me know if you enjoyed, thanks for reading :)
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#dom!eddie munson#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#mean!eddie munson#myos ideas#i tried my best!!! and no one can fault me for that.#myo4munson
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PLSS PLSS PLSS I NEED THIS
So Gojo has been neglecting his girlfriend y/n because of triggering the mental health of gojo's ex and because gojo still loves his ex he starts to neglect or abandon y/n but then again y/n only sees gojo as the source of her light, y/n sees gojo as a reason why y/n is still alive, and when Gojo starts to get mad towards y/n, y/n slowly falls apart and led her to death
PLS PLS I'M ON MY KNEES!!
The other women.
︵⠀satoru gojo x fem!reader ⠀◌Ⳋ𝅄
⌗ !! Heavy angst | Cursed words | heart break |
Listen to i bet on losing dogs by mitski and the other woman by lana del rey while reading:b
A/N : thanks for the request ^.^
Oh how you want him to forget about her. You know why satoru is avoiding you all the time. You caught him texting his ex, begging her to meet him. But his contact was blocked in her ohone,All you could do was keep it to yourself. What else can you do anyway, he's all you have left and trying your best to make him forget about his ex. As always you were watching tv alone,the promise of a movie night long gone. His not coming back hoke tonight again. You can't even focus on the show on tv,all you could think was about satoru. How he isn't sleeping properly,the bags underneath his eyes. You want to be his safe space that you always wanted to be. From the start of your relationship,satoru would let you touch him,even let you have the intimacy time with him but as time passes satoru had been pushing you away more and more. Its only two year of your relationship with him and why are your feelings are so deep? Because even before dating him you had loved hik for years,even when his ex and him were together. You had admired him from afar,not even daring to step into his love life. But when satoru accepted your love you thought you don't have to admire him from afar anymore yet. Here you are now,seeing satoru again cling to his ex,but you were still trying your best to continue this relationship. Trying your best to be enough for him, always treating him like satoru not like the strongest. You were snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of your phone buzzing. Maybe its satoru,as you though just to see shokos contact spaming you with so many texts. You were to tired to reply to anyone's texts and calls for now except satoru. You and shoko weren't that close but still she was a sweetheart to you. You turn the tv off, walking off to the bedroom to sleep knowing that trying to sleep is useless for you. You lay down on your bed,the clock already hitting 12 am.
It's already 3 am and satoru still hasn't come back,why ? You thought as always. You can't sleep, can't sleep without his warmth. One time you tood him this he ended up calling you too much clingy. And you ended up crying. You sit up slightly as you hear the jigglings of the keys, finally he had came back. You step out of your bed to see him. Satoru doesn't even tries to glance at you knowing you were standing behind him
"why didn't you come home early like you said" slips you lips,even though you didn't wanted to sound rude. Satoru just lets out an annoyed sigh as always.
"was busy with work,we can have a movie night later.." satoru said before leaving for bathroom to fresh himself up. You again walk off the the bedroom, laying down on it. Satoru comes to bed alot later than you,as satoru lays down you fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. His back facing you, missing how satoru used to hold you against his chest. You wait a few minutes, waiting for him to relax fully so you could wrap your arms around him. Finally when the moment comes,you gently wrap your around him torso just to-
"y/n." You freeze up, fearing he would push you away again.
"w-what is it" you mumble
"i am not in the mood"
"but i was just want to cuddle satoru.." you traill off, slowly pulling yourself away.
"just stop being clingy for a moment..please." satoru grumbles, before moving further away from you. Satoru noticed how hard your trying to continue your relationship with him. How your lips stays on his cheeks more longer than before. Everyday making dinner for him even though he doesn't comes home. Trying to takr extra care of him but all he does is pushing you away. Satoru feels the guilty covering him up again but- satoru cant help but love and miss his ex so much more than you...oh.
You don't say anything, just lay down. Trying your best to keep your teaes to yourself that are already peaking in the corner of your eyes. Satoru still hasn't moved on yet got in a relationship with you,its your fault for still continuing this barely alive relationship. But you cant help but be selfish. trying your best to make him forget about his ex by giving him all the love you have for him. You felt so so much stupid but you loved him so much more than you loved yourself. He was your everything. You silently cry yourself to sleep again, waking up to a empty bed. You take your phone to check all the texts finally, opening the shokos contact. Oh,you feel like your heart stops beating. Why is there a photo of satoru with a familiar girl? What is that. Not even reading her texts you hit the call button to talk with shoko. Did satoru really met his ex? No that's not true,it shouldn't be true.
"y/n" shoko say behind your phone, already knowing you will say.
"w-whos that girl with satoru w-why does s-she looks like his e-ex-" you speak with the tremblings on your lips, already trying to stop the tears.
"y/n try to relax a little bit,i know it doesn't feels real but it is. I caught him talking with her. And it's the best for me to tell you. I am sorry what that asshole has did to you. Its the best if you two break up,you don't deserve him y/n. This relationship isn't healthy for you" shoko sighed,she couldn't help tell you all these things and as much details as she could. After all the talking and crying you finally hung up. cheeks stained with tears as your breath was stil Hitching. Maybe your the other woman here. The other woman who didn't get the love she wanted. You feel like crying again. You try your best to keep your pieces together as you finally left for work. The night you came home alone as always. No satoru to greet you warmly. You slip down on your bed,not even bothering to remove your clothes. Satoru is the only hope for you but tonight you will ask him. If he loves you more or her. Everything inside you feels hollow. The sheets had his scent but it only increased the pain in your heart.
-
"satoru.." you finally spoke after he got in the bed,satoru looked at your. His blue irises missing the loving gaze. you take a deep breath.
"we have to talk" you said, avoiding eye contact with him
"what do you wanna talk about now, don't tell me why did i came home late tonight even though you know the reason" satoru mutters, your miserable. Satoru is the reason yet seeing the tired expressions and dark circles,his sadness underneath it makes your heart clench. You know no Matt what you'll never be able to hate this man. The man that never loved you like you wanted to.
"why do you always push me away? Is it her?" You blurt out. "Do you still love her?"
Satoru freezes,why are you asking him this? Yiu should know it. Know it and left him already,you don't deserve a man like him. You deserve better. His mouth opens to say something but it closes again.
"answer me satoru. Please.." you look at him with the pleading eyes of yours,you want to know it. You don't know when this talk turned into a argument,him yelling at you while you yell at him,tears streaming down your face when finally admits the truth you never wanted to exist.
"yes i do love her. I love her more than you" satoru grumbles, feeling guilt and anger at the same time, how the hurt was painted on your face, how the fat tears were running down your face. he walks away from the room, planning on sleeping on the couch. All you could do was cry more,you knew he loved her more than you. Or Maybe he had never tried to love you. You were something he used to forget about his ex. So why did it hurted this much hearing it from his mouth. Your sobs were loud,satoru could hear it. All he could do was ignore. And you crying yourself to to your most painful sleep. You and satoru broke things off but your love for him never disappeared. You felt like a dead body who's heart was still beating. At work you'd see him, looking so happy with his students. But you were never able to make him this much happy, you thought. Today you had a mission to complete. A special grade, knowing that you were far from it. Oh how your heart had ached so badly when you saw him in a cafe with her. You don't know why did you agreed to this but you did. You couldn't get what was going on in your life. Everything felt meaningless without him,he was your sun and you were the moon. The moon who nedded the sun but the sun was focused on the earth. Actually its her. And no one. So when the curse's arm pierced through your chest you didn't fought back,tiu didn't had the energy to continue anything anymore. Being dead would be more peaceful than living a life so painful like this. Maybe in another life,you would be satoru's earth.
Satoru looks at your dead body laying in shoko's morgue,he told himself he doesn't loves you but seeing you here laying lifeless, knowing that you were there for him no matter what. You loved him no matter what. His heart ached. He still remembers how you you cried when satoru told you he still loves his her,her who's getting married to someone next year. His hand gently holds yours, caressing you cold knuckles. The white clothe around you had almost soaked in your blood.
"maybe in another life I'll be able to love you,y/n."
Okayyy i tried my best:((( thanks again for the request nonnie!! And English isn't my first language sorry if i did any mistakes:)
#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#trending#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jjk x you#satoru gojo x you#gojou satoru x you#gojo x reader#jjk gojo x reader#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo angst#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo fluff#satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo smut#gojo smau#jjk satoru#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#angst#heavy angst#gojo headcanons
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ㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ❞ — agatha harkness
synopsis | your manager had a reputation of being mean, but she liked you so much, how could any of what they say be true?
warnings | dark content, gn! reader, naive rockstar! reader, manager! agatha, implied masturbation, name-calling, dub-con, oral (agatha receiving), power imbalance (?),
a/n | i have no excuse to this mess, to be honest with you people, I reworked an older fic into this slutty, smutty mess with mean mean agatha so I can have fun, hopefully, you guys will too ! <3
you thought you were pulling the short straw when you got agatha harkness assigned as your manager, the harpy of the recording studio that picked you up. some might still say you did given that she worked against management and the book, but you were hardly protesting against the heart eyes she shot your way, the flirty-sounding texts, and the cute nicknames she called you rather than your name. everybody would fold just a little when an older attractive woman would pamper them.
and agatha harkness monopolizes you and bursts into your house for the littlest things knowing you gonna wear those pair of baggy jeans with the white tank top, or just sweats with a bra or no bra depending on the day- the laziest of outfits that in her opinion, just made you all the more cuter. anything ranging from helping her with shopping, asking you to pick some new outfits for yourself, bringing you food despite knowing you just ate, and let's not forget how she barges in asking if you would like to redo your studio but then she always changes her mind talking about 'authenticity'. she tells you to never mind whatever the other management members say or asks you to do, you're her personal project so you should only comply with her words, and you do, without question. even when she asks you into her secluded office and invites you over, behind her desk.
"c'mon, kneel and kiss me here sweetheart." one of her hands caught your wrist to pull you closer, her legs opening, and her other hand making its way down to part her drenched lips. you swallowed hard, thighs squeezing together when you saw that she wasn't wearing any panties under the tight skirt clinging to her body, the ones she was just parading around the building in. her finger rubbed her clit, playing with the sensitive nub before she slid one slender finger inside.
what were you doing? watching miss harkness pleasure herself like a pervert with no manners? you get caught and you will lose your job!
"miss harkness this- this isn't right..." you stutter, voice small, embarrassment flushing your skin as you look down on the floor. her hand climbs higher as she pulls you closer, rubbing along your side before it glides over your breast. the thin fabric of your white tank top so thin that from the slightest touch, she could feel your perked-up nipple, no matter the neglectable pads of your bra.
"where are your manners? didn't you tell me you'd do anything I ask?" miss harkness grins as you nod, kneeling and leaning forwards to place your mouth against her sopping cunt. your hands come to sit on her thighs to push them further apart, weak hands clumsily pushing her skirt up to make more room for your face, tongue flattening against her clit and a shaky breath flees from her lips. you lapped up all of her savory juices, prodding your tongue at her sensitive hole all the while gazing up at her through your lashes. she hummed lowly, head falling back as her eyebrows knotted.
and nothing says you're doing a good job when she moans your name out loud, manicured nails digging into the back of your neck, scratching your skin. "there you go, earning yourself a new title- fuck!"
and she goes on and on, trying nicknames- good girl, hunny, slut, brat, doll, darlin', angel, pretty- anything and everything she can think of, testing which one gets you to go faster, riles you up, gets you hot enough to not want to leave from between her thighs.
© tearsucry. — 18+, minors do not interact. do not translate, repost, or copy any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
#created by sara#agatha all along x female reader#agatha all along x reader#agatha harkness x reader angst#agatha harkness x reader#agatha all along#agatha harkness x reader smut#agatha all along x reader smut#agatha harkness x female reader smut
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𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲
(Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x F!Reader) [Lady Dimitrescu comforts Headmaiden!Reader during a stressful breakdown] ~Anxiety attacks/Hurt/Sad themes/Dissociating/If you are sensitive to or gain anxiety/mental breakdowns when connecting with online bad scenarios, please leave, I know they can be upsetting as hell and annoying to deal with. Please don't be afraid to cry if you need to, just promise you won't do it alone <3, love you all :3 ~ ~Little use of Y/N, grammar may be poor, misspellings probably frequant, Reader is over 30 (roughly 36-38), Reader overworks when stressed~ ~SFW~ ~ ~
Keeping more then 50 maids in line was hard. Not impossible, especially when you're as stern and strong as yourself. ... At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You love working for The Countess of Castle Dimitrescu after serving for years and years, but occasionally, some days just become a little bit too much. Today just happened to be one of those days.
Currently, you were cleaning windows in The Lady's private chambers, thoughts dancing about in your mind. This week had been full to the brim with bloody messes, incompetent maids and idiot moroaică managing to bust down the diningroom door, however the hell they manage to do it without being sliced to ribbons by The Mistress was anyones guess.
You had somehow managed to slip out of focus for a moment as the screams of what sounded like a male from the dungeon rung through the castle. Considering how long you had worked in Castle Dimitrescu for, the screams of maids and occasional hunters always managed to make you shudder. You didn't think you'd ever get used to it.
Unfortunately, thinking about what the daughters of The Lady were doing to whatever daft minded gentlemen attempting a break in at this time of year was being put through, did nothing for the bubbling anxiety creeping its way up your chest. You knew several of the people who had endured the wrath of Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters, however, you never really had too much of a relationship with any of them. You preferred to keep to yourself whenever you weren't handing out tasks and intructing newer maids of what to do. Still, the screams that echo through the kitchen everyday were less then appealing.
The more your mind wandered the more distracted you became. You went from wiping down windows to staring over the terrace. The longer you stood there thinking about your week, the more frustrated and upset you became. A million questions running wild in your head, What on earth had Ingrid been thinking? Sneaking into Miss Bela's chambers after forgetting to wash the girl's sheets. Why were the moroaică being so disruptive and- and loud?? The moroaică is one thing, the maids another, but also the thought of this repeating process; waking up, more dead maids, more new maids, more girls to train, repeat. It was stressful, and you were getting tired of not taking the breaks you were being offered every so often. But what were you meant to do? Maids don't train themselves, unless The Lady would control her daughters before they kill every last maid in one day.
Of course, you had nothing against The Lady or her daughters, you adored the 3 girls as if they were your own children, but seeing as you had been taking care of all of them for over 15 years, that was probably expected. You read to Daniela often, helped Cassandra keep things organised in the armory, and spoke with Bela whenever she was hovering around the kitchen. You really just loved to spend time with the girls whenever you could. The Lady had taken a liking to you over the years as well. You would normally sit down for tea or wine after a days work to talk with her whenever she was free, and even paused your work whenever you crossed paths in the hallways. However, as of late, you had been distancing yourself, and The Lady definitely noticed.
By now, your hands were trembling, but you snapped out of your thoughts and kept doing your chores anyways, trying to ignore the fact that you were close to spilling frustrated waterfalls. You didn't know what you were specifically upset about so why were you panicking? You can't be the person who helps take care of the entire Castle if you can't place what you're even upset about. Too busy drowning in your thoughts, you hadn't heard the chamber door swinging open, or the clicking of heels that followed.
The groan you let out was muffled as you lifted your apron up to wipe your face of the few tears that had managed to pass the dam currently built behind your eyelids. Your hands covered your face, shielding whatever was outside the window from seeing your annoyance. , , My dear, is something the matter?" The all too familiar voice snapped you out of the current state you were in.
You immediately whipped around, drying your face in the process before mumbling out an apology, not bringing yourself to meet The Countess's gaze.
, , I apololgize M'Lady, I didn't know you'd be done working so early." , , Look at me when you speak, draga." Alcina's voice was stern, but not to the point that it made her sound upset. More, concerned?
Reluctantly, your eyes trailed up her dress until you met Alcina's eyes. Upon noticing your tear streaked cheeks, The Countess's eyebrows furrowed. She took only a step foward before bending down to meet your height, her hand raising to your face as she took your chin in her hold.
, , Now. Tell me what bothers you, darling, your face is red."
Her eyes definitely showed concern, as this had been the first time in a while that she had seen you in such a weak and vulnerable state. At this moment, you would give anything to just spill out all your problems, but you passed that thought off, still wanting to avoid Lady Dimitrescu in any way.
, , It's nothing that should concern you, M'Lady. I don't want to put anything else on your plate." Just as you were about to ask to leave, you were pulled by your wrist towards The Countess.
Your breath hitched in your throat as she led you to the couch next to the window, sitting down before she lifts you up onto her lap. From the angle you were sitting at, you could see yourself in the vanity mirror. Of course, Alcina was right, your face was red.
, , M'Lady—"
, , Draga mea, how long until you stop avoiding me and my daughters?" She too, was looking at your reflection in the vanity mirror.
You opened your mouth to speak, but truthfully, you didn't really know what to say.
, , What's going on in that pretty little head of yours that's made you so distant, hm? Don't think I hadn't noticed it all when I saw you trying to evade Daniela the other day. I hope you don't think that just because your one of my most trusted maids, you have the right to keep things from me. You live in my home, therefore anything that happens with you—" She points to your chest, of which was rising up and down a lot quicker then before. , , -Is my concern whether you think it is or not." The Mistress looked deeply into the reflection of your eyes, as if trying to search for an answer. This woman always had a way with words that confused you just as much as it comforted you. Alcina had been so caring and sweet to you in the past, (thanks to the little amount of mess ups you made compared to the women who had been brought to The Castle along side yourself all those years ago) on your journey here in Castle Dimitrescu, she had managed to break down a lot of your mental shields, the shields that kept prying eyes at bay.
Your foot started to bounce nervously up and down and with a hesitant sigh, you started to rant about all the problems on your mind. How you thought that maybe you weren't working enough, and that you didn't deserve all the time you get to spend with the Dimitrescu's. Tears eventually broke out as you continued to lay all your troubles out in front of you. Alcina just sat and listened to you, rubbing your arm with her thumb and nodding understandably every now and then, not that you could see yourself or her anymore, Alcina had pulled you into her chest when you started to cry. By the time you had stopped rambling, your eyelashes were wet with tears, and your eyes were puffy and red.
, , Sweetheart, if a maid isn't doing their job correctly then you should be telling me, so that I can deal with it." She brings her hand up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. , , As for how much you work, I think the fact that you have been serving this Castle much longer then any other maid could survive here for is proof enough of your worth for me and my daughters. Besides, we don't care what you're worth. Do you enjoy my daughters company?" You nod slowly, leaning into The Countess's hand. , , I enjoy every second of my time with the girls. They're angels, if you wipe off the blood on their faces. I just- I just think that perhaps I dont do enough to earn their—." You're silenced when a leather gloved finger is pressed softly to your lips.
, , You're overthinking. Darling, my girls could very well see you as a second mother, they adore you just as much as I do, and I don't think I see them as happy as they are when you're around them. When you're stuck in a Castle for as long as you can remember, you start to get bored, draga. And don't you dare go forgetting that. You treat my girls as if their human beings, not some psycho witches that hunt and kill for a living. I've seen the way you look at them, you love them, you know you do. And they love you too. Now what makes it so hard to see that?"
A second mother? Well yes you treat them as your own sometimes, but you never wanted to say outloud that you loved them in that way, in case of what The Mistress might think. But now that you're hearing her say it, it all feels like a dream. You would do anything to protect Alcina's daughters. You never had interest in having children, but you always had a maternal instict when you came to know the Dimitrescu daughters.
, , You're stressed, draga mea. I hate seeing you that way." , , I'm- I'm sorry, I just— This week has been so rough, I thought maybe working more would get my mind off of everything—" Alcina grabs your chin, turning you to look at her in the eye.
, , My dear, the last thing you should be doing when you're stressed is working. You should be resting, instead- Not- Cleaning windows, sweeping, cooking- I hate to see you do that to yourself. I've known you too long to treat you as just another maid, just take care of yourself more. Can you please do that for me?"
You begin to cry again, burying your face into her chest once more. You start to mumble out apologies over and over again. Alcina comforts you through your tears, wrapping her arms around your body and drawing shapes on your back as you let out choked sobs and soft whimpers. Eventually, your tears stop flowing and they turn into quiet yawns. Finding amusement in your tired state, she begins to run her fingers through your hair.
, , Very tired now, aren't you..." Her voice was soft and quiet. She began leaning to the right, slowly lowering herself further onto the couch, with you laying on top of her. At this rate, you were too tired to deny her warmth, so you just lay curled up on top of The Mistress, welcoming the sleep that finally stole you away.
, , Someday, draga mea, you'll open your eyes and realize just how much you mean to me."
thAt is the first time i have written smth like this :^
lemme know if you want more, bc i already hate this :D
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#re8 village#re8#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu x reader
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Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)
(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff
Words: 5.8K
TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)
A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3
September 2017
Azzi: just got home :)
It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison.
Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself.
But then Azzi picks up on the second one.
And really it would be rude to hang up.
“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen.
“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”
Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”
“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”
“Yeah I’m hanging up-”
“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”
Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips.
“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs.
“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”
“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”
“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission.
Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”
It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all.
“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach.
“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”
There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness.
“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”
“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough.
“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”
“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out.
Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”
Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry.
“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”
It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance.
“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”
Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too.
“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first.
“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”
Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”
“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.
“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”
“Only hurts from carrying my team.”
“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”
“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”
Azzi huffs, “Paige.”
“Azzi,” Paige hums.
“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige.
“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes.
“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly, scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)
“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”
And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige.
“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence.
There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind.
“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”
Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”
“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”
“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts.
“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”
“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it.
“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”
“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”
“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.
“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”
For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”
“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”
And Azzi does. All night.
Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box.
To her royal highness,
Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do.
~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~
(And you better show up Bueckers)
Yours,
Azzi
February 2033
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”
Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”
“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is.
Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible.
Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand.
And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else.
“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”
“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said.
“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”
Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”
“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”
“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender.
“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body.
“Ice-” she begins.
But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”
“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum.
“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”
“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips.
“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”
“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself.
“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters.
“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.
“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK.
“A matter of time till what?”
“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”
***
The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today. From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her.
“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”
Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments.
“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all.
The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance.
“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”
“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm.
Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”
“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”
“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.
“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple.
“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”
“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this.
“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”
Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference.
***
Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is.
“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter.
“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation.
“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”
Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”
“Oliv-”
“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”
“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”
“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’
“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”
“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”
***
It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige.
She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”
“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles.
“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body.
“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”
Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”
“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly.
“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow.
“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”
“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”
Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”
“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.
“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly.
As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now.
“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”
“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”
Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”
“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go, really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”
Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe.
“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”
“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk.
Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”
“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”
Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”
“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie.
“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look
“But Mama-”
“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too.
“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”
“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”
“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”
“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”
With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out.
“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch.
Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”
“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”
Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”
“I have connections.”
“You talked to Ice.”
“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”
“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”
“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly.
“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses
Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”
“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”
Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”
“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”
Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”
“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”
“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself.
“What is?”
“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”
Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”
There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold.
Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.
“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her.
“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”
“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple.
“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.
“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”
“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people.
“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone.
Paige smiles, “of course you can.”
“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”
“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone.
“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”
Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”
I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever.
“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand.
“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone.
“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”
Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.
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I love your fics! Can i please have a Miguel O'hara x Fem Reader where she bumps into a abusive ex and she gets scared/uncomfortable. So Miguel being the protective and territorial person he is steps in and handles the situation (maybe even fights the guy), and Miguel gets all sappy and soft letting her know he loves her and will protect her always. Fluff plzUwU
‘Protector’
Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader
Warnings; 4k!! mentions of abusive ex, sad flashbacks that involve some violence. Like *Choking and screaming* Little bit of angst, panic attacks mentioned too. But I squeezed in more fluff than y’all can imagine! Please be careful with what you want to read. Enjoy
Summary; after not being in a relationship for over a few months, you start to try again with an adorable scientist, Miguel O’Hara. Overall he seems very sweet and kind at the start of your growing relationship, but you can’t help but worry he might be like you ex. Until one day he proves to be the total opposite.
Author’s note: Hiiii love!!! Thank you for this request!! I’m so happy I got one! So I hope this meets your expectations, let me know :) much love and hugs!!
Diing Diing!
The clanking bells alarmed you that a customer had just walked into the large 3-story library you work at in New York City. A smile went up your face as you waved and greeted a couple of college girls who passed by with smiles and their little coffees.
This library in particular was special to you, it had a great view of the magnificent city, many customers came by and 99% of the time found what they needed, it was a place of a new fresh start after leaving an abusive relationship, and better than all of those things aforementioned, it was the place where you found Miguel O’Hara, your new boyfriend.
Miguel was a scientist, he worked at Alchemax and came by often to the library to retrieve books he needed for his job. He was always a regular customer as your boss had mentioned, but he said he came by more often when you started working there everyday.
Which was true, you saw him very often, maybe 8 times in a span of 5 days, he walked in and out with a new scientific book or one about chemicals, and you’d be the one to check them out.
It wasn’t hard to miss him when he walked in, he had a broad form and looked very different from the rest- oh and he always wore that white coat that made his arms bulge out more than they should, and really shape his V back perfectly.
Every time his curly jet black hair was always combed back with his calloused fingers as he would approach the front desk and ask you how your day was, even if you had seen him earlier that morning.
Flashback-
“Hi! I-uh.. came to get these checked out... how’s your day been- like so far?”
You beamed a smile at his sorta shyness, which wasn’t normal for him. He wasn’t particularly hyper and such, but his speech was always confidently spoken. Nonetheless you took the 1000 paged book about Chemistry and scanned it while responding,
“It’s been a little busier, now that college started for the kiddos, they’ve been in and out of here like crazy. But overall good.”
His warm brown eyes hadn’t met yours as one of his hands were stuffed in his pockets and the other inched for the book in your hand, but he smiled and replied,
“Oh that’s nice, just don’t.. uh overwork yourself corazo- ma’am.”
You giggled while putting the book in its paper bag while suggesting,
“You can call me corazen- Is that how you say it?”
Miguel finally let his eyes look at you and you could see he held a slight uncertainty, but he did correct you kindly,
“It’s corazon.. i-it means ‘heart’.”
‘Awww... that’s so sweet... Damien would have never said that.’
Warmth filled your insides and you could’ve bet a million dollars that your cheeks were beet red, it wasn’t a doubt you found this mountain of a man absolutely adorable like a puppy, and extremely hot. You slid the book in a paper bag towards him carefully and added,
“Well thank you for correcting me-“
You then read his tag and went on,
“Dr.O’Hara... would you like anything else?”
For a second time his eyes locked on yours, and he took a deep breath before rapidly taking out his hand out from his pocket. You gasped lowly and flinched back at the action, your eyes wide. But Miguel caught your action and felt guilty for scaring you, and comforted you immediately with his words,
“Sorry! Umm.. ay coño.. just call me Miguel.. and.. would you like to go out at some time?”
You were now a couple feet away from the desk, but when you saw the little paper he had put out on top, you slowly came back.
A frown made a small line between his eyebrows, you too felt back for scaring away, but you couldn’t help but have that kind of reflex to certain gestures. You couldn’t meet his eyes after what you did, but his gentle voice gave you a slight confirmation that it was ok,
“Corazon?... it’s ok if you can’t-“
“I can! Yes.. yes... I’m sorry-“
“Please don’t be.. it was me that was weird then-“
“You’re not weird I swear... I was the one that acted dramatically-“
“You’re perfect.. I swear that you are.”
Honesty and adoration was read all over him, something you’ve never seen in another man but could detect. With a warm smile you made the move to agree with him, though you were hoping he was right.
“Ok...”
Miguel first smiled then wore a frown with a question,
“Ok.. as in the date or-“
You quickly quipped,
“Is it too much to ask for both?”
With a shake to his head Miguel tapped the table and took his bag,
“For you? Not at all corazon.. at 6 tomorrow.. because you clock out at 5 right?”
In surprise at how he knew when you got off of work had you smiling a bit brighter, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone remembered something so small about you.
“Yes! Ah.. thanks for noticing, and giving me time.”
With a wink and a last wave Miguel sweetly promised,
“You’re worth all my time.”
End of flashback-
You never thought that being 6 months into your new relationship would be leading after that first date with Miguel.
And you have never been happier than ever. He was the absolute most gentle person ever, he never lifted his voice and was calm in every situation. He was the total opposite of what you dragged yourself into with your last relationship... which was toxic and abusive.
Damien was the asshole’s name, and with him, degrading words were always shouted at you, new bruises would appear around your wrists or neck every time he got angry, your lipstick was never smeared from being kissed and loved... instead your mascara was always messed up and painted teary lines down your cheeks.
You’d flinch when a voice was raised higher than normal or you’d panic for a second at someone moving too fast towards you. As in the past Damien would scream at you endlessly and out of no where sprint towards you to lay his hands on you to hurt you. But now as you had run away from him and started a whole new life far away- as so you thought.
You worked hard to be more normal and confident, and read people and understand that some moved the same way but had different actions and intentions behind them.
Like when Miguel would reach suddenly to brush your hair behind your ear, you had to learn that he was caring for you, and not going to choke you. Or when he’d come from behind you to hug you, day by day you grew to accept how he was loving on you and not going to drag you away to hurt you.
So little things like that, you were trying to give a chance to think differently of, so you could heal. And to not say the least, but Miguel had seen the trauma you were in from when you first dated, he had seen and heard how you asked for reassurance on everything you did, and even apologized your heart out when you accidentally laughed a little louder at a funny moment, or when a drop of coffee landed on his shirt, face filled with dread and worry at what he’d say or do to you.
But ever sense that night, Miguel swore on his life that he’d never let you go, and that he’d protect you forever from whoever would want to cause you harm. And he also knew, that if he ever ran into your ex, it’d be the last time he ever did.
—————-
Diiiin Diiing!!
The library was already close to closing time, so when you heard the ding, you called out to let them know,
“Hi! Welcome to-“
In horror you dropped the books you were holding, letting them crash onto the floor and even allowing the hard cover book land on its corner onto your foot. The day you hoped would never come, finally came.
In all his wicked glory, stood your ex, Damien, at your counter. With an erratic heartbeat and shaky hands you moved down to the floor to pick up the books, feeling like the helpless little girl you were when he had you. Fear wasn’t enough to describe what had you losing your breath and movement, as venom came out of his mouth.
“Wow.. even after all this time your still a clumsy bitch huh? Pathetic.”
Words cut sharp like knives at your heart and you could feel how deep into your gut that tossed stone of words went. Instantly it was like if you went to robotic mode with him, like if he had control over you. His black eyes bore into your now glossy eyes as you fixed the books on the counter and replied with a stutter,
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it- it was an accident-“
“An accident like how you dropped your coffee on my shoes or how you step on my brand new shoes at your cousins wedding? You’re an accident. A mistake- like how’d you even get the job?”
Shrugging slowly was all you could muster, words hanging in your throat. But a harsh slam of his hand hitting against the counter had you jump and responding verbally,
“I-I’m not sure.. my boss thinks I’m efficient and qu-quick.”
And in that moment you had a very quick slip up in your mind, making you scold yourself and remember Miguel’s words, which were honest and uplifting,
‘Don’t be weak!! Remember what Miguel said- Never let anyone tell you you’re not good enough at what you do. You’re perfect and strong, stand up for it.’
You then took a deep breath and said forwardly,
“I’m good enough for this. So just- just please leave me alone.”
A dry laugh met your ears along with more degrading words,
“You’ll never get it huh? No matter what you do without me you’ll never be good enough. I gave you power-“
He gave you the power of fear, fearing all the time, the power of tears, that you cried every night after a scandal he put up. So you worded confidently,
“No you didn’t. You were toxic and abusive. The only power you gave me was to fear you.. but that’s over. Now go-“
You tired really tried your best to stand strong, but it didn’t work out well and it opened old wounds when he dared to raise his voice and slam his hand on the counter again,
Bam!!
“TOXIC?! Wow! Look at you calling the kettle black little girl. You see, you were the toxic one for always disobeying me and saying ‘no’. You were toxic for not letting me love you like I wanted to- I TRIED OK? I did! That you didn’t like rough and all was your little immature and weakling problem, but that’s what happens when you don’t play nice with your daddy.”
Internally you bled as he slashed you open with every word and movement, making you feel less and less like the person you had become.
Miguel’s words fading in your mind as Damien added a new one and went on like a broken record. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you let it out as a gasp when he slammed his hand again and demanded your attention,
“HEY! Aren’t you listening?! Do I have to hit the side of your head so it clicks? Don’t you remember how well that method worked?!”
Diiiing Diiiing!!
Miguel had just walked in with your favorite dinner meal from the coffee shop near by, carrying his on the other hand so he could join you for his little break too.
Just as you had dropped your stuff in fear, so did he.. but he felt a deep concern instead. He witnessed a man half his size tower over the counter and lean towards you with an accusing finger, shoulders visibly moving in aggression.
But what choked his air was your face- oh god how he hated the look of fear on you, it was as if death was standing before you. Miguel immediately walked up and called out to you first, not wanting to scare the man and cause more to happen, as he didn’t know what was up with him.
“Amor? What’s going on?”
The man whipped his head towards Miguel and only smirked at him and said to him while still staring deeply,
“Sir you’ll have to come back later-“
Huffing in disbelief at this guy’s audacity, Miguel turned his attention back to you and saw tears coming down your eyes, making him ask right away,
“Amor, what did he do to you?”
Blocking you with his body Damien bit,
“Why are you assuming I did something wrong?”
At seeing your teary eyes and wet cheeks, Miguel instantly grew defensive and very angry at the man that stood in front of you being an asshole. Miguel knew by his tone that he had probably done something to you, and that only made him more furious... until it clicked for him, who he was.
‘That’s the bitch.. Damien. Mierda.. your so going to wish you never walked in here.’
With an authoritative voice Miguel called out to you,
“Go to the back, and don’t come out.”
He wouldn’t want you to see the ugly side of him that came out when he defended those he’d kill for. He wouldn’t want you to accidentally translate his harshness towards enemies as that he could probably hurt you too with those same hands. No, he o my wanted you to see and know that his hands would only show love and care to you.
So you taking the chance that you knew Miguel wouldn’t dare let Damien come after you, you ran to the back immediately and didn’t look back. Knowing you’d probably pass out from seeing more of the monster that hurt you so much.
———
Miguel back up front then cracked his knuckles and threatened,
“And you, step away from the counter-“
“Why should I? I haven’t done anything to her-“
“And you won’t, ever again. Now I suggest you go and leave her alone-“
“And what are you going to do if I don’t huh? You think I’m scared-“
“Que idiota... You will be. The only fighting you know is how to hit women... try hitting me. I dare you.”
Thinking Miguel wouldn’t try anything, as he was a much larger man, Damien stupidly went at him. But being Spider-Man in disguise had its perks to self defense and fighting skills. So reaching close enough to him, Miguel then side stepped and watched Damien fall forward, hence letting him catch his back collar and slam him to the ground.
Breath knocked out of his lungs at the single action had Damien laying on the ground trying to catch air, but Miguel refused it to him when he hovered over him and held onto his neck tightly with one hand, constricting the airway.
“Thought you liked choking? And pain?”
Damien’s face turned red and Miguel’s heart pinched at the thought of his love and life being in this painful position, because of this low life monster under him. It only made him growl and add to the fire and squeeze harder, not caring about how Damien silently cried for release,
“Hm? Hijo de puta.. vete al carajo... and never come back. If not I’ll make sure you never do.”
And with that Miguel slammed his back one last time to the ground, ignoring the small crack he heard, and then got up, lastly spitting out in a loud voice,
“Now get the hell out! I don’t want to see you around her ever again!!”
Like a cowered dog Damien scurried away, running out the door and going far off, not caring about the weird looks people gave him for how crazy and scared he looked.
Miguel didn’t give him a second thought before darting towards the back room to get you. When he approached the door he knew it’d be locked, so he knocked gently and called out,
“Amor? It’s me.. Miguel. Can you open up?”
Sniffles and hard gasps were heard on the other side, causing him to freak out a bit and call to you again,
“Baby it’s ok. Amor I’m here and it’s safe-“
“I-Is he gone??”
Miguel could hear your short breaths between words and he could feel it in his gut that you were hitting panic mode. So as soft as possible he tried to tell you,
“Yes amor.. he’s gone. I promise, open the door por favor.. I want to see you.”
Silence filled the room a bit. It he then heard the smallest-
click!
As always Miguel never degraded you but instead praised you, even for the smallest things, like unlocking the door.
“Gracias amor, good job baby.”
Slowly he opened it and his heart ripped apart at the sight of your cowered form in the corner of the closet, breath hitching and your small hands trying to wipe away the large tears that rained down on your stained cheeks. With his arms opened to you Miguel did his best to word out everything and let you know what he’d do beforehand,
“Ok amor, I’m going to come to walk to you... can I touch you-“
Your hand inched for him as you whimpered,
“I can- I can’t breathe. hel-p me.”
Hearing you hiccuping for air had Miguel grabbing your face gently, pulling you towards him slowly as he tried to talk you through it to calm you down,
“You’re ok amor. Respira.”
His hand laid on your heart as he led yours to lay on his, he wanted you to work on matching your breathing with is. His other hand held the back of your neck gently and leaned your forehead on his as he went on praising and comforting,
“Just like that amor, breathe. You’re doing so well-“
“I feel so sc-scared.. like if it’s all in my throat-“
“I know amor-“
“I didn’t know what to-to do-“
“It’s not your fault-“
You tried to push away and bury yourself in dark thoughts of untruth,
“But it is! I let him... how could you lo-love someone like me that folds- Mmph!!”
Miguel wouldn’t have it, he loved you too much to let you drown in hurtful thoughts, so to silence your head and words, he had pulled you in for a deep kiss.
Instantly it had helped you stopped thinking crap about yourself and doubt everything with Miguel, and it helped you calm your breathing as you felt him move his lips against yours softly yet firmly. Your hands wrapped around his neck and brought him back closer to you, not wanting to let go. Miguel then pulled away, but only enough to mumble coherently,
“I love you *kiss* and you’re safe *kiss* I won’t hurt you *kissssss* I got you amor *kiss kiss* I’m not going anywhere without you *kiss*.”
The kisses in between confirmations had calmed you down right away, feeling his hands embrace you and run over your arms and waist gently had got you to stop fidgeting as well. With a one last kiss to your head, Miguel slowly stood up, helping you stand as his arms wrapped around you, he then suggested to you,
“Let’s go home amor, c’mere. Tomorrow’s your day off anyways and we can get up late to and rest.”
You were about to walk out in hand with him, but Miguel had different plans as he was feeling still protective over you and wanted you close. He crouched down a bit and worded,
“Jump and wrap your legs around me-“
“Mig-“
“It’s ok amor, don’t worry about anything.. I got you.”
No more doubt rested in you at the thought of him carrying you, so you gladly accepted and jumped in his arms. You looked small in his arms, but you felt so safe and secure as one of his large arms held you up. He grabbed your bags of food and let you hold them as he helped you clock out and lock up.
Your head rested in his neck as your arms wrapped around him, when he had taken off his coat to drape over you. He didn’t mind to walk you home to your apartment that was two blocks away, as long as you were with him he was content.
Once home you both ate comfortably and soon were cuddling in bed, Miguel the whole time held you close and promised to keep you safe, letting you know that you’d never see your ex again, and when you asked how that would be possible, he stated,
“Just let me take care of it Amor... you’ll be ok. Now rest baby.. I’ll be here with you in the morning.. I texted my boss that I won’t be coming in. So sleep amor.”
You lifted your head off his chest and pecked his lips as you thanked him,
“Thank you... for everything. I don’t deserve you-“
Miguel held your cheek and insisted,
“You deserve all of me and more.. and I’ll remind you everyday until you believe it.”
He kissed away your tears and kissed you once more as you nodded,
“Ok... I love you.”
“I love you so much more. Te voy a amar... por siempre.”
And with that you had passed out in his arms, cuddled close to his chest, your heart beats synchronizing as one.
Miguel made sure you had passed out deeply, before sliding out of bed and kissing you back to sleep as he covered you completely and made sure you were ok, before leaving the place. He had a promise to keep, and he intended to do it as fast as possible.
—————-
“He’s yours.”
Officer Jefferson Davis looked at Miguel with a frown as he saw the beat up Damien in who he knew as Spider-Man 2099’s hands. Jefferson grabbed Damien and asked,
“Well what did this punching bag do?”
Damien cried pathetically as he tried to reach for Miguel,
“He’s crazy! I didn’t do anything! Aren’t you supposed to fight villains and not civilians?!?”
Miguel stood tall and interrupted him,
“You harassed the library lady today, and threatened to hurt her. Villains hurt people.. and you like to hurt women.. so that makes you a villain. And I’m not going to let that happen.”
Jefferson nodded his head in agreement and replied to Spider-Man,
“That’s good enough to lock him up for a while-“
He then pulled Damien towards an Officer as he added,
“-you look like the kind of loser that pulls those stunts- damn my wife would beat your ass. Get him in cuffs and to the station. He doesn’t deserve a hospital-“
“But I think he broke my arms!-“
Jefferson rolled his eyes and huffed,
“Good! Now you’ll have another reason why to not hit women!”
Once he was dragged away, he went to thank Spider-Man,
“I appreciate this. It’s hard to catch these guys sometimes, but I’m glad you keep an eye out for them and for the community.”
Shaking his hand Miguel responded,
“It’s not a problem.. just.. just keep in him there for the longest time you can.”
Jefferson understood without needing more, so he promised,
“I’ll make sure of that. Now I need to go make sure that happens-“
With a salute Miguel bid,
“You do that Sir. Have a goodnight.”
Saluting back Jefferson smiled,
“You too Spider-Man.”
Back at home, and in your arms, Miguel smiled to himself at seeing your peaceful self, knowing you wouldn’t be hurt by Damien ever again. Softly he placed a kiss on your cheek and whispered,
“He won’t hurt you again.. te amo.”
Now he held you close to him and soon fell asleep to the sound of your breathing and warmth against him. Both of you sleeping soundly in peace and security.
Spanish translations:
Corazon- heart
Te voy a amar por siempre- I’ll love you forever
Que idiota- what an idiot
Hijo de puta- son of a bitch
Vete al carajo- go to hell
Respira- breathe
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