#not actually goodnight. I’m still here and will be for hours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bu3ck3r · 2 months ago

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back in your arms

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: p surprising a in storrs

a/n: thank u anon for this request i had fun writing it. also lmk if there’s any mistakes. enjoyyy

azzi stood near the free-throw line, drenched in sweat, hair tied up in a messy bun, trying to focus. afternoon light poured through the high windows, catching on the glow of her skin. she launched another shot—net. another—miss. another—net. she didn’t even care about her percentage anymore. she just needed to distract herself.

her phone had been sitting on the floor for the past three hours, still no response from paige.

one day. that’s all it had been. twenty-four hours since paige last texted her, but azzi felt like she was unraveling.

paige never went a whole day without replying. not even during her busiest days in the wnba. they always found time, even if it was at 1 a.m. “i love you” voice notes or a 30-second facetime just to say goodnight.

so where the hell was she?

azzi gasped and grabbed her water bottle, chugging half of it before checking her phone again. still nothing. her heart was punching at her ribs with that all too familiar fear. was she okay? was something wrong?

she shot another three-pointer. missed.

“damn it,” she muttered.

she didn’t hear the door open.

meanwhile, near the campus, a car pulled into the parking lot behind the gym. paige leaned forward in the passenger seat, pulling her hood lower over her forehead.

“you are so dramatic,” said caroline from the driver’s seat, trying not to laugh.

“i told you i wanted this to be a surprise. she probably thinks i ghosted her,” paige said, her mouth twisting with guilt.

“i swear if you get mobbed before you even make it into the gym, i’m leaving your ass here.”

“you’re a terrible friend.”

“i’m the best friend. now go before she actually breaks up with you.”

paige grinned and hopped out, sneaking through the entrance like she used to.

her stomach was fluttering. she hadn’t seen azzi in three weeks.

and now, paige was here.

she opened the gym door quietly, slipping in through the shadows. her heart instantly bounced.

there she was.

azzi.

mid free-throw, breathing hard, focus written across her face. she looked tired. she looked pissed. she looked beautiful.

paige stood there for a moment and watched. she could’ve watched forever.

then azzi turned—and froze.

the ball slipped from her fingers. it bounced away, rolling toward the sideline. her eyes went wide.

“paige?” she whispered.

and then she ran and launched herself at paige so fast she barely had time to open her arms. their bodies collided, hard, azzi wrapping her legs around paige’s waist, arms around her neck. her face buried in paige’s shoulder, paige stumbled back with a laugh, holding her tight.

“damn,” paige breathed. “you missed me that much?”

azzi didn’t respond at first—just kissed her, hard. it wasn’t gentle or slow. it was all lips and heat and the bite of longing. her hands curled into paige’s hair, pulling her in closer. paige’s fingers dug into azzi’s waist, grounding them both. when they finally broke apart, azzi glared at her.

“you didn’t respond to me for a whole day,” she said, accusing.

“i know,” paige said, nuzzling her nose into azzi’s cheek. “because i was flying to you.”

“you suck.”

“you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

paige grinned. “caroline picked me up. she thinks you’re gonna kill me.”

“i might.”

“you were one more missed text away from a breakdown, huh?”

azzi lightly smacked her chest. “shut up.”

paige kissed her again. “i missed you too, baby.”

they didn’t even notice that someone had walked in until ice’s voice rang through the gym.

“okay, what is going on here?”

azzi whipped her head around, still clinging to paige, as ice and kk walked in.

paige barely managed to catch azzi’s legs and set her down.

kk stared for a beat. “wait is that p boogers?”

“surprise,” paige said with a smirk, arms still around azzi’s waist.

ice nearly dropped her water bottle. “what?!”

they both ran over, crowding paige with hugs and disbelief.

“you didn’t tell anyone?!” ice said.

“caroline knew,” paige replied.

azzi grumbled, tugging paige back to her. “okay, okay. y’all got your hugs. she’s mine. back off.”

“god, you two are so gay,” ice said, sipping her drink. “can y’all not touch each other for one second, like damn.”

“nope,” paige and azzi said in unison.

kk snorted. “insufferable.”

but they were all smiling.

later, as they walked back to the dorms together, paige held azzi’s hand tightly. the sun was dipping low, casting gold across the trees. azzi hadn’t let go of her since the gym. she kept brushing their arms together like she couldn’t believe paige was real.

paige leaned in and whispered, “so… how mad were you?”

azzi narrowed her eyes. “i was this close to calling your teammates.”

paige laughed. “would’ve been worth it.”

“only because i didn’t actually.”

“mmm i like when you’re clingy.”

azzi rolled her eyes. “oh please, you’re the one who flew here.”

paige stopped her and pulled her close.

“yeah. because i couldn’t go another day without you.”

she kissed her again, soft and lingering, right there in the path. azzi melted into her, arms around her neck. they stood there for a long moment, caught in a world only they understood.

azzi whispered against her lips, “don’t disappear on me again.”

“i won’t,” paige said. “i promise.”

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

the dorm was unusually quiet, but as paige and azzi stepped through the doors—still holding hands—there was an immediate shift in the air.

from around the corner, jana appeared, holding a bowl of cereal.

she blinked once. “wait, is that?”

before she could finish, ice and kk came walking down the hallway, still buzzing from the surprise.

“paige bueckers is in the buildingg,” ice announced to literally no one and everyone.

a door slammed. sarah’s voice floated down, “what?”

paige squeezed azzi’s hand tighter.

“oh my god,” jana muttered, mouth full of cereal.

azzi immediately stepped closer to paige, hand drifting from paige’s fingers to her waist, like claiming territory. “okay, okay,” she said coolly. “calm down.”

“i cant believe you’re here.” kk shouted.

“surprise,” paige said again, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“i literally cried last time you left.” jana threw her arms around paige dramatically. “welcome home, p.”

paige hugged her back, laughing. “missed you too.”

“alright,” azzi said, gently pulling paige back into her arms. “y’all got your moment. she’s with me now.”

“relax,” ice said. “no one’s gonna steal your girl.”

azzi didn’t let go.

kk raised an eyebrow. “damn, girl, we just want to say hi. you’re gripping her like she’s gonna vanish.”

paige turned to azzi, teasing: “i kinda like this new possessive you.”

“you’re never leaving again,” azzi mumbled, face tucked into her shoulder.

the girls all let out exaggerated groans.

“you two make me feel so single.” ice muttered, grabbing her cereal from jana.

“y’all are just mad we’re in love,” paige called after them.

“more like allergic to pda,” kk said. “bro can y’all not touch each other for a minute?”

paige grinned. “absolutely not.”

azzi looked at her with a smile.

they finally made it to azzi’s room—after paige was forced into one more group hug—and shut the door behind them.

the second it clicked closed, paige turned around and leaned against it.

“god, i missed this room,” she said. “smells like you.”

azzi raised an eyebrow. “you missed me.”

“well obviously,” paige said, reaching for her.

azzi practically tackled her onto the bed.

they landed in a mess of limbs and soft sheets. azzi hovered over her, arms braced on either side of paige’s shoulders. she looked down at her for a long moment, her expression softening. paige reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from azzi’s cheek.

“you really scared me today,” azzi said quietly.

“i know,” paige whispered. “i’m sorry.”

azzi leaned down, forehead to forehead. “i thought something was wrong.”

“i just… i wanted to see your face when i showed up. i needed that reaction.”

“you needed me to almost lose my mind?”

paige grinned. “i was right though, huh?”

azzi sighed and kissed her. “shut up.”

their lips met again—slower now, deeper. the tension of the day began to melt into something warmer, needier. azzi’s body pressed flush against paige’s, hands roaming beneath the hem of her hoodie.

paige slid her hands beneath azzi’s tank top, thumbs tracing the soft skin of her waist. “been dreaming about this for days.”

azzi’s lips were hot against her neck now, teeth grazing lightly. “same.”

clothes started disappearing in quiet layers—hoodie tossed, shorts slipped off, tank tops lost between kisses. the room filled with the quiet hum of breathing, the creak of the mattress, the sound of two people desperate to feel every inch of each other after weeks apart.

paige took her time, lips and fingertips memorizing the curves she already knew by heart. azzi whispered her name like it was sacred.

after they finished, they stayed tangled together under the sheets, sweat cooling, hearts still thudding.

paige brushed azzi’s hair back and kissed her forehead.

“that was…”

“amazing,” azzi mumbled, lips against her collarbone.

“you trying to make me never leave?”

“is it working?”

paige laughed softly. “god, yes.”

an hour later, paige was half asleep when she heard it:

knock. knock. knock.

then ice’s voice from outside the door: “can y’all please be quiet next time? we could hear y’all loud and clear.”

kk added from the hallway: “i am so done with y’all.”

paige muffled her face into azzi’s shoulder, laughing.

“we weren’t that loud,” azzi protested weakly.

“baby i’m pretty sure you screamed my name. twice,” paige whispered.

azzi hit her with a pillow.

paige kissed her cheek. “i love when you yell.”

“oh my god stop.” azzi rolled her eyes, but she was blushing hard.

eventually, they got dressed again—barely—and cracked the door open. sure enough, kk and ice were on the couch playing fortnite, pretending they hadn’t just roasted them through a closed door.

“we’re getting food,” paige said. “y’all hungry?”

ice didn’t even look up. “starving.”

“but you two need to chill.”

paige smirked. “can’t promise that.”

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

the night air was warm, the breeze filtering through the open windows of azzi’s car. paige was driving. obviously.

they were barely two minutes into the drive when paige’s hand found azzi’s thigh.

“really?” azzi murmured, glancing over with a raised brow, though she made no move to stop her. she even shifted slightly so paige’s hand could rest higher.

“i need my hand to stay somewhere calm,” paige said, eyes still on the road. “and your thigh is the softest thing i’ve touched in three weeks.”

from the back seat, kk groaned. “you two are disgusting.”

“bruh i did not miss this at all.” ice added, head tilted dramatically against the headrest.

azzi reached over and turned the volume up a little just to drown them out. “we’re being normal,” she said, smirking.

paige nodded. “it’s just a hand on a high.”

“if you two start making out at a stoplight, i’m walking home.” kk muttered.

paige flashed a grin in the rearview mirror. “no promises.”

“i’ll throw myself out the window,” ice said flatly. “i mean it.”

ice and kk ordered enough food for a football team. azzi and paige split fries, giggling like middle schoolers over how long the mozzarella sticks took.

azzi kept brushing her foot against paige’s under the table. paige kept whispering things in her ear that made her blush.

at one point, kk leaned back with her chocolate milkshake. “so, when are you two getting married?”

azzi nearly choked. paige just smirked. “you wanna be the flower girl?”

“i’ll be the priest if it gets y’all to chill out,” ice deadpanned.

they ended the night back in the car, food wrappers rustling, laughter trailing off as paige drove them through sleepy storrs roads.

back in the dorm, ice and kk peeled off toward the common room with a final warning:

“if we hear anything again tonight,” ice called out, “we’re starting a gofundme.”

“we finna put y’all down for a noise complaint for real,” kk added. “good night.”

azzi rolled her eyes, dragging paige toward her room again. “they love us.”

“they hate us,” paige replied, laughing.

azzi closed the bathroom door behind them, locking it out of habit. the warm light made the tiles glow softly. paige sat on the edge of the sink, tugging off her socks while azzi reached into the shower and turned on the water. steam rose slowly.

“i don’t even care that we’ve only been apart for three weeks,” paige said, standing to lift her shirt over her head. “it felt like a year.”

azzi glanced at her over her shoulder, smiling. “it really did.”

soon enough they stepped into the shower together. paige immediately pulled azzi close under the stream, hands sliding down her back, lips pressing to her temple. azzi looped her arms around paige’s neck and rested her head on her shoulder.

“i’ve missed this,” azzi said quietly.

“same.”

they stayed like that for a while—just holding each other, letting the heat soak into their skin.

then, inevitably, hands started wandering. paige’s mouth drifted down azzi’s jaw and azzi arched into her with a quiet gasp, fingers tangling in her wet blonde hair.

there was nothing rushed about it. it was slow. intimate. needed.

after the shower they were wrapped in fresh towels and oversized shirts, as they got ready for bed together—brushing teeth side by side at the sink, laughing as azzi sprayed way too much detangler in paige’s hair.

they climbed into bed with legs tangled, the fan humming above them. paige was on her back, azzi sprawled half across her, head on her chest.

paige’s fingers played lazily with the hem of azzi’s l shirt. “i really wish i could stay longer.”

“you have like… three days off, right?”

“yeah. but i already wanna freeze time.”

azzi looked up at her, eyes a little misty. “i miss you every day.”

paige kissed her gently. “you have no idea how proud of you i am.”

“same,” azzi whispered. “every time i see highlights of you, i scream. like. out loud. in the gym.”

“i know,” paige smirked. “caroline told me.”

azzi blushed, hiding her face. “traitor.”

“you’re gonna be there soon,” paige said softly. “wnba. i can’t wait to watch you drop 30 on everyone.”

azzi traced little circles on paige’s stomach. “you’ll be in the front row, right?”

“always.”

they kissed again—slow and warm, no urgency this time. just love.

and when they finally curled up under the blanket, azzi whispered into paige’s neck: “don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“i won’t.”

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

the morning sunlight spilled into azzi’s room like it owned the place. paige groaned and rolled deeper under the sheets, burying her face in azzi’s neck.

“get up, sleepyhead,” azzi murmured, brushing her fingers through paige’s messy hair.

“no,” paige mumbled. “i’m retired.”

“you literally played a game last week.”

“exactly. let me live.”

azzi kissed her cheek. “i have practice baby.”

paige pulled her closer. “cancel it.”

azzi laughed. “you want me to get benched?”

paige shrugged. “then i’ll get benched too. solidarity.”

“you don’t even play for uconn anymore.”

“minor detail.”

azzi was in the gym with a few teammates running drills. her jumper was smooth as ever, but something in her posture said her mind was somewhere else—every glance toward the door, every pause between sets.

then the door creaked open.

“nice form,” paige called out, leaning casually against the wall in a uconn tee that showed off her muscles just right.

azzi froze. so did everyone else.

ice dropped the ball she was holding. “oh no.”

kk clapped dramatically. “here we go again.”

azzi jogged over to paige like she hadn’t already seen her all night and morning, like her body just moved on instinct. the moment she was close enough, she threw her arms around her and kissed her full on the mouth—right there in front of the team.

“wow,” jana muttered.

“you miss me that much?” paige teased when they broke apart, brushing her thumb over azzi’s cheek.

azzi grinned. “shut up. you’re the one who showed up looking like that.”

kk groaned. “i can’t be here.”

sarah pointed at the door. “take it to a room. this is a training facility.”

“you’re just mad we’re cute,” azzi called over her shoulder as she tugged paige toward the bleachers.

“i’m mad y’all are making me miss my girl,” kk shouted back.

later that night, paige and azzi were back in her room, sprawled out on the bed again, hair still damp from another steamy shower they’d taken “to cool down,” which was a lie and everyone knew it.

paige reached into her bag and pulled out a neatly folded t-shirt.

azzi’s eyes widened. “is that…?”

“my dallas warmup shirt,” paige said, handing it over. “figured you should have one. smells like me. you’re welcome.”

azzi held it to her chest. “i’m never taking this off.”

“please do, eventually,” paige said. “or you’ll smell like an actual locker room.”

azzi threw a pillow at her. “you’re so annoying.”

“you love it.”

“i do,” she admitted, smiling softly.

just before lights out, they wandered into the kitchen to grab snacks.

ice was sprawled on the couch with kk, both of them locked into a chaotic fortnite match. the second they spotted paige and azzi, they both screamed in unison:

“get a room!”

paige blinked. “we have a room.”

“y’all just came out of it,” kk said, tossing her controller down. “and now you’re back like nothing happened.”

“you two need supervision,” ice added.

“we’re literally just getting snacks,” azzi said, grabbing a bag of popcorn.

“y’all get snacks like you’re in a movie scene,” kk complained. “too much eye contact and way too much touching.”

paige slid an arm around azzi’s waist. “we’re just affectionate.”

“you’re menace-level affectionate,” ice muttered.

azzi just kissed paige’s cheek. “jealousy is a disease.”

kk gagged audibly.

back in azzi’s room, they climbed under the covers, the popcorn bowl between them, a movie playing softly in the background.

azzi wore paige’s dallas shirt. it hung down her thighs, barely covering her. paige stared for way too long.

“eyes up here.”

“you got it princess.”

they fed each other popcorn until paige started licking the butter off of azzi’s fingers, making her laugh.

azzi tackled her and they rolled around laughing until paige pinned her with a playful smirk.

“you’re so whipped,” paige teased.

“me?” azzi raised an eyebrow. “you flew across the country.”

“i came here for basketball,” paige joked.

azzi leaned down and kissed her, long and slow. “liar.”

paige smiled into the kiss. “you caught me.”

the next evening came too fast.

azzi lay on her back in bed, hair still damp from the shower they’d just taken together, paige resting beside her in nothing but an old uconn shirt and soft cotton shorts.

their skin still buzzed — from the warmth of the water, from each other.

they’d barely kept their hands to themselves while in the bathroom.

paige had been behind azzi the entire time — arms around her waist while they brushed their teeth, kissing her shoulder between swipes of the toothbrush, murmuring, “you’re so damn pretty,” through a mouth full of toothpaste.

azzi had almost spit hers out from laughing.

now, back in bed, it was quiet. paige’s hand was resting on azzi’s stomach, her fingers idly tracing small circles on her skin. her legs tangled with azzi’s under the blankets.

“you smell like my shampoo,” azzi whispered.

paige smiled. “you smell like heaven.”

“you’re such a cornball.”

“and yet, here you are,” paige murmured, nuzzling closer. “loving every second of it.”

azzi reached up and ran her fingers through paige’s slightly damp hair. “i really do.”

they kissed again — soft, slow, and lingering. like neither of them wanted it to end.

paige rolled onto her side, propping herself on one elbow so she could look down at azzi. her eyes were serious, warm.

“you know i think about you all the time when i’m in dallas, right?”

azzi nodded. “same. every single day.”

“i hate being away from you.”

“me too. but i think it’s also… making us stronger.”

paige smiled. “yeah. it’s like… no matter where we are, we’re still us.”

azzi leaned up and kissed her chin. “we’ll be together full-time soon.”

“i know.” paige gently tucked a strand of hair behind azzi’s ear. “when you get to the league… i hope we’re on the same team.”

“if not, i’m guarding you every time,” azzi smirked. “and i’m locking you up.”

paige laughed. “you wish. you’d foul out in the first half.”

“you’d fall in love again mid-game and lose focus.”

“unfair tactic,” paige grinned. “using my heart against me.”

azzi leaned up and kissed her deeply, then whispered, “you’re mine. always.”

paige kissed her again, slower this time, hands on azzi’s hips, holding her like she was everything.

because she was.

─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

the next morning, the sun wasn’t even up yet. paige had to head back to dallas.

azzi stood in the hallway, wearing one of paige’s hoodies, watching as paige zipped up her bag.

“i should sabotage your flight,” azzi said, arms crossed, pretending to pout.

“don’t tempt me to miss it.”

they stood at the door for too long. hugging. kissing. whispering promises they’d already made a dozen times over.

“i love you,” azzi said into paige’s neck.

“i love you more,” paige said, pulling back and brushing their noses together. “don’t argue. i win.”

azzi narrowed her eyes. “fine. but only this time.”

caroline arrived to drive paige to the airport, honking once from outside the dorm.

paige opened the door, bag slung over her shoulder, azzi clinging to her hand like it might be the last time.

ice and kk were on the couch — again.

as soon as they saw the two lovebirds in the doorway, they both said:

“thank god, we can finally have peace again.”

azzi flipped them off, still clinging to paige.

ice pointed to the hallway. “now kiss and go.”

paige turned to azzi and, right in front of everyone, kissed her like she meant it — like she always did.

azzi was breathless when they broke apart.

“be safe,” she whispered.

“you too. text me the second you get out of practice.”

azzi smiled, tears welling up. “i love you.”

paige cupped her face. “i’ll see you soon, okay?”

azzi nodded. “okay.”

azzi was still in bed, paige’s hoodie swallowed around her like a second skin. the sheets smelled like her. the silence was heavier now, like the room knew it was missing someone.

her phone buzzed.

she didn’t expect anything—paige hadn’t texted since she left—but when she opened it and saw the name, her heart caught in her throat.

leaving sucks. i hate every part of it. packing, airports, this stupid seat that isn’t next to you. but i just wanted you to know that i’m still carrying the way you looked at me this morning. i’m still hearing your laugh in my head. i still feel your hands on me, like they left a print only i can see. i left my heart in your bed. wrapped in your sheets. wrapped in you. so yeah, i’ll be back soon. because i don’t feel like me when i’m not with you. i love you, az.

azzi read it once, then again, slower. the ache in her chest swelled until it pushed tears from her eyes—quiet, stubborn ones she wiped away with the cuff of paige’s sleeve.

she buried her face in the hoodie and whispered into the cotton:

“i’m not me without you either.”

she didn’t cry.

much.

after a minute she decided to reply.

you’re the worst for making me cry this early. i miss you so much it physically hurts. the bed’s too cold. the room’s too quiet. i keep rolling over expecting to find you there. you really did leave your heart here. and i’m holding onto it like it’s mine, because it is. so don’t take too long, okay? i need your laugh in this room again. i need your hands, your voice, your everything. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anything. come back to me soon. i love you, p.

paige stared at azzi’s message, she hadn’t expected a reply so fast—definitely not one that hit her this hard.

her chest tightened.

she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to fight the sting in her eyes. it didn’t work.

she read it again. and again.

then, quietly, she smiled to herself.

she pulled her hoodie tighter, still faintly smelling like azzi, and typed with thumbs that shook a little more than she’d ever admit:

i’m coming back the second i can. im yours, az. always. i don’t know how i got this lucky, but i’m not letting you go. i love you. so damn much.

she locked her phone, leaned her head against the window, and whispered, barely loud enough to hear herself:

“im gonna marry her one day.”

#fiction #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #dallas wings #uconn huskies #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics

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ittybittyfanblog · 2 months ago

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Error 404: Spin-off

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. Update: Sylus went ahead and got himself mortalized (That's it, that's the plot). Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, slight crack (literally. lmao, you’ll see), FLUFF! A/N: Finally starting the spin-off! Hello again 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 I’ve got a rough outline for the flow and a few key chapters mapped out, but I’m keeping it flexible for the most part. This isn’t gonna be a full structured story, so think more like vignettes of their life, w/ some world-building here and there (laying some groundwork for future chapters hehe). Come thru if you wanna see what error!Sylus and our lil player are up to post-reality jump 🙂‍↕️🙏🏼 Also: no posting schedule! I’m treating this like a chill side project I can pick up whenever, so not every part’s gonna be lengthy/that polished hehe. Mostly short snippets, unless the chapter calls for a longer one. (P.S. Just send a DM if you want to be taken off the taglist lol. I just assumed you guys would still want to follow along, but no pressure at all if you don’t! 💕)

(main series) - Pt. 1 - Pt. 2

You keep waiting to wake up.

For the sound of your phone alarm to blare somewhere beneath the covers, forcing you to fish it out at seven-thirty-something in the morning. For this absolutely wonderful, absolute mindfuck of a dream, to end—and for the real world to set in.

For another uneventful day to begin, the way it usually does after a short reprieve from the hustle and the bustle of life.

From behind the bathroom door, the sound of the shower cuts off.

You scramble to open the cupboard overhead, grabbing the pepper shaker from the first shelf. You do four rotations over the half-cooked omelette before flipping it over with a rubber spatula, trying not to lose your cool. Or what’s left of it.

Three days. It’s been three days since it dawned on you that Sylus has actually managed to cross the threshold – through a tiny, impossible fissure in the fabric of reality – just to get to this dimension. Your dimension.

Three days since you locked eyes with the other half of your soul from across a room, no screen separating the two of you for once. No physical barrier to stop him from catching you as you ran toward him past the counter, just as twilight kissed the sky goodnight, sobbing at the first touch of his skin—electric against yours. The taste of his lips, the bittersweet notes of extant longing and pure bliss blooming on your tongue as he captured your mouth in his; the two of you lost in each other, uncaring of anything beyond that precious, shared moment.

And three days for your mind to finally catch up to the sheer impossibility of it all.

As far as your Sundays go, you’d say this one takes the cake.

He’s been staying in a modest little rental just a couple of blocks away from you. Nothing extravagant – just a transient house he’s leased for the week. Not that you’ve technically been inside to know; he only pointed it out once, the single-storey residential from across the main street, as the two of you were heading back home—your home. To your little studio apartment.

Him. Sylus. In your condo. You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it.

You know that he’d just arrived in town two days before that fateful encounter at the bistro. That he’d already done his research to know exactly where you were going to be during that hour, and that he’s been here, on Earth, for quite some time now. Even before meeting you.

But past this knowledge, you haven’t actually covered much of anything, really. Just this little awkward dancing around you’ve been doing since you’ve been together.

And you know you should ask, probe, have him break down the hows of his existence to you, a clearer timeline of exactly when he popped into this world, what he’s been up to in all the time he’s been here… and why he’s even waited so long to come to you directly.

You’re painfully aware that it’s just you who’s keeping yourself from getting the answers you want. You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be. You can’t help it.

There’s no manual to tell you how to deal with your emotions when your virtual lover appears in front of you, in the flesh, miraculously defying all laws of physics in the process. No handbook telling you what to do next when something you’ve been wishing for every night before going to bed – for the past two years – actually manifests into being.

Someone you’ve always longed for, staked deep within the confines of your heart, but never truly imagined the consequences of until your wishful thinking bled into reality.

And now he’s here.

All things considered, you think you’ve done an okay job at acting like everything’s normal. Mostly. Probably.

(You haven’t.)

The day after he showed up at your proverbial doorstep, you almost couldn’t believe everything that had transpired a mere twenty hours ago was even real. That maybe your brain had just gotten creative enough to invent a Hallmark-worthy scene to win you a one-way trip to your therapist—and that, maybe, you’d conjured him up simply because you missed him and you’re so down bad, your mind decided to start playing tricks on you.

...which nearly had your soul catapulting out of your body at the sight of the—extremely corporeal, extremely attractive—raven-haired (!) man moving through your kitchen the first morning he stayed over, wearing a black V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants, ambling barefoot like he already knew the place by heart.

You suppose he does, you allow cautiously, an odd sort of warmth blooming in your chest at the thought. Of course he would.

Still. It didn’t erase the surrealness of seeing Sylus, the Sylus—mortal, perfect, wonderfully alive—brewing you a cup of coffee at nine in the morning, your brain failing to fully comprehend the image of his towering figure working your faulty, secondhand De’Longhi like a pro.

"Are you," he started, eyes zooming in on the spot between your thumb and forefinger, mouth twitching like he's trying not to laugh, "pinching yourself?"

You had quickly withdrawn your hand, schooling your face into a poor attempt at nonchalance as you reached for the steaming blue mug he was holding out to you. "...No."

You can't help but hover around him, like some weird satellite desperate for orbit. You find yourself sneaking glances every five seconds—and more often than not, he meets your gaze with a wayward look of his own.

He never calls you out on it; he just gives you an infuriatingly impish smirk that sends your heart into overdrive, making you feel younger than you are.

You’re still stewing over the events of the past few days, absentmindedly worrying whether the eggs needed more salt, when you hear the bathroom door open.

You whip your head around, and all systems crash to a stop.

Oh god. Oh fuck.

He’s standing there—all six-foot-five of pure, lean muscle, like sin sculpted out of marble and left to walk your unvacuumed parquet wood floor without so much as a care for the cluttered little living space he’s in, looking completely at ease. Fresh from the shower, steam rising lazily from every inch of bare skin laid out in front of you, and it’s like The Neuron™ in your brain activates. The towel slung low across his hips leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, reducing your thoughts monosyllabic, like some half-evolved primate ready for mating season or whatever. Hot man. Hot man shirtless. Involuntarily, your eyes track a stray rivulet sliding down; right where the faintest suggestion of a happy trail (!!!) begins and ends… and you’re gone. Lost in some kind of trance.

Utterly hypnotised, you watch as it soaks into the edge of the borrowed sage green terry cotton, faintly wondering if what’s beneath it could soak you the same way, shit—

A strangled noise slips past your lips.

It’s terrible. You sound like a dying cow. Hot man’s fault. Bad.

A snort breaks you out of your shameless ogling.

Your head jerks up like you’ve been caught red-handed doing something you're not supposed to, guiltily meeting his eyes. You see Sylus already watching you wryly, the heavy drag of his half-lidded stare rooting you in place.

Your face starts to flush red with embarrassment, heat climbing all the way up to your ears.

He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe; arms crossed loosely over his chest, completely relaxed, and clearly getting a kick out of whatever expression you’ve got at the moment. His gaze doesn't waver, stuck on you like glue, drinking in every flustered reaction with quiet amusement.

You swallow nervously. His eyes flicker down, tracing the movement of your throat, and his lips tug up into a semblance of a smile.

Fuuuuck.

"You already started on breakfast without me, sweetie?" He tuts in mock-disapproval. "I told you it’d take me less than twenty minutes to shower."

You don’t manage much in response, just a dumb, garbled, "mhm, s’okay."

You're completely blanked out at this point—bluescreen dead if you will—except for one panicked thought flashing through your brain: Holy shit, he's practically naked. Sylus Qin from Love and Deepspace is practically naked in my house.

Then, not long after, a chorus of, “oh my god oh my god oh my god” starts looping in your head, overriding what little composure you had left like some raunchy PSA warning you about the dangerous rise of moisture down south.

Sylus cocks his head slightly, sending you a sly, knowing look—one that says he knows exactly what's going on in that overstimulated little brain of yours.

Slowly, he pushes himself off and saunters closer to where you are, taking his time crossing the distance with easy, measured steps. As if he’s in no rush at all to get to you. As if he’s merely curious whether you’ll combust just from him shortening the proximity between your bodies.

(You think you just might.)

And when he’s standing barely a few inches away – close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him – Sylus leans down, effectively trapping you between the counter and the solid wall of his chest. Between granite and sinew.

You lose all capacity to speak.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out a hand to shut off the burner stove behind you with an easy flick of his wrist, the brief brush of his arm sending a shiver down your spine. Then, with maddening tenderness, he pinches your cheek between two fingers—his thumb caressing the spot right after.

In a voice filled with faux sympathy, he coos, “What’s got you all distracted, poppet?”

He’s teasing. You know he’s teasing.

He’s done nothing but tease you with his devastatingly good looks, his overwhelming presence, and syrupy words spoken so sinfully in that low cadence of his voice, ever since he arrived. And, oh, you’re not sure whether to scream or kiss the smug look off his face silly.

You’re so bad at being subtle. You always have been, especially when it comes to him. And you know you can’t hide anything from Sylus – from the smallest flicker of microexpression on your face, down to the shortness of your breath. Both of you know this. Both of you painfully aware of the effect he has on you.

And just as much, you know he’s been holding himself back—that no matter how flirtatious he gets, he’s still keeping enough control to pull away whenever you start to get too overwhelmed.

Despite his provocations, Sylus never pushes. He waits, patiently. Giving you the space to volley back if you want to. And if you don’t, he backs off in a second, with the same effortless ease he uses to tease you. Leaving you room to breathe again.

Rinse, repeat.

It’s almost as if you two are playing a game with poorly drawn rules. You don’t know who’s winning.

The little spell breaks when you feel a disgruntled meow against your shin; it's immediately followed by a cat headbutting you, twice in succession, with a surprising amount of aggression.

"Not used to sharing your mother, are you?" Sylus sighs, pulling back from where he’d been caging you in—his movements slow, reluctant.

A warning hiss rises from below. He raises his hands in mock surrender, stepping back to a safer distance, just out of swiping range.

"Yes, yes. You win,” he grumbles in acquiescence at the testy feline, a comically put-upon look on his face. “For now.”

You pull your eyes away from his bicep—look, you're just a girl, okay—to blink down at the temperamental little creature who’s now self-appointed himself as your personal foot guard.

He’s making some vague, cryptic noises, something between a purr and a growl, while keeping his eyes locked firmly on Sylus’ leg.

"He–um, he might just be hungry," you manage to mutter. A quick glance at the food bowl says otherwise. "...or not."

Sylus huffs under his breath, a low sound, equal parts understanding and mildly affronted. He tilts his head – eyes narrowing at the untouched kibble, then to the small furry menace claiming your feet like a jilted lover.

Unfortunately, Maru’s reception to the new person has been... less than cordial.

From the moment Sylus walked in the apartment, Maru had hissed at him as if to say: There is no reason for a Man to be here, before darting beneath the coffee table – tail lashing with all the theatrics of a petulant child. The churlish product of a mother who's been single for far too long, that he’s decided he’s the only boy she’ll ever need.

It strikes you as a little odd. He never usually gets antsy around guests, and you'd even thought he and Sylus got along—or at least, back when the man in question was confined to mere pixels on screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have counted on that.

Sylus, to his credit, hasn't once tried to close the distance or force a peace treaty. Amused, definitely; the way his eyes glint whenever Maru glares at him could almost qualify as charmed. But since stepping into your home, he’s been mindful about giving the creature a wide berth, moving with the quiet understanding that respect here is sacrosanct, something to be earned. That he’s the one imposing, and the truce between him and the (true) man of the house is a fragile, delicate thing.

You honestly haven’t decided if Maru’s behaviour is because he’s protective... or just pissed that someone else is hogging your attention.

"It’s alright, sweetie," Sylus—your son’s chosen rival—soothed you reassuringly; his hand rubbing a slow, comforting circle over the small of your back when he caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. "He’s just feeling territorial about his space right now. Give it some time."

“I’ll get dressed,” Sylus murmurs. “Don’t start on the coffee without me.�� He presses a kiss to your forehead, then another between your brows; the casual, freely-given affection leaves you warm and gooey inside. He turns toward your vanity, where his black duffel bag rests on the small plastic saddle chair.

You watch his retreating figure for a few seconds—long enough for him to glance back over his shoulder, one brow lifted in lazy inquiry. And the look is so familiar; so painfully reminiscent of the one he gives you in-game, right after you’d deliver a ‘slap’ to his ass, that it knocks you a little off-kilter.

… Which might explain why you don’t react fast enough when his eyes flash with mischief, and he casually undoes the knot of his towel.

The fabric drops.

You catch a glimpse—more than a glimpse, hello—of the perkiest butt you’ve ever seen in your life, and you spin around so fast you slam your elbow into something undoubtedly solid in the process.

A half-pained, half-mortified wheeze escapes your throat.

"Careful," he calls out to you—and though amusement colors his voice, there's a real thread of worry beneath it, enough to make you want to slam your head against the counter for some inexplicable reason. "Don’t feel the need to grant me modesty on my behalf, kitten."

"Kitten’s about to kill herself," you lament with a whine.

It earns you an unimpressed scoff.

“I just got here, my love,” he deadpans without missing a beat. “Daddy’s gonna have to ask you to hold on a little longer.”

You choke on nothing but air. Critical system failure.

Buffering… buffering… buffering…

You inhale sharply.

"Okay, pause," you beg, a slightly hysterical edge to your tone as you claw your way back from a full-blown breakdown. In an attempt to divert the topic, “D’you–uh, do you want anything on your eggs? I’ve got ketchup, hot sauce... barbecue sauce..."

"A proper chef now, are you?" And oh, the next thing you know, he’s right behind you again. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your shirt.

He smells faintly like your body wash, like Dove nourishing coconut and your calendula shampoo, a heady mix of something sweet and herbal.

The thought of him—of the both of you—smelling the same, actually makes you feel giddy.

What a stupidly trivial, novel thing to find joy in.

Snap the fuck out of it, it’s just soap, you chide to yourself.

You don’t even notice you’re trembling until Sylus curls a large hand around yours; steadying the shaky fingers reaching for the bottle of Cholula on the condiment tray, while his other hand gently cradles your hurt elbow.

Your breath hitches when he presses a kiss to your temple.

"Oh, sweetie," he murmurs, and it’s the way he says it—low and unbearably fond—that loosens some of the tension on your shoulders. "You’ve wound yourself up."

"I'm good," you mumble, though your voice betrays you, thinner than you mean it to sound.

"It's just me," he says, his tone as gentle as the breeze slipping through the open window, ruffling the choppy bangs that frame your face. "Nothing so different from how it’s always been, hmm?"

And you know he’s right. It's just him. Just Sylus. Your Sylus. No different from the one from two years ago.

"I know," you sigh, finally turning to face him, having to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes.

His expression is softer now, the type of softness reserved solely for you, something that never fails to make you ache. The teasing is gone, tucked away for the time being.

"I just need a little time to wrap my head around this," you admit, voice quieter now. "Is that... is that okay?"

The greys of his eyes melt into something silvery, moonlit—impossibly tender.

In one smooth motion, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter and steps between your legs, closing what little space remains between you. You yelp in surprise, but before you can react, he’s already leaning in, stealing a kiss from your lips. Just a quick one, like he couldn’t help himself, like he needed a taste to hold him over. He chuckles when he sees your wide-eyed look.

"Of course, my love," he says, voice wrought with promise—in love with the way your lips part, bitten pink and unsure, as he lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. "We’ll go as slow as you want. Forever, if that’s what you need." Forever, as what you two have.

…

For over a year, you’ve learned how to enjoy the small things alone. And you did—enjoy it, you mean. Once, almost a lifetime ago, you took for granted the quiet joys of a slower life. But you learned to take it day by day. One hour at a time, minute after minute.

It made room for reflection, and it moulded you into something stronger, and softer, all at once.

But this—with him—brings you back to another time. A sweeter time; the dog-day summer of your life.

The morning hums with a kind of quiet normalcy you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re used to the sunlight spilling through the linen curtains, lining the floor with streaks of honey-gold, soft as a happy memory. Used to the noise of the outside world bleeding through the walls, a constant presence you’ve long since accepted as a permanent fixture in this tiny apartment, like a second heartbeat.

He’s right, in a way.

This isn’t so different from the mornings you once shared with the same man—back when he wore a different face and led an extraordinarily polarized life, completely at odds with yours. The ones spent laughing into a screen, your fingers ghosting across glass, desperate to grasp something you never could.

That life feels like it belonged to someone else now. Someone lonelier.

So, no. Maybe not quite the same – maybe not even close.

–

You finally allow yourself to give in; to sink into the warmth of him, folding yourself smaller in his embrace like a tired bird nestling into a safer sky, your heart fluttering wild and restless against your ribs. Too big for your body, too full to contain. Here – tangled together in this sliver of morning light – everything that has hurt you feels small in comparison. You were never alone to begin with. But with Sylus in your arms, the world feels brighter than you ever remembered it could be.

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira @writingmyladsdelusions @borkunlimited @magnoliaswriteatsunset

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x non mc reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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theywantedplayer · 4 months ago

Text

They call you drunk and confess

Trevor, Cole, Luke, Quinn

masterlist

prompt list (new ones)

Trevor

“Y/nnnnnn!” Trevor sang into the phone, his voice loud and unmistakably drunk.

You blinked at your screen, squinting in the dark. 1:00 a.m. on a Tuesday. Makes sense

“Hi, Trevor,” you muttered, voice thick with sleep. “How drunk are you—”

“BRO WHY the fuck are we not dating?” he blurted out, completely cutting you off.

You actually laughed at his forwardness

“Don’t laugh at me!” he whined. You could practically hear the pout on his face. “This is a genuine question.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Maybe because you call me bro all the time?”

“Yeah, romantically, obviously,” he huffed, as if you should have known that. “But, we would be so good together bro”

You laughed again but shot back, “Bro, you send me random insta real dashcam footage at ungodly hours of the morning, how was I supposed to know?”

“Okay, so it's weird when you call me bro, Y/N,” he said, like that was the real issue at hand. “And I send you those because they’re funny! You gotta read between the lines.”

“What lines, Trevor?!” you asked, fully awake now, still in disbelief.

“I dunno!” he admitted, then gasped. “BUT what I do knowwwwww,” he dragged out dramatically, “is that you haven’t denied anything I said.”

You bit your lip, smiling despite yourself. “I know I haven’t.”

“Sooooo we’re dating now, basically,” he concluded.

“Wait, how did we just jump from here to that?” you asked, laughing

“You like me, me like's you so, boom, we’re dating.” He said it so simply, like it was basic math.

“Trevor-”

“Nope, nope, it’s final! We’re dating. Y/N and I are dating!” he cheered “I’m gonna hang up before you can say anything else because we’re dating now, goodnight Y/N, bye-bye.”

And just like that, he hung up.

You stared at your phone, listening to the dead dial tone.

Did you just… get drunk-declared into a relationship?

Were you complaining, though?

Quinn

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Quinn said into the phone, his voice slightly unsteady.

“What’s up, Quinner?” you responded, putting him on speakerphone as you flipped through your notes, you had a midterm in three days, and you had been studying for hours on end while he and his teammates were doing drinks by the sound of hughes voice.

You heard him take a deep breath, hesitating.

“Quinn, is everything okay?” you asked, shifting your full attention to the phone.

“Yup,” he hiccupped. “Just a little drunk.”

You smiled. “Well, you deserve it. You guys won big tonight, congrats.”

“Yup,” he hiccupped again, then groaned. “But that’s hiccup not what I wanna talk abo—hiccup—about.” His voice was barely above a mumble, his words slurring together.

“Speak up, Quinn. I can barely hear you,” you teased.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, then groaned again. “God, I’m never drinking again.”

You chuckled softly. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“Nooo, no, I know you’re studying,” he argued. then, he blurted out, “God, Y/N, you work so hard. Like, so fucking hard.”

Your smile grew as you shrugged your shoulders. “I try.”

“Like, it’s a good thing I play hockey, cause I hated school. Uni was okay, though mostly just hockey and drinking.” He rambled, then suddenly sighed. “Fuck, anyways Y/N, I love you so much. You have no idea.”

“I wish you came out with us tonight after the game,” he continued, voice softer now. “You looked so good in my jersey, and my mom told me about the chirps you were yelling. Fuck, I wish I could’ve seen that. Would’ve been so hot.”

You laughed, he kept going.

“Just let me finish before you reject me, okay? Let’s be nice here,” he mumbled, and you could hear the small smile in his voice. “I wanna take you out so bad, Y/N. Please let me take you out.”

You bit your lip, heart swelling.

“Quinn,” you said gently, “I have to tell you something.”

“Nooooo,” he groaned. “Fuck, which asshole beat me to it?”

You laughed softly. “Quinn.”

“Mmhmm?”

“We’re already dating, sweetie. We have been for a while.”

There was silence on the other end.

Some guys might get reckless and cheat on their girlfriends when they’re drunk, but even when Quinn was blackout wasted, he was still confessing his love to you all over again. Even if he forgot he's already done that.

You heard him inhale sharply.

“Wait,” he muttered under his breath. “No way. When did I ask you?”

“About a year and a half ago,” you reminded him, grinning.

“And you said yes?”

“Yes, Quinn,” you giggled. “Without a second thought.”

Another beat of silence.

“Quinn—”

“I love you,” he interrupted softly. “Can you maybe come get me and take me home?”

You smiled as you stood up, already grabbing your keys. “Yes, Quinn. I’ll drive you home.”

A moment later, he mumbled, “Do we live together too?”

You chuckled. “We do.”

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered, like he had just won the lottery.

Cole

Your phone rang, you squinted at the screen, Cole Caulfield.

Made sense since he and the guys went out after their big win tonight. You sighed, already bracing yourself, before swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

For a solid five seconds, all you heard was chaos.

Cole yelling something, his teammates yelling back. Laughter. A very loud thunk, then More laughter.

“Cole?” you tried, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Do you need me to come get you?”

No response from him just more indistinct yelling in the background. You groaned, tossing your blanket off your legs and sitting on the edge of your bed.

Then, finally

“Yo, Y/N!” Cole’s voice rang out, overly excited, like a little kid. “You picked up!!”

You exhaled a laugh. “Yeah, do you need me to pick you up?”

“YES. Y/N, you should totally come out!!!” He sounded thrilled about this idea. Then, away from the phone, you heard him yell, “GUYS, Y/N’S COMING OUT!”

ok, so that's not what I said. Like at all. you thought

“Ooooo, your girlfriend’s coming!” one of them teased.

“FUCK YEAH, CAULFIELD!” another cheered. “YOU FINALLY TOLD HER?”

You froze, mid-brushing your hair. Told me what? you thought.

On the other end, Cole groaned. “Shut up,” he whined.

you couldn’t see the way he dramatically tilted his head back in frustration, hands at his sides.

“She doesn’t know.”

His teammates roared with laughter, one of them slapping him on the back.

“Ohhh, buddy,” someone chirped. “That’s tough.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you slipped on your shoes. This was gold.

Then, Cole’s voice came back, a little more serious.

“I gotta send her the address.”

What followed was a solid ten seconds of complete silence, except for his teammates snickering as Cole, very drunkenly, squinted at his phone, trying to focus on the screen.

“Holy fuck, look at this kid,” someone chirped, clearly watching him struggle.

“Shut up,” Cole muttered, still glaring at his phone like it had personally wronged him in a way.

Then, suddenly, horrifying realization.

Your name.

At the top of the screen.

Call in progress: 5 minutes, 12 seconds.

His eyes widened and His stomach dropped.

“…Y/N?” he asked, voice hesitant.

“Yes, Cole?” you answered sweetly, already backing out of your driveway.

“You’re… still on the here?” He asked practically wincing

“Yes, Cole.” You grinned. "I'm still here"

From the background, Slaf burst out laughing. “NO FUCKING WAY, SHE HEARD ALL THAT?!”

Cole just nodded numbly, still staring at his phone.

You, meanwhile, were having the time of your life.

“Made my night, honestly,” you teased. "Just wait till I tell you my thoughts, I know you'll like them"

The line went quiet for a second.

Then, Cole clearly regaining some confidence piped up.

“So you are coming out?” he asked hopefully.

You chuckled. “Only because I like you so much.”

On the other end, Cole silently fist-pumped the air, mouthing a victorious “YES”

but really you where taking his drunk ass home

Luke

Luke was drunk. Like, very drunk to drunk.

Jack had been feeding him shots all night, and now he was slumped over the bar table, long limbs sprawled out and completely invading his brother’s space, well, at the same time he called you on his phone.

You answered as soon as he finally managed to hit the call button.

“Hey, Lu.”

Luke groaned dramatically, head still against the table. “What are you doing?”

Jack, trying to enjoy his plate of nachos, shoved at Luke’s arm. “Dude, move. I’m trying to eat.”

Luke barely lifted his head, slurring, “Suck my dick, dude.”

Jack didn’t even hesitate. “That’s Y/N’s job, not mine.”

Luke shot upright so fast he nearly knocked his phone out of his own hand. His grip tightened around it like his life depended on it.

“SHHHHHH she’s on the phone, dude!!!” he whispered-yelled, completely panicked. “If she hears that, I’ll never get to make a move, then she'll never become my girlfriend so keep your mouth shut!"

Jack, deadpan, just stared at him.

Then, very slowly, his gaze shifted to something beside Luke.

Luke blinked, confused, before turning his head

And there you were. Standing right there.

Luke froze. His mouth fell slightly open, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Did he forget I was here?” you asked Jack.

Jack nodded immediately.

You grinned. “God, how many drinks did you give him?” you asked as you sat beside Luke

Jack smirked as he stood up. “I’m gonna go get this kid some food.” He slapped the table before walking off.

“Can you get me some nachos too?” you called after him.

Jack gave you a quick nod.

And then you turned your attention back to the Luke Hughes, who was suddenly the quietest person in the world.

You nudged his arm, smiling. “Why so quiet, huh? What were you and Jack talking about?” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully.

Luke shook his head, still staring at the table, muttering, “Dunno.”

You smirked. Bingo.

“Really?” you teased, leaning in a little closer. “Because I heard some great news…” You tilted your head. “Something about me having a chance to be a girlfriend?”

Luke immediately gave you side-eye, his drunk brain scrambling to process whether this was a setup or not.

“…Did I hear that right?” you pressed, grinning.

Luke squinted at you, trying so hard to read your expression but he was too drunk to even read the menu right now.

“Depends on your answer,” he finally said, still side eyeing you.

Your heart skipped a little, but you played it cool.

You glanced over at the bar, Jack was on his way back, somehow balancing three plates of nachos. Impressive, considering he couldn't even remember Luke’s jersey number half the time when he was drinking.

You turned back to Luke quickly, wanting to have his moment to yourself even if he was drunk off his ass and before your drinks kick in witch you could feel creeping up on you.

“I think you’re gonna like my answer, Luke.” You winked, giving his thigh a light pat.

Luke froze again.

His brain is going a mile a minute, and the alcohol not helping with that

Meanwhile, Jack plopped the nachos onto the counter, making a loud clattering noise as he did.

You grabbed your plate, then grabbed Luke’s and slid it in front of him, expecting him to immediately dig as he normally did. But he didn’t move.

You glanced over and that’s when you saw it.

The biggest, dopiest, cheesiest grin slapped across his face.

he couldn’t believe what you just said, or more hinted at.

You bit back a smile and shook your head, turning your focus back to your nachos.

But Luke? He just kept staring at you for a little longer, grinning like an idiot, before finally shaking his head, chuckling to himself, and happily digging into his nachos.

Yeah. He definitely liked your answer even though you only hinted at it

#nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield x reader #cole caulfield #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader

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ryusuisloveinterest · 6 months ago

Note

Dr. Stone headcanons of the Wise Generals' sleeping habits? Pretty please🥺

hello 🦕 anon! So sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoy the little headcanons! Just imagining this was so cute to me so I really hope you enjoy!🫶

5 wise generals sleeping habits 💤💞

Senku:

I think Senku would actually have a pretty good sleep schedule

He needs the right amount of sleep to use his brain to the fullest

As for sleeping in general he’s a side sleeper

He hates laying on his back and hate laying on his stomach

He’s not a cuddler AT FIRST

But as time goes on he gets a bit more clingy

First it’s just hand holding

Then it was intertwined legs

But one night he woke up and you weren’t there

He walks around the hut (if it’s the Stone Age) or the house (if it’s modern or 4d science) looking for you

He kinda gets nervous until he sees you coming out of the bathroom

He chuckles as you follow him

As soon as you both lay in bed he locks you with his arms and legs and you’ve both slept like that ever since

Chrome:

Chrome tries to have a good schedule, but his mind just wakes him up in the middle of the, curious about many things he’s yet to learn

You’ll often find him messing with his rocks or just sitting up and looking outside

“Oh I’m sorry did I wake you? I just couldn’t sleep.”

A lot of times you’ll just sit with him and let him ramble or you slowly drag him back to bed

There are some nights where you’ll fall asleep while you guys are talking and either you’ll wake up in the same spot you fell asleep in or you “magically” end up back in your bed

The few times Chrome doesn’t wake up he’s a heavy HEAVY sleeper

I’m talking like the world could literally be ending and he’s still somehow asleep

He’s an everywhere sleeper. As in his body is all over the place when he’s asleep

You two will start off cuddling but by the end of the night Chrome’s horizontal to the bed with his waist all twisted up and his arms all over the place

You might even accidentally get punched or kicked once or twice💀

Gen:

Gen can just magically falls asleep

He doesn’t even show signs of being tired he’ll just be like, “goodnight y/n” and then knock out

He doesn’t really have a sleep schedule but always gets his 8 hours or more

Like some nights he goes to bed at 8 but then wakes up at 7 or he goes to bed at midnight and wakes up at 11 in the morning

I say he’s either a normal side sleeper or he sleeps in the fetal position

Sometimes he’s cuddly and other times he’s not

He’s either all up on you, just holding your hand, or just close

Ukyo:

I think Ukyo would still kinda have his military sleep schedule engraved in him somehow

From what very little I know about the military there’s the same rise and shine and nighty nighty all the time so expect Ukyo to have the same schedule every single day

I think he’s a light sleeper so try your best not to toss and turn

He likes to sleep on his side or on his back

His breathing is very light so it literally sounds like he’s dead some nights

It’s genuinely concerning

He loves cuddling, unless you move around a lot, then it’s harder for him to sleep

Massage his head and he’s out

He’s honestly like a cat, just so satisfied when you rub his head

Ryusui:

What’s a sleep schedule 😀

He either goes to bed at a reasonable time or is just up for days straight with little naps here and there

“My desire doesn’t sleep! So why should I?”

I swear

You have to pull him to bed

When he FINALLY lays down, he’s all over you

Like you like your personal space, but he LOVES it

He’ll either be holding you, or you’re on top of him, or he’s on top of you, or some other weird position

I hope your body’s normally cold cause his body runs extremely hot, so if you run cold then it’s more bearable

Has the cutest little snore

I wouldn’t even consider it that it’s just a little squeak he kinda makes when sleeping

Sometimes he sleeps the whole night, other times he wakes up and starts doing something

If you choose to stay up with him because he would never make you he’ll share his thoughts and desires with you

But if you stay asleep you’ll feel a light kiss on your head and hear a small “I love you” before he’s off doing who knows what

#dr stone #dcst #dr stone headcanons #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #senku ishigami #chrome dr stone #chrome x reader #gen asagiri #gen asagiri x reader #ukyo saionji #ukyo saionji x reader #ryusui nanami x reader #ryusui nanami headcanons #ryusui nanami

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frogbogus · 1 month ago

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‎‧₊˚✧[ LOVE AND DEEPSPACE ]✧˚₊‧

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What would happen if you told him to sleep on the couch?

Inspired by this chat conversation I received from Xavier:

tags: sprinkle of fluff, wallop of angst. what is lads without ansgt?

little note: they will be a bit long, sorry about that. i just write what i think in the moment and before i know it i’ve written a whole essay.. haha.

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XAVIER

You and Xavier have been playing Kitty Cards for over an hour now, you’re way too competitive to let it up. He has yet to lose and, to be frank, you’re on your last straw.

The fact that he’s so calm and nonchalant about it grinds you gears even more, he’s over there looking perfect, as usual, and you’re over here about to start gripping your hair out.

‘’How are you getting all the good assist cards!? I’m not playing this anymore.’’ You say with a loud huff, crossing your arms and standing up to go elsewhere. You know you’re being childish, but you can’t help it.

You hear a slight snicker and your head has whipped straight to him to glare daggers into his eyes. He puts his hands up in feigned innocence, ‘’Don’t hate player…. hate the game.’’ He says with a sheepish smile.

You point at him, and then to the couch, ‘’You’re sleeping there tonight.’’ He looks to you, then to the couch, then back to you again. Processing what you’ve just stated. His eyes starting to lack the usual twinkle, his mouth adorning a slight pout. ‘’You’re.. serious?’’

With that, you say nothing and turn away to head to bed closing the door behind you. You glue your head to the door, listening for any movement, because deep down you weren’t actually serious. You’d hate to not have him beside you.

You stop your eaves dropping since you hear a loud exasperated sigh leave his mouth as he plops himself onto the couch for the night. You’re still standing at the door, already deciding to give up your silly antics.

Before you even decide to open the door to drag him back to bed with you, there’s a faint knock. Then the door opens slightly, he slithers his hand through the crack and you see him holding a Meow This card.

‘’You have been denied.’’ Xavier says, you can hear the smile on his face as he whispers. You can’t stop the giggle coming out of your mouth as you swing open the door and embrace him in a warm hug. He gladly wraps his arms around you and swoops you up, wrapping your thighs around his waist to carry you to the bed.

You’re still giggling as you both now lay on the bed, embracing one another. You let out a satisfied hum as he strokes your hair gently.

‘’No more Kitty Cards for at least a week.’’ He states as he snuggles into you even more. ‘’No. I want to play it tomorrow. As long as you keep dozing off mid game, I will use my amazing tactics.’’ You say proudly.

‘’By ‘amazing tactics’ do you mean, cheating?’’ He chuckles and you find yourself falling asleep with a smile on your face.

ZAYNE

Zayne has been way too busy at work to spend time with you. You miss him so much, but it seems the only time you get to be in his presence is when you have your own doctor appointments. Even then, he’s still too serious. He lacks the loving look in his eyes, the warmth. You don’t know how much longer you can go on like this, he’s right there in front of you yet so far out of reach.

It’s nearly midnight and you hear your front door open as you lay in bed defeated. His footsteps are light as he treads through your apartment, before they finally reach your room and he enters. You’re facing away from the door and you hear him rustling around as he takes off his jackets and presumably changes into comfy clothes, getting ready for bed. There’s a slight dip in the mattress as he leans over to place a kiss on the top of your head, you could nearly tear up at the action. This. This is what you’ve been missing.

‘’Goodnight.’’ His voice but a mere whisper as to not ‘wake you’. You turn around then to face him, a slight look of surprise in his face as he takes in your solemn look. ‘’Zayne… why does it feel like you’ve been pushing me away? Again.’’

His face remains stoic as you look into his eyes, searching for something. Anything. He looks down to his hands, thinking for a moment. ‘’I’m…sorry.’’ Is all he can seem to say.

‘’You’re sorry?’’ You let out a laugh in frustration, ‘’It just feels like you’re treating me as one of your patients sometimes. I’m your damned girlfriend. Or is that not enough for you? Zayne I…’’ You sigh, your vision blurring as tears start to fill your eyes, ‘’I love you. I love you so much. I know you love me, so why can’t you show it?’’

You see his hand start to fidget as he takes in your words, his mouth opens slightly, to then close once more. Does he really have nothing to say?

‘’For tonight… please can you sleep on the couch? Just for tonight. I need some time to think.’’ You say sadly, and he obliges. ‘’Yes. Of course.’’ His voice sounds strained as he gets up and walks to the door. He pauses, his hand lingering on the door handle. You stare at him in anticipation.

He’s still facing away from you, but you see his shoulders rise as he takes deep breathes. ‘’I can’t bare… to be away from you.’’ His voice wavering as he speaks. ‘’Then why are you shutting me out? I’m right here.’’ He turns to face you then, gone is the blank expression on his face, his eyes are full of sadness, his eyebrows furrowed.

There’s a pang of pain in your heart as you look at him. You can’t control yourself as you open your arms to him. He is back on the bed with in an instant, embracing you, latching onto you as if you could disappear within seconds. You feel his hands tremble as he holds you, almost as if he’s scared. Scared of his own touch. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and you rake a hand through his hair, providing him comfort.

‘’I’ll do better. I promise that to you now. You mean the world to me.’’ He whispers into your neck and you smile as a tear falls down your check, you exhale, feeling a weight being lifted of your shoulders. You pull away from him to make him look at you, his eyes are wide, reminding you of a lost puppy. You plant a soft kiss on his forehead, ‘’I know you will.’’

RAFAYEL

You’re walking back to Rafayel’s house, your arms crossed. He’s right behind you, trying to keep up with your fast strides. ‘’Cutie, can you slow down? My legs can only go so fast.’’ You ignore his pleas and out of spite, start walking even faster.

Moments earlier you were both in the arcade, and Rafayel INSISTED that he would be able to catch a plushie for you. You let him have his way, finding it endearing at first. He kept failing, and you would kindly ask him if you could have the next turn. Of course, being as stubborn as he is and 100% sure he would be able to catch at least one plushie he denied every single time. He even had the audacity to add even more coins to try again, when he knows you only bought a certain amount so you would be able to play the other games the arcade had to offer.

You walk into his house with a loud sigh, the sun has already set. You were there for hours. He’s still following closely behind you, and you come to an abrupt halt resulting in him slamming into the back of you with a loud huff.

You whip your head around to look at him, your eyes full of annoyance. ‘’You,’’ You jab a finger into the top of his right shoulder, ‘’are sleeping on the couch.’’ He clutches your finger with his hands, looking up at you with desperate eyes.

‘’No.. you can’t do this to me.’’ He pleads dramatically as you snatch your finger away from him and head to his bedroom, shutting the door with more force than you hoped.

Thirty minutes has passed, you’re lounging on Rafayel’s bed, the annoyance is still festering inside you but slowly dispersing as the clock goes by. In the silence, you hear a loud thud. You’re up and alert immediately and already walking towards the source of the sound. To your utmost shock, Rafayel is lying on the floor by the couch, lifeless. You rush over to him and crouch down, but before you could even blink he’s got a hold of you, pulling you down on top of him with a cheeky smirk on his face. ‘’Gotcha.’’ He says proudly.

You flail around in his arms, giggling as he tickles you. ‘’S-stop!’’ You squeal between every inhale. He’s just laughing as he continues his attack on you. Eventually he stops and he somehow manages to hoist you both up off the floor, and you’re now latched onto him, his hands firmly cupped around your thighs.

‘’Please… let me back in the bed. My neck hurts. My back hurts. Do you not care about my well being?’’ You roll your eyes and poke his cheek with your finger, ‘’Don’t be ridiculous. The couch is comfy. You would’ve survived the night.’’

He huffs as he makes his way back to his bedroom, ‘’Yeah. But you weren’t there. Couch with you? Yes. Couch without you? Big no.’’ He kicks open the door with his foot and drops you onto the bed, ‘’Hey! What about my well being? You’re manhandling me like I’m a bag of potatoes.’’ You frown and shoot laser beams at him as slowly crawls on-top of you, caging you between his arms, smiling fondly. ‘’I don’t usually eat potatoes… but heres to new experiences.’’ You look up at him, puzzled, before the innuendo finally clicks in your brain.

SYLUS

‘’Sylus.. I told you. I don’t need you to act on a whim just because someone has treated me badly. I can handle it.’’ You exclaim, as his red eyes bore into yours, a furrow in his brows. He looks down to his feet, seeming on edge as he conjures up a response, ‘’Nobody can treat you like that. Not in front of me. Not ever.’’

Your words must of gone straight through one ear and out of the other. He doesn’t get it. You like to pick your own fights, you’re strong enough to handle it. He’s always there to fight for you, but not fight with you. That’s all you want. To be able to do it together; as one.

‘’You’re just not understanding me Sylus. I need.. I need space. Can you sleep on the couch tonight. Please?’’ With that his eyes snap to yours with a curious look, his head tilting slightly. He reaches his hand to his head, tapping it, as if in deep thought.

‘’Kitten, I understand completely. You seem to be the one misunderstanding.’’ He stalks towards you slowly, ‘’Trust me, I know just how well you can handle it. I’ve seen it for myself.’’ He’s in-front of you now, his body completely engulfing yours. His hand comes to tuck your hair behind your ear gently, and you find yourself subconsciously leaning into his touch. ‘’God forbid I want to protect what’s mine.’’ You pull away and Sylus’ hand still remains hovering near your cheek, he stares at his hand for a moment and a flicker of hurt flashes in his eyes as at the slight rejection.

‘’If you’re trying to win me over with charm…. it’s working.’’ You mumble and cross your hands over your chest. A low, deep chuckle emits from him then as he happily cups your face with both hands, ‘’Adorable.’’ He whispers and leans in to meet your lips with a soft kiss.

CALEB

You’re sitting on Caleb’s couch waiting for him to get home, you’re a bundle of nerves as you nibble on your nails. Caleb was supposed to be home hours ago, it’s long into the early morning now. You’re worried sick.

Finally the click of the door snaps you out of your thoughts and you’re rushing to the door to Caleb entering, a pained expression on his face. But as soon as he sees you he’s smiling, ‘’Hey pips, you’re still awake?’’ He says softly. He does a once over of you, sensing something, a weird tension in the room. ‘’Are you okay?’’ He asks as he holds your arms, checking for something amiss.

‘’I should be asking you that Caleb. You’re hurt. Again.’’ You snatch your hands from him, folding your arms. ‘’Were you even going to tell me? Or just hide it as you usually do?’’ He walks further into the room slowly, and you can see the clear pain in him. His whole body is tense, he finally makes it to the couch before lifting his eyes to yours, face etched with sorrow. ‘’I’m fine. I just.. I don’t want to worry you.’’

You crouch infront of him, ‘’Well you’re always making me worry a whole lot, Caleb. You don’t have to act strong in-front of me. I’m here to be your anchor, and you be mine.’’ He looks away from you, afraid to truly see what you’re thinking in your eyes. ‘’Are you going to say something?’’ He stays silent, his knee bouncing ever so slightly, nobody else would even notice it. But you do.

You get up with a sigh, ‘’Fine. Sleep on the couch. Do whatever, because clearly you don’t care enough about what I have to say.’’ He grabs your wrist with haste, pulling you to sit on his lap. He hides his face in the curve of your neck and inhales your scent, all the tension seems to leave his body with every intake. ‘’Caleb…’’ You speak in a hushed tone as you hold onto him tighter. ‘’You’re in pain, I don’t want to hurt you. Let me go.’’ With that he shakes his head, holding you even closer.

‘’I’m sorry… I just. I just want to be the one who can always protect you. I want you to be able to always rely on me.’’ He murmurs through trembling lips, his voice breaking slightly. You gently lift his chin, guiding his gaze to yours. ‘’I want to be able to protect you too, can’t you let me do that?’’ Your thumb lingers against his bottom lip. He nods with a quiet, aching kind of yes as you lean in to brush a tender kiss against his lips.

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hihi! i hope you enjoyed reading these little short.. stories(?) idk. anyway. i’d love if people sent me requests, like little ideas of what you’d like to see from the lads guys or me. i’d love to write them for you.

#love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads caleb #lads x reader #zayne x you #sylus x you #xavier x you #rafayel x you #caleb x you #lads x you

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?”

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.”

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.”

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out.

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.”

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up.

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door.

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up.

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?”

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment.

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own.

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around.

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him.

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.”

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first.

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction.

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?”

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship.

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.”

“Really?”

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words.

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks.

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips.

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?”

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue.

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear.

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again.

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.”

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!”

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared.

“Night.”

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

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wordsofwhimsy · 3 months ago

Text

【Ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅｓ　

Ａｔｔｒａｃｔ】 - Part Twelve

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, romance, Mark starts to get a liittle unhinged tho – an early warning sign, mayhaps?

Word Count: 2,588

Chapter Synopsis: Mark glows in the aftermath of your first kiss, and Emily struggles to deal with the annoyingness that quickly became y’alls relationship.

Part Eleven

Mark was smug, even as you fell asleep.

At some point—maybe twenty minutes after your last breathless kiss, maybe two hours, he had no concept of time—you’d drifted off, curled against him, heart finally quiet. Mark lay there, absolutely still, smirking up at the ceiling like the MVP of the universe. King of your dorm room. Sultan of your heart. Kyle could eat shit. He had one arm wrapped around your back, the other resting behind his head as he basked in the kind of peace that could only be earned by winning the game, getting the girl, and ruining a rival’s whole bloodline—all in a single night.

Your breath was warm against his collarbone. The weight of you on his chest—tangled in the blanket, still wearing that oversized hoodie—made his entire body feel still. Not grounded, not chained. Held.

He could’ve stayed like that forever.

But of course, forever doesn’t exist, and eventually the door creaked open. Mark blinked once, then turned his head slowly—because he knew. Of course he knew it was your damn roommate.

Emily froze halfway into the room, holding a giant water bottle, a half-eaten granola bar, and the unmistakable look of someone who'd just walked in on the third act of a coming-of-age movie.

“…Oh my god,” she whispered, eyes wide.

Mark gave her a look. “Do you ever knock?”

Emily blinked, then scoffed like he was the one being dramatic. “Knock? Bro, I live here.”

She took exactly three steps into the room before freezing again, eyes darting between you and Mark, the fairy lights, the blanket, the sheer level of post-makeout emotional devastation happening in real time.

“Also? Gross. And weirdly adorable. I feel like I just walked into a Taylor Swift lyric.”

“Who the hell is Taylor Swift?”

Emily gasped like he’d slapped her. “You did not just say that.”

He turned his head slowly, one brow raised, completely unfazed. “You’re ruining my moment right now.”

“Your—”

Mark turned on his side with zero hesitation, giving her his entire back like she was the credits screen of a movie he’d already seen twice. One arm tugged you tighter into his chest like a very warm, very smug vice grip.

“Shhh,” he said, deadpan. “It’s bedtime.”

Emily stood there, scandalized.

“Are you—are you actually fake-sleeping me right now?!”

Mark didn’t respond. Just buried his face in your hair like she no longer existed. You stirred a little in his arms, a small sound escaping your throat—barely awake, just enough to wrinkle your nose and shift your weight. Mark instinctively softened, pulling you closer with one hand while the other moved gently to your head, stroking your hair with the care of someone handling glass.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured, voice low and warm. Then, a featherlight kiss to your forehead.

Emily stared like she was witnessing the emotional equivalent of a solar eclipse. “Okay. Yeah. I’m not sleeping in here tonight,” she groaned, turning on her heel and heading straight back for the door.

Mark raised one hand—still not facing her—and gave a lazy little wave. “Goodnight, Emily.”

Emily flipped him off and closed the door behind her.

There was only a minute of silence before he heard it. A tiny, unmistakable fluttering noise. Followed by… a chirp?

He sighed, then slowly turned his head once again—just in time to see something the size of a soda can launch itself off the bookshelf, wings flapping awkwardly as it dive-bombed the bed and landed squarely on his hip with a triumphant fwump.

“Oh, lord. This fuckin' thing…”

Pesto, now perched proudly on Mark’s hip like he owned the place, gave him a look—cocked head, narrow eyes, like yeah, what about it?

Mark let out a groan. “What is your deal? Every time we’re alone, you’ve got to make a dramatic entrance?”

Pesto flicked his tail, not even bothering to respond. He just puffed out his tiny chest like the badass he believed himself to be.

“Uh-huh,” Mark said, clearly done with this. “You're lucky she likes you, or I’d toss you across the room right now.”

Pesto gave him the most judgmental look possible, then gingerly nipped at the fabric of Mark’s suit. Like he was trying to claim ownership over it.

Mark’s eyebrow twitched. “Un-fucking-believable…”

—

Mark woke with a jolt in the middle of the night, the faint glow of the fairy lights still softly illuminating the room. His chest tightened the second he noticed the empty space next to him.

What the hell?

His heart started to pound as he sat up, eyes frantically scanning the room, half-convinced something terrible had happened. He reached across the bed, his hand searching for you, but the spot was cold. The covers were barely disturbed. His mind started to race.

What the hell?

The panic hit like a tidal wave. He bolted upright, ready to tear through the door and search every damn room, every floor, every inch of the dorms. His brain was working in overdrive—he could feel the fury of an all-too-familiar protective instinct bubbling up, the kind that had saved (and destroyed) cities and lives. But this? This was different.

It wasn’t about saving you from danger—it was about not knowing where the hell you’d gone.

He pushed himself off the bed, bolting for the door, ready to kick down the halls if he had to, but—

The door creaked open, and there you were, looking like a half-dazed sleepwalker, freshly out of the shared bathroom with your hoodie on backwards and your messy hair even more tangled than usual.

Mark froze, blinking a few times to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. His heart was still hammering in his chest, but seeing you—half-asleep, stumbling into the room like you didn’t just nearly make him tear apart the entire building—made him pause for a moment.

“...You’re okay?” he asked, his voice still tight with the remnants of his panic. His hand instinctively reached for you, pulling you gently back toward the bed.

You yawned, rubbing your eyes. “What? I just went to the bathroom….”

Mark let out a sigh of relief so deep, he practically deflated. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, pressing his hand to his forehead. “You can’t just disappear like that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You blinked up at him, clearly not fully awake, and groaned in that sweet, annoyed way you did when he acted a little too dramatic. “It’s not that serious, Mark.”

But Mark was already pulling you back into the bed, wrapping his arms around you tighter this time, as if to make sure you weren’t going anywhere.

“Next time,” he mumbled, already drifting back to sleep, “tell me when you’re leaving. Save this place some devastation…”

You chuckled, curling into his side as you finally settled. “I’m not a prisoner, you know.”

“Not yet,” he muttered, a little grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “But I’ll make sure I keep an eye on you, just in case.”

You were asleep again within minutes. Mark wasn’t.

He stared up at the ceiling, arm curled around you, your breath slow and steady against his chest. You didn’t even know what you’d done to him. One minute you were yawning in his hoodie like a sleepy little gremlin, and the next—boom. Full-blown existential spiral.

He hadn’t realized how deep it was until you disappeared. Just for a minute. Not even long enough for your side of the bed to cool. But it had felt like someone knocked the wind out of him with a crowbar.

He’d nearly gone full Viltrumite over a bathroom trip.

Mark closed his eyes and let out a slow breath through his nose, jaw tightening. Pathetic. That’s what it was. He wasn’t supposed to feel this... raw. This tangled. How the hell did this happen? How did it get to a point where your mere absence felt like a punch to the ribs. He wasn’t built for this. He knew that.

And yet.

Here you were, the literal definition of peaceful, drooling slightly on his chest, while he spiraled like a goddamn teenager. It was humiliating.

He ran his fingers absently through your hair, brushing a few strands out of your face. The glow from the fairy lights was soft, gold-pink across your skin. You looked like something out of a dream. His. Just his.

Mark wasn’t good at this. At having things. The universe had a funny way of taking everything he cared about and turning it into ash. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that this—you—would be any different.

But that didn’t stop him from holding you tighter anyway.

Just in case.

There was a soft chirp from the corner. Mark didn’t even look.

“No,” he said flatly. “Do not jump back on the bed.”

A flutter of wings.

“Pesto. I swear to god.”

Another flutter. Then silence. Then the softest little plop as something very small and very smug landed on Mark’s shoulder.

He sighed, but didn’t say anything. Pesto gave a soft warble and curled up right there, like a self-satisfied cat.

Mark didn’t bother fighting it. He just let his head fall against the pillow, one arm full of you, one shoulder full of nuisance, and a thousand thoughts clawing at his brain.

But it was fine. You were here. For now. And that was enough.

He could lose his mind about it later.

—

You didn’t mean to start living in each other’s pockets.

It just kind of happened.

One minute Mark was spending the night “just this once,” and the next he had a toothbrush in your mug, half his suit shoved under your bed, and a habit of looking at anyone who got within a five-foot radius of you like they were trespassing on government property.

It wasn’t weird, exactly. Not to you at least. It wasn’t even something you noticed.

He walked you to class (every class), texted you at lunch (even when you’d just got up to use the restroom), and kissed the back of your hand like some kind of war-scarred gentleman every time he left the room.

It was sweet. Intense, but sweet.

Emily, however, looked like she was two days away from submitting a missing persons report on your autonomy.

“You do realize he’s stalking you with affection, right?” she said one morning, peering over her cereal at you.

“What? No, he’s just—he’s being nice.”

“He walked you to the bathroom.”

“I forgot my ChapStick!”

“He waited outside the door.”

“So I wouldn’t get lonely?”

Emily just stared at you, stunned into silence by the sheer force of your delusion. “That’s not normal,” she said slowly. “That’s Disney-villain-with-a-redemption-arc behavior.”

You shrugged, entirely unbothered. “It’s cute.”

Emily dropped her spoon. “It’s unhinged.”

But when Mark showed up ten minutes later, still zipping up his suit top as he climbed in through the window, eyes scanning the room like he’d physically short-circuit if he didn’t see you immediately—

You smiled. Lit up like a sunbeam. He melted. Emily fake gagged into her cereal.

The weird part wasn’t that Mark was suddenly always around. It was that it didn’t feel weird.

He hadn’t left your side since That Night™—as if someone hit a switch labeled “You’re Mine Now” in his brain and forgot to turn it off.

And honestly? You didn’t mind.

He walked you to class like a security escort, sat behind you in lectures like a bodyguard, and waited outside your dorm room any time Emily kicked him out for more than ten minutes.

It wasn’t weird to you at all. Although, when you thought about it, you weren’t sure how he was allowed to always be there. I mean, he wasn’t even a student at your college...

At first you figured maybe he’d made a friend on the security team. Or maybe he had a cousin on the registrar board who owed him a favor.

But then you saw it. The lanyard. Hanging around his neck like he was a legit student. Photo ID. Barcode. University seal.

Except instead of a major, it said: "Mark. Just Mark. Authorized Presence."

You stared. “What the hell is ‘Authorized Presence’?”

“It’s official.”

“That doesn’t answer anything.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t have time for the paperwork.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mark… what did you do?”

He smiled, boyish and unbothered. “Nothing illegal.”

“Mark—”

“Okay, technically illegal, but the guy I talked to said it was fine after he stopped screaming.”

You dropped your face into your hands. “You threatened someone, didn’t you.”

Mark leaned in, nosing at your temple affectionately. “I prefer ‘strongly encouraged.’”

Emily found the ID later and had to sit down. “Oh my god. Did you let a man with no legal ties to this school infiltrate academia because he makes out with you?”

You blinked. “...Yeah?”

Emily wheezed. “I’m going to jail by association.”

In class, he didn’t take notes. He didn’t have a backpack. He had zero academic interest in anything the professor was saying. He just sat in the back row, long legs kicked out, arms folded, watching you like you were the only thing worth learning.

You looked back at him once and mouthed, Go home.

He mouthed back; I am home.

Emily saw the whole thing and nearly defected to another friend group.

You’d wake up with him wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. You’d fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat under your cheek. He kissed your forehead so often it was starting to feel like punctuation.

It was a little much. Butalso… kind of everything.

Emily, meanwhile, was suffering.

“I’m staging an intervention,” she said one afternoon, poking her head around the corner to find Mark curled up on your bed, scrolling on his phone with one arm lazily draped over your waist. “You’re gonna forget how to function without him. You’ll walk out of here and just fall over.”

Mark didn’t even look up. “She functions fine. I carry the heavy stuff.”

“You carried her backpack to every class today,” Emily deadpanned.

“She looked tired.”

“It had a notebook and a pen in it.”

Mark didn’t even blink. Instead, he turned toward you, took your wrist gently in his hand and lifted it up between you like he was presenting fragile treasure. His fingers cradled yours so delicately, it looked ridiculous—like he was about to lay a crown jewel on a velvet pillow.

“She has small, delicate wrists,” he said, with absolute sincerity. “She shouldn’t be straining herself.”

You opened your mouth. “Okay, first of all—”

Mark brought your wrist to his lips and kissed it. Soft. Thoughtful. Like you were made of spun sugar and he was making a silent vow to never let the world bruise you. You lost your words and instead just smiled sweetly at him.

Emily made a noise like she was choking on her own soul. “You’re both insane. You’re gonna get married and name your kids after war crimes.”

Mark grinned against your skin. “Dibs on Napalm.”

You snorted.

Emily threw a pillow at him. “GET OUT.”

———————

Part Thirteen

———————

#invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #mohawk mark x reader #variant mark x reader

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zombiefiilm · 1 year ago

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Fell in Love

spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: you hadn't expected your friend spencer to be home from his most recent case yet, let alone passed out on your couch

warnings: confessions, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n

word count: 1.5k

The moment the key hit the lock of your front door, you practically felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You had been working all day and there was nothing you wanted more than to change into your pyjamas and watch tv for the rest of the night.

Once inside your apartment, you shut the door, instantly dropping your bag to the floor and your keys onto the table. Your shoes were kicked off and your jacket was strewn across a random chair in a matter of seconds and you were ready to run into your bedroom.

But, as you passed by the living room, you caught a glimpse of someone sleeping on your couch, shoes and coat still on.

Really, you should have been a bit more startled by the sight of someone in your home, considering you lived alone, but you were all too familiar with Spencer's habit of dropping by unannounced.

You stopped in your tracks, walking around to the front of the couch and called his name.

"Spencer" you were met with an annoyed groan as he flipped onto his other side.

"Spencer" you called again, louder, shoving his shoulder slightly. No response.

"Dr. Spencer Reid" you practically yelled right into his ear and you watched him jump this time, turning to face you again.

"I gave you a key for emergencies" you scolded, watching as he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry" he sounded overly sincere "I didn't want to go home."

Then you realised that this wasn't just his regular habit of dropping in whenever he was bored, he needed comfort. You knew all to well the toll his job took on him, with everything that’s happened to him you were surprised he was able to hold up as well as he did.

“Oh Spencer” you half-whispered, sitting down on the couch right beside him, shoulder practically pressed against his. “Do you wanna talk about it?”.

“Not really, I just need to get my mind off everything” he sat up a bit straighter, facing you now.

You nodded in response.

“Is that new?” his gaze was suddenly fixated on your wrist as he reached down to your new watch.

“It is” you told him, lifting up your arm to show off the item adorned with a silver band.

“Did you get it in a pawn shop?” he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at distracting himself now, taking interest in random things like he always did.

“How did you know?” you laughed slightly, bringing your arm back down to your side.

“It’s Cartier” he explained “I know you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one, they range from four thousand to hundreds of thousands of dollars”.

“Wow” you feigned offence.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just know you wouldn’t spend that kind of money, even when you treat yourself” he almost panickingly explained himself but you still felt a little proud at him knowing things about you. You hated spending a lot of money on yourself and you wanted to treat yourself, hence the new item in your collection.

“Did you know that Cartier was the first healer to use platinum in jewellery making? And they popularised the wristwatch in 1904, it’s really quite interesting”

“I didn’t, Reid” you joked. “Do you want some food? I got groceries yesterday so I could make you anything you want”.

“I’m okay” he sighed slightly “I’m just tired”

“You can sleep in my bed, no reason you should be hurting your back on the couch"

"No its okay, I don't want to put you out. I'm fine out here, really."

"I'm not going planning on going to bed for a while, at least go in there and get some rest, okay?"

He simply nodded his head and got up to go to your bedroom, calling out a goodnight as he approached the door.

You spent a few hours lounging about, mindlessly watching Friends reruns to procrastinate anything that actually needed to be done. Eventually though, the tiredness caught up to you and you decided to camp out on the couch for the night.

You cracked open your bedroom door and the small amount of light that flooded in from the hall presented Spencer completely out of it in your bed, his white shirt half unbuttoned and his trousers twisted around him while the rest of his clothes were piled on the floor beside him.

You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a spare pillow and blanket from your wardrobe, preparing to set yourself up on the couch for the night.

As you went to leave the room once again, you heard him sleepily call your name.

"Yeah?" you turned around to him again, seeing him adjust himself slightly.

“Do you want the your bed back?” He began to sit up, the rustling sound of the duvet filling the air.

“You can stay there, don’t worry about it” there was a silence then, you could tell he was about to say something, but he was struggling to get it to slip past his lips.

"Could you stay with me, please" he looked away bashfully "just for a bit”. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was giving you a puppy-dog look, eyes wide and lip practically quivering.

“Of course” you dumped everything that was in your hands onto the end of the bed and crawled up beside Spencer.

Without another word, you pressed yourself up right against him, grabbing his hand with yours and smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand. Just the few moments of silence with you sitting there had done Spencer some good, he had already felt himself calming down, and some of his recent anxieties melting away.

The quiet didn’t last long though before Spencer was saying your name again. “Can I tell you something?”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark so you could see all of his emotions bleeding through his expressions. You nodded your head, humming slightly to urge him on.

“I really appreciate you, a lot” he hesitated slightly, searching for the words to use next.

“I appreciate you too Spence” you requited.

“No, I’m thankful for everything you do. You have always been there when I need you, you always know exactly what to say to me, you care about me. And I truly hope you can say the same about me”

“Of course I can”

“I need you in my life more than you could ever know” he continued “you’re the most important person to me in the whole world, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You looked at him, almost flabbergasted, not knowing what to say that would truly encapsulate how much you cared about him, how happy you were that he appreciated you.

“I like you” he paused “I love you, so much” his words were powerful, they rung in the air as they travelled towards your ears.

“Love?” you repeated, questioning his use of the word. You were no stranger to platonic love but his previous confessions had you questioning the intention of his last sentence.

“I love you, I want to be able to call you mine. I want to come home to you every day, to spend every minute I can with you, to have a future where you’re the centre of all my plans.”

You were practically stumped, the emotions you were feeling rendering your mouth useless.

“If you don’t feel the same way-“ he suddenly became incredibly panicked, spitting out as many words as he could to explain himself before you could cut him off.

“Spencer” you took a deep breathe “I love you too” it was a much shorter confession than his, but you didn’t need to say anything more to him, the confirmation was all he needed.

In the time it took you to blink, your faces were centimetres apart. And then his lips were on yours.

Your body felt like it lit up on that moment, the feeling of his lips on yours waking the butterflies in your stomach. You wasted no time tangling your fingers into his hair and lightly tugging at the roots as his hands slid around your waist, softly massaging your flesh.

It was gentle, his tongue softly slipping into your mouth as you let him do what he wanted, let him take the control.

The kiss was short though, as sleep had began to take over both of you. You mutually pulled away, silently agreeing to lie down, cuddling into one another.

With one more peck on the lips, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

There was plenty of time to talk it out, to figure out everything between each other, but for now all you needed was the feeling of one another pressed together and the feeling of mutual admiration.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencerreid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic

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yaminerua · 5 months ago

Text

Kirsty: What are you doing out here? Have you been thinking again?

Jamie: Yes…

Kirsty: Who are you thinking about?

Jamie: “Who”?

Kirsty: The Doctor?

Jamie: How did you know?

Kirsty: … … Do you miss him?

Jamie: Why do you say that?

Kirsty: You dream about him a lot

Jamie: It doesn’t make any sense. I was only with him for a few hours, but…

Jamie: I keep thinking I knew him longer than I did. I feel it. I don’t remember though.

Kirsty: But you miss him anyway.

Jamie: Yes… Every day… All the time… I don’t know why…

Kirsty: Did you love him?

Kirsty: Do you still love him?

Jamie: … … I— I’m sorry, Kirsty…

Kirsty: Oh, don’t be sorry, Jamie. I knew

Jamie: I think I will miss him forever. I don’t remember him… but I know that I love him anyway. He’s gone though. I won’t see him again.

Kirsty: You don’t know that for sure.

Kirsty: … Listen to me, Jamie. If he comes back… I want you to go with him.

Jamie: What!? What are you saying!?

Kirsty: Be happy.

Jamie: I’m happy enough here…

Kirsty: Wouldn’t you be happier with the Doctor?

Jamie: … But, Kirsty—

Kirsty: Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.

Kirsty: I hope he will return to you. If he loves you… he will come back.

Kirsty: Goodnight

Jamie: … … Where are you, Doctor? Why do I miss you so much? Do you miss me too…?

END

—————

At long last I finished this! It started out as just a bit of fun language practice trying to figure out if I could do a conversation in Gaelic.

The idea that Jamie might see snippets of his sealed memories in his dreams but forget them upon waking was in my head at the time, along with the thought that he would have this unshakeable sense that he was missing something, that he somehow knew this strange man better than his memories say he should even though he only actually remembers the few hours he knew him for in the aftermath of Culloden. And I figured Kirsty, through hearing him talk in his sleep and such starts to piece things together as much as she can to try to talk to him about it.

I wasn’t going to actually do anything with it but then a wave of motivation hit me to turn it into comic practice as well and I ended up drawing all this lol. So here you go.

I left the Gaelic practice in the speech bubbles since that’s surely what they’d be speaking to each other in but keep in mind I’m very much still a basic learner of the language so it’s probably a little awkward or off in places. Don’t look at it too closely 😅

But it was a fun exercise to try anyway!

#Jamie McCrimmon #Kirsty McLaren #Doctor Who #Second Doctor #TwoJamie #Neru arts

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hockeyluvrr · 4 months ago

Text

BLENDER || lh43

MAIN MASTERLIST

summary: Love was never the problem-but distance, doubt, and heartbreak were. You tried to hold on. So did he. But when love stops being enough, what's left?

based on the song BLENDER by 5SOS

warnings: arguments, emotional tension, swearing, miscommunication, jealousy, confrontation, desperation, uncertainty, breaking up, heartbreak, emotional limbo, unresolved feelings, basically all the basic angst stuff lol

notes: holy shit, this came out of nowhere ngl... this is my longest fic yet and I love it so much. shoutout to my 5sos girlies, this is for you (mostly me though ��)

word count: 6,410

The fight had been over for an hour, but your phone was still buzzing.

LUKE: can you just pick up?

LUKE: i don’t want to end the night like this.

LUKE: please.

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the notification. Your body still felt tight, wound up from everything you’d just screamed at each other. The distance was getting to both of you. Maybe it had been from the start.

This was supposed to be easy. A summer fling that accidentally turned into more.

You met Luke last July, when the air was thick with humidity and the nights bled into each other without much consequence. You didn’t think twice when it started—just a guy and a girl caught up in something fun, something fleeting.

But then August came, and instead of ending things, you found yourself tangled in his sheets, whispering promises neither of you had planned to make.

So now, months later, you were here—staring at his name on your phone, wondering if loving someone like this was supposed to feel like free-falling with no parachute.

Another buzz.

LUKE: i’m calling.

The screen lit up with his name, and you swore under your breath before finally answering.

“What?”

A beat of silence. Then, his voice—tired, frustrated, but still laced with something soft. “You actually picked up.”

“I figured you weren’t gonna stop until I did,” you muttered, shifting in bed. Your voice came out flat, but you weren’t sure how else to talk to him when your heart was still beating too fast from the argument.

Luke exhaled sharply. “I don’t get why you’re acting like I don’t care.”

“You don’t get it because you’re never here.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and aching.

His silence was louder than the words themselves.

“Y/N…” He sounded exhausted. “You know I can’t just—”

“I know, Luke,” you cut in. “I know you have a career. I know you can’t just drop everything for me. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You sat up, gripping your blanket. “I call. I text. I make time. But when was the last time you put in the effort? When was the last time you planned something instead of just squeezing me in when it was convenient?”

His breath hitched, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the words.

The silence stretched.

You should’ve let it sit. Let him stew in it. But instead, your voice broke when you whispered, “Do you even miss me, Luke?”

The question must’ve hit him harder than anything else, because when he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. “Are you serious?”

You didn’t answer. You weren’t sure you could.

“Of course I fucking miss you,” he snapped. “Every damn day. But I can’t just—” He cut himself off, cursing under his breath. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. I can’t fix the distance. I can’t fix my schedule. I can’t—”

“I don’t want you to fix it,” you admitted, voice cracking. “I just want to matter enough for you to try.”

The silence came back, heavier than before.

You closed your eyes. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Wait—”

“I need space, Luke.” Your throat tightened. “Just… goodnight.”

Then, before he could say anything else, you hung up.

You threw your phone onto the nightstand and curled up into yourself, letting the weight of it all crash down.

Outside, the city lights flickered through your window, but they didn’t feel warm. Not tonight.

Not when you weren’t sure if this was just another fight—

Or the beginning of the end.

———

You didn’t sleep.

Not really, anyway. You drifted in and out, your mind replaying every second of last night’s fight, twisting his words in a way that left a hollow ache in your chest.

By the time morning rolled around, your phone was still dark. No texts. No missed calls.

Luke had listened when you said you needed space.

You weren’t sure if that made you feel better or worse.

With a deep sigh, you pushed the blankets off and sat up, rubbing your hands over your face. The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside. It felt unnatural, like the silence had taken up permanent residence in your head, stretching far beyond last night.

You hated how much you missed him.

Even now, your body was wired to check your phone first thing in the morning, waiting for one of his lazy, half-awake messages. Morning, pretty girl. Wish you were here. Call me when you wake up.

But today, there was nothing.

It shouldn’t have surprised you. You were the one who ended the call. You were the one who asked for space.

So why did it feel like he was the one pulling away?

With a groan, you flopped back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling, replaying the fight in your head. Maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe you should’ve let him explain instead of throwing accusations like knives. You knew his schedule was hell. You knew long distance wasn’t easy.

But at the same time… when was the last time he really made you feel like a priority?

Before you could spiral any further, your phone buzzed.

Your heart jumped.

But when you grabbed it, the screen didn’t show Luke’s name.

It was your best friend, Riley.

RILEY: u up? brunch. now. no excuses.

You hesitated. Normally, you’d decline, opting to stay curled up in your thoughts. But today, with the weight of last night still pressing on your chest, you needed the distraction.

YOU: be there in 20.

—

The café was small and familiar, the kind of place you and Riley had claimed as your own years ago. The smell of coffee and syrup hung thick in the air, and the morning crowd buzzed around you.

Riley spotted you before you even reached the table. “Oh, yeah. You look rough.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped into the seat across from her. “Thanks.”

She pushed a mimosa toward you. “Drink. Then talk.”

You didn’t argue. One sip turned into two, and before you knew it, you were spilling everything—how Luke had called, how you fought, how you hung up first. How he hadn’t texted since.

Riley frowned. “So you told him you needed space, and now you’re mad that he’s giving it to you?”

You groaned, slumping in your seat. “Not when you say it like that.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to say it?” She arched a brow. “Did you expect him to blow up your phone? Show up at your door?”

You hated that you didn’t have a good answer.

Riley sighed, softer this time. “I get it, babe. I do. Long distance sucks. And I know you’re tired of feeling like you’re the only one putting in the effort. But you guys love each other, right?”

Your stomach twisted. Love.

Neither of you had said it yet.

Riley noticed your silence and leaned forward. “Wait. Have you guys even talked about—?”

“No,” you cut in quickly, suddenly regretting this conversation. “It’s not like that.”

She gave you a knowing look but didn’t push. “Okay. So what is it like?”

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “It’s…” You struggled for the right words. “It’s messy. It’s intense. It’s too much but never enough at the same time.”

Riley nodded like she understood, even though you weren’t sure you did.

For a second, neither of you spoke. Then, she reached for her phone.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer right away. Then, with a pointed look, she turned the screen toward you.

Luke’s latest Instagram post stared back at you.

Your chest tightened.

It was a photo of him at practice, mid-laugh, sweaty and effortless in a way that made your heart ache. The caption was simple. Back at it.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing emotional.

But all the comments blurred together in your head. Can’t wait to watch you this season! Missed you on the ice! Looking good, Hughesy!

It was a reminder that, while you were sitting here overthinking everything, Luke was out there living.

Like last night never happened.

Like you didn’t happen.

You swallowed hard. “So what? He’s just… moving on?”

Riley gave you a sympathetic look. “Or maybe he’s just waiting. For you to reach out first.”

You stared at the screen, your stomach twisting into knots.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you should text him.

Or maybe the cracks were already too deep to fix.

———

It had been three days.

Three days since the fight. Three days since you hung up on Luke. Three days of absolute silence.

You told yourself you wouldn’t be the one to break first. If he cared, he’d reach out. If he wanted this to work, he’d try.

But every hour that passed without his name lighting up your phone chipped away at your resolve.

You were starting to wonder if maybe this was how it ended—not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a slow, suffocating silence that swallowed you whole.

And yet, even with the weight of it pressing down on your chest, you still couldn’t bring yourself to text him first.

Instead, you did the worst possible thing.

You checked social media.

Luke wasn’t the type to post often, but his teammates were. And there he was—in a video on Jack’s story, laughing in the background, surrounded by friends, a drink in hand like the last three days hadn’t meant anything to him.

You stared at the screen, your grip tightening on your phone.

Maybe this was stupid. Maybe you were reading too much into it.

But the longer you watched, the worse it got.

Because then she appeared.

A girl you didn’t recognise—blonde, wearing a Devils jersey far too oversized to be her own—sidling up next to Luke, whispering something in his ear. He didn’t move away. Didn’t look uncomfortable. Just smirked, shaking his head at whatever she said before taking another sip of his drink.

Your stomach twisted.

The worst part wasn’t the fact that she was there. It wasn’t even the fact that Luke didn’t seem to mind.

It was the fact that, for the first time since you met him, you had no idea where you stood.

You weren’t his girlfriend, not officially.

Not really.

Because when the summer ended, neither of you had wanted to put a label on it. You told yourselves it was easier that way—no pressure, no expectations, just whatever this was.

But now, as you watched him on that screen, looking so effortlessly unbothered, it hit you like a fucking freight train.

Maybe you’d been wrong.

Maybe you weren’t something worth holding on to.

The buzzing in your head was so loud that you almost didn’t hear Riley calling your name.

You blinked, barely processing that she was standing in the doorway of your apartment. “Are you even listening?”

You swallowed hard, locking your phone before she could see the screen. “What?”

She sighed, stepping inside and dropping onto your couch. “I said we’re going out tonight. You need a distraction.”

“I don’t need a distraction,” you muttered, even as you stared blankly at the wall.

Riley rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what? You’re just gonna sit here all night, refreshing Instagram like a psycho?”

Your silence must have been answer enough.

She groaned. “Y/N. Come on. I love you, but this? This isn’t healthy. You don’t even know what’s going on.”

You clenched your jaw. “I know enough.”

She gave you a long look, then sighed. “Fine. If you’re not gonna let it go, then at least don’t let him be the only one having fun tonight.”

You hesitated.

Riley saw the crack in your resolve and jumped on it. “Just a couple drinks. That’s all I’m asking.”

You weren’t sure why you agreed. Maybe it was the fact that you’d barely left your apartment in days. Maybe it was the need to feel something—anything—other than this ache in your chest.

Or maybe, deep down, it was the smallest, most pathetic part of you that wanted Luke to see you moving on, too.

———

The bar was packed. Music pulsed through the speakers, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and too many bodies crammed into one space.

It should’ve felt suffocating.

But instead, with a drink in your hand and Riley’s laughter ringing in your ears, you almost managed to forget.

Almost.

At least, until your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You knew who it was before you even checked.

LUKE: are you out?

Your heart nearly stopped. After three days of nothing, this was how he chose to reach out? Not an apology. Not an explanation. Just that.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and typed back before you could think better of it.

YOU: why do you care?

His response was instant.

LUKE: where are you?

You stared at the message, pulse pounding in your ears.

He had no right to be asking that. Not after ignoring you. Not after letting you sit with the weight of this fight while he went out, acting like he didn’t care.

So instead of answering, you did the stupidest thing possible.

You let some guy buy you another drink.

You didn’t know his name. Didn’t care. He was tall, attractive, and most importantly—he wasn’t Luke.

And if you felt the burn of guilt in your chest when he leaned in closer, when his fingers brushed against yours. You shouldn’t even feel guilty, right? Luke’s been doing the same thing.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Until your phone buzzed again.

LUKE: Y/N.

One words. Your name. That’s all it took to make your breath hitch.

Because suddenly, it wasn’t just a fight. It wasn’t just a rough patch.

This was a game.

———

The tension had been simmering all night.

It started with Luke’s text. One simple word that crawled under your skin, wrapping around your ribs like a vice. But what pissed you off the most wasn’t the message itself.

It was the fact that he suddenly cared.

After three days of silence. After her in his Instagram story. After making you feel like you were the only one suffering through this distance.

And now, here he was, acting like he had a say in what you did.

So you ignored the text.

And maybe you let that guy keep flirting with you a little longer than you should have. Maybe you let his hand linger at the small of your back when he leaned in to talk. Maybe you even laughed a little louder, tilted your chin just enough that if Luke somehow saw—if he was watching—he’d know exactly what you were doing.

It was petty. It was reckless.

But so was loving someone who could make you feel this small.

The tension cracked the second you stepped outside the bar.

Luke was waiting.

You nearly tripped when you saw him, heart slamming against your ribs. He was standing near the curb, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, jaw clenched so tightly it looked like he was trying to grind his teeth into dust.

Your stomach flipped. He was here. He actually came.

But you weren’t sure if that made things better or worse.

His eyes locked onto you immediately, flickering down to the guy who had followed you out. And in that moment, the simmering tension didn’t just build. It exploded.

“The fuck is this?” Luke’s voice was low, controlled—but you knew him well enough to hear the storm brewing beneath it.

You blinked, still caught off guard by the fact that he was here. “What?”

Luke’s jaw tightened. “Who the hell is he?”

The guy next to you—God, you didn’t even remember his name—shifted awkwardly. “Uh—”

“Not your business, Hughes,” you cut in before he could finish.

Luke’s eyes snapped back to you. “Not my business?”

“You heard me.” Your pulse was pounding, but you forced yourself to hold your ground. “You don’t get to disappear for three days and then show up acting like you have any right to be pissed.”

Luke let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “That’s funny, because I could say the same thing. You tell me you need space, ignore me for days, and then I see you all over some guy?”

“I ignored you?” You scoffed, anger bubbling to the surface. “That’s rich, Luke. Where the hell were you? Oh, right—too busy playing NHL golden boy, letting some random girl hang off you—”

“What girl?”

The fact that he had the audacity to act confused made your blood boil. “Don’t play dumb.” You crossed your arms, nails digging into your skin. “The blonde. The one in your jersey.”

Luke stared at you for a moment, then let out another disbelieving laugh. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“She’s Jack’s friend. She was at the game. I barely talked to her.” He shook his head, eyes dark with frustration. “Jesus, Y/N. You saw a story and what—just assumed the worst?”

You hated the way your stomach twisted at that.

Because maybe—just maybe—he was right. Maybe you had let jealousy cloud your judgment. Maybe you had let the silence between you turn into something uglier than it was ever meant to be.

But that didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t just about her.

It was about everything.

The late-night calls that were always cut short. The weeks without seeing each other. The way it felt like you were constantly reaching for him while he was always a step too far away.

“You let me assume the worst,” you muttered, voice shaking despite yourself. “Because you never do anything to prove me wrong.”

Luke’s expression flickered—just for a second. And in that second, you saw it. The guilt.

But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” His voice was quieter now, raw around the edges. “That I wish I could be around more? That I fucking hate the distance just as much as you do?” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You act like this is easy for me. Like I don’t miss you every goddamn day.”

Your throat tightened. “Then why don’t you act like it?”

He stared at you, breathing hard, like he was trying to find the right words—but they never came.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

There was always so much left unsaid.

Neither of you spoke. The tension that had been simmering all night was now crackling in the air between you, but this time, there was nowhere left for it to go.

The guy you had walked out with cleared his throat. “Uh—”

Luke’s head snapped toward him. “Leave.”

“Luke—”

“No, it’s fine.” The guy held up his hands, clearly deciding that whatever this was, it wasn’t worth the drama. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You didn’t watch him leave. You didn’t even care.

Because all of your attention was on Luke.

On the way his shoulders were tense, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes locked onto yours like this was some kind of battle neither of you knew how to win.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you exhaled. “So what now?”

Luke hesitated.

And that hesitation—that tiny moment of uncertainty—made something inside you crack.

Because if he didn’t know, then maybe you already did.

Maybe you’d known for a while.

Maybe you just hadn’t wanted to say it out loud.

You swallowed hard. “I can’t keep doing this, Luke.”

His face fell.

You regretted the words the second they left your mouth.

I can’t keep doing this, Luke.

Because now they were out there, hanging heavy in the space between you, and you couldn’t take them back.

Luke’s face twisted, like the weight of them had hit him straight in the chest. He shifted slightly, like he wanted to move closer but didn’t know if he was still allowed to. “You don’t mean that.”

Your throat tightened. Didn’t you?

“I don’t know,” you whispered, voice barely audible over the hum of the city around you. “I don’t know what I mean anymore.”

That seemed to snap something in him. His jaw clenched, frustration bleeding into his voice. “So what? You just want to walk away?”

Your stomach twisted. That wasn’t what you wanted—not really. But maybe it would be easier. Maybe it would hurt less than this constant, suffocating ache in your chest.

“I don’t want to,” you admitted, voice cracking. “But, Luke… I don’t know how to keep this from falling apart.”

He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Then we figure it out.”

You let out a hollow laugh. “And how do we do that? Because I’m fucking exhausted. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one fighting for this.”

That made something flicker in his expression—something wounded. “That’s not fair.”

You scoffed. “Isn’t it?”

His eyes darkened. “You think I don’t fight for this? You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“I think you want me when it’s convenient.” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t take them back. “When you have time. When it doesn’t get in the way of your schedule.”

Luke took a step closer, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” You could feel your control slipping, the frustration bubbling over. “Because I spend every day waiting for you to call, waiting for you to show up—and half the time, I’m left wondering if you even remember I exist.”

Luke’s brows furrowed, his expression torn between anger and something softer, something that looked like guilt.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice tight. “You have no fucking clue how hard this is for me too.”

“Then tell me.” Your voice cracked, raw and desperate. “Because all I know is that I feel like I’m constantly reaching for you, and you’re never there.”

Luke let out a frustrated breath, his hands flexing like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? I don’t know how to give you everything you deserve while I’m a thousand miles away.”

Your chest ached at the confession, at the vulnerability underneath the frustration. But it didn’t change anything.

“I’m not asking for everything, Luke.” Your voice softened just slightly. “I’m just asking for something.”

Luke shook his head, exhaling sharply. “I—fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, like he was trying to pull himself together. “I don’t know how to fix this, but I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenched.

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neither of you knew how to fix it. But neither of you could bear the thought of letting go.

Luke’s gaze searched yours, desperate and pleading. “Tell me what to do.”

Your throat felt tight. “I don’t have the answer.”

For a second, neither of you spoke. The tension was suffocating, your emotions teetering on a knife’s edge.

Then, suddenly, Luke moved.

He reached for you like it was instinct, his hands cupping your face, his forehead pressing against yours. His breath was shaky, his grip almost too tight—like he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers.

“I love you.” The words were barely above a whisper, but they hit you like a punch to the chest.

Your breath hitched.

Because he’d never said it before. Neither of you had.

You felt your resolve cracking, splintering under the weight of those three words.

But love wasn’t always enough.

And as much as you wanted to believe this was the turning point—the moment everything changed—you weren’t sure if this was a beginning or just the messiest part of the end.

Because Luke had never said those words before.

And you’d spent so long wondering if he ever would—if he ever could.

Now, here they were, hanging in the air between you like a lifeline you weren’t sure you could reach for.

I love you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the way his hands trembled against your skin. He was holding you so tightly, like he thought you might slip through his fingers if he let go.

And maybe he was right.

Because as much as you wanted to say it back—as much as you felt it—you weren’t sure love was enough to fix this.

Your throat felt tight. “Luke…”

He shook his head quickly, like he already knew what you were going to say. “Don’t. Just—don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

Your heart twisted. “I do mean it.”

Luke’s breath hitched, but before he could say anything, you continued.

“I love you, Luke.” The words tasted like the truth, and you hated how much it hurt to say them. “But I don’t know if that changes anything.”

Luke exhaled sharply, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were desperate, searching. “Of course it changes things.”

You swallowed hard. “Does it?”

He blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to ask that. “It has to.”

Your chest ached. Because you wanted to believe that. You wanted to believe that loving each other was enough to make the distance bearable, to make the jealousy fade, to make the ache in your chest disappear every time he left.

But love wasn’t a bandage. It didn’t erase the late nights spent staring at your phone, wondering if he’d call. It didn’t undo the fights, the silences, the way you felt like you were constantly fighting a battle you didn’t know how to win.

Luke must have seen the hesitation on your face because his grip tightened. “Y/N, I need you to tell me what to do here.” His voice was quiet, but it was raw, edged with frustration and fear. “Because I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t know how to make this work.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know either.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neither of you had the answers.

You loved him, and he loved you. But love alone wasn’t fixing anything.

Luke clenched his jaw. “So what? We just give up?”

You inhaled sharply. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” he pleaded. “Stay.”

Your heart cracked straight down the middle.

Because God, you wanted to stay. You wanted to hold onto him and pretend like love was enough. You wanted to ignore the distance, the fights, the uncertainty.

But how much longer could you keep pretending that love was enough to stop this from falling apart?

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Luke, I don’t know how to keep doing this.”

His expression twisted, something breaking in his gaze.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

The silence felt heavier than ever before. Stretching between you, thick and suffocating.

Luke’s hands were still on you, but his grip had loosened—like he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t hold on forever.

But neither of you were ready to say it out loud.

Not yet.

“I can do better,” he said suddenly, voice hoarse. “I’ll—fuck, I’ll make more time. I’ll fly out every chance I get. I’ll call more. Whatever you need.”

Your chest ached at the desperation in his voice.

Because he meant it. You knew he did.

But the problem was never him meaning it.

The problem was reality—the way life always seemed to get in the way, no matter how much either of you wanted to pretend otherwise.

You swallowed hard. “Luke…”

“Just give me a chance,” he pleaded. “One more chance to make this work.”

You hated how badly you wanted to say yes.

Because you did. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that one more try would be enough. That if you just held on a little longer, fought a little harder, things would get easier.

But history had already proven otherwise.

Still, when you looked at him—at the raw emotion in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were slipping through his fingers—you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

Not yet.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief, and before you could second-guess it, he was pulling you against him. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his face buried in your hair, like he was trying to memorise the feel of you against him.

“I love you,” he murmured again, like saying it enough times would make everything okay.

You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the back of his hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

And you did.

But deep down, you had a sinking feeling that love wouldn’t be enough to save you.

Not this time.

———

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

For a little while, it almost felt like things were okay. Luke called more, sent you stupid texts throughout the day, made an effort to remind you that he wanted this, that he wanted you.

And maybe that should’ve been enough.

But it wasn’t.

Because even when he was trying—when he was doing everything he promised he would—the ache in your chest never really went away.

It wasn’t just the distance. It was the exhaustion. The weight of trying so hard, only to feel like you were running in circles.

Like you were holding onto something that was already slipping through the cracks.

And now, standing in his apartment, you felt the final thread start to snap.

Luke was frustrated. You could see it in the way he raked a hand through his hair, in the way his jaw kept clenching like he was trying to hold something back.

“Jesus, Y/N, what else do you want me to do?” His voice wasn’t raised, but it was edged with something sharp, something tired. “I’m trying. I’m here. What more do you want?”

You exhaled shakily, heart pounding against your ribs. “I don’t know.”

Luke let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You have to know. Because I can’t keep guessing what’s going to make you happy.”

Your stomach twisted. “This isn’t just about me.”

“No? Because it sure as hell feels like I’m the only one bending over backward to make this work.”

That stung.

Because you had been trying. You had been fighting for this.

But maybe that was the difference.

Luke thought fixing this was about doing things—calling more, texting more, showing up when he could. And sure, those things mattered. But that wasn’t what was breaking you.

It was everything in between.

The distance that couldn’t be closed by a few extra phone calls. The silence that still felt heavy, even when you were together. The way you still felt alone, even in the moments he was right in front of you.

It wasn’t about effort anymore. It was about the fact that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t supposed to keep fighting for something that hurt this much.

Your throat felt tight. “I don’t think we can fix this.”

Luke froze.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, his expression hardened. “So that’s it?”

Your chest ached. “Luke—”

“No, seriously. That’s it?” He let out a sharp breath, stepping back like he couldn’t stand being this close to you anymore. “We hit a rough patch, and you just decide it’s not worth it?”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “This isn’t just a rough patch.” Your voice wavered. “We’ve been fighting for months. We keep trying, and it’s not working.”

Luke shook his head, eyes dark with frustration. “No. You keep doubting us. You keep looking for an excuse to leave.”

That felt like a slap.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Your voice cracked. “Do you think I want to feel like this? To feel like I’m constantly begging for something that’s never enough?”

Luke’s expression flickered—like maybe, just maybe, he finally saw how much this had been hurting you.

But the worst part?

You knew it was hurting him too.

That was what made this so fucking unbearable.

Because this wasn’t about not loving each other.

It was about the fact that love had stopped being enough.

Luke’s hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he should. His voice was quieter when he spoke again, but it still felt like a punch to the gut.

“You really want to do this?”

No.

God, no.

But what choice did you have?

Your chest felt like it was caving in, but you forced yourself to nod. “Yeah.”

Luke inhaled sharply, like he’d been punched.

And just like that, it was over.

The fight drained out of him all at once. His shoulders slumped, his eyes flickering toward the floor. “Okay.”

You weren’t sure which hurt more—the frustration, the fighting, or this.

The emptiness.

The realisation that there was nothing left to say.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “I should go.”

Luke didn’t stop you.

And somehow, that was the worst part of all.

———

The apartment felt too quiet.

Your suitcase sat half-open by the door, clothes spilling out of it. You hadn’t unpacked since you got back a week ago, pathetically trying to cling onto something you weren’t ready to let go of.

But what was left to stay for?

Your hands shook as you opened it further, starting to finally unpack. Your chest felt hollow, like the fight had carved out a part of you that you weren’t sure would ever feel whole again.

You had been the one to walk away.

So why did it feel like you had just lost everything?

You had told yourself that this was the right decision. That love—no matter how deep, no matter how real—wasn’t always enough. That some things just didn’t work, no matter how badly you wanted them to.

But God, it hurt.

Your phone sat on the bedside table, untouched since you got back to your apartment.

Luke hadn’t called.

And you weren’t sure what hurt more—the idea that he was too angry to reach out, or the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he had already accepted this.

That he was ready to let you go.

You weren’t sure you were ready to let go of him.

But you had already done the hardest part. You had walked out of his apartment, out of his life.

Now, you just had to figure out how to live with it.

———

The silence in the apartment was unbearable.

Luke had never noticed how loud it was when you were here—the hum of your voice on the phone, the sound of your laugh echoing from the other room, the way you always seemed to fill the space in a way he never had.

Now, it was just quiet.

And he fucking hated it.

His hands flexed at his sides as he paced the living room, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.

You were gone.

And it wasn’t a stupid fight. It wasn’t a rough patch.

This time, you weren’t coming back.

Luke had thought about calling you. Had stared at his phone for so long that his vision blurred, the screen taunting him with your name.

But what would he even say?

That he was sorry? That he still loved you? That he wanted to take it all back, but he knew deep down that nothing had changed?

That no matter how much he wanted to fix this, some things just weren’t meant to be fixed?

Luke sat down heavily on the couch, staring at the door like he half expected you to walk back in.

But you wouldn’t.

And he wasn’t sure how to live with that.

———

Time was supposed to make this easier.

That’s what everyone told you. That eventually, the ache in your chest would dull, and one day you’d wake up without the weight of him pressing against your ribs.

But weeks had passed. Then months.

And Luke still felt like a ghost in your life.

He was everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the song that played in the coffee shop, in the hoodie still shoved in the back of your closet because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away. In the fleeting moments when you reached for your phone before remembering that he wasn’t yours to call anymore.

You had moved on, technically. You did all the things you were supposed to do—went out with friends, filled your days with distractions, pretended like the hole in your chest wasn’t still there.

But every time you saw his name in a headline, every time you heard his voice in an interview, it hit you like a punch to the gut.

Because you still missed him.

And no matter how much time passed, you weren’t sure you’d ever stop.

———

He didn’t talk about you.

Not to his teammates, not to his family, not even when Jack asked in that quiet, careful way that made Luke’s jaw tighten.

Because if he didn’t talk about you, maybe he could pretend like he wasn’t still thinking about you.

Like he didn’t check his phone some nights, scrolling mindlessly, hoping to see your name somewhere even though he knew he wouldn’t.

Like he didn’t still hear your voice in the back of his head sometimes, teasing him, laughing, telling him you loved him.

It was pathetic, probably. Holding onto something that was already gone.

But Luke had never been good at letting go.

He threw himself into hockey. Into practices, games, anything that kept him too exhausted to think about the way his apartment still felt empty without you.

But some nights, when the adrenaline faded and the silence crept in, he wondered.

If you still thought about him. If you still missed him the way he missed you.

If this was really over.

Or if maybe, just maybe, it never really would be.

#luke hughes angst #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #lhughes #lh43 #new jersey devils #nj devils #devils hockey #hockeyluvrr

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hgfictionwriter · 6 months ago

Text

First Impressions: Part two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Okay, so maybe Jessie isn't as shallow or one-dimensional as you thought. You decided to give her a chance, but first impressions and long-standing reputations can be hard to simply forget about. Can you let your insecurities go and can she prove that she's serious about you?

Warnings: Smut. Edging. Cunnilingus. Fingering. Language.

A/N: Part two! The rehabilitation of Player Jessie lol. It's a bit long, but there is smut, I swear.

“Hey Beautiful. How’s your day going?”

You glanced up from your phone and bit back a smile. You idly glanced around the library, clearing your throat before resettling on your phone and typing out a reply.

“Texting me when you’re on the road? You must be bored.”

“Day’s going well. Just at the library right now.”

“What? Without me?! I feel betrayed jk”

“I’m not bored. Just missing my study buddy turned…girlfriend?”

Your posture straightened and your eyes narrowed as you read her message.

“Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

"Yeah?"

"Lol why the question mark! You're either asking me out or you're not."

"I am."

"Wow."

"What?! What was wrong with that? Lol. I thought it was smooth."

"Your inexperience is showing, Fleming."

“Well that’s a first.”

You rolled your eyes. When you glanced back down you saw she was typing.

“You said you didn’t want casual. And we've had some great dates. And I don't want to seem too over-confident, but I think I've coaxed you along from tolerating me to perhaps even enjoying my company. Periodically lol. So, I’m just following through.”

You bit your lip and your cheeks ached from holding back a full blown smile. Your head buzzed as you reread her message.

If there was a theme in your dynamic, it was that you had to give a hard time. Even in this situation.

"Enjoying your company? Let's not get carried away, now. I mean, just because we text all day, have hot make-out sessions, say sweet, romantic things to each other and it took us an hour and a half to say 'goodnight' yesterday, doesn't mean anything. So presumptuous of you."

"Ugh. You're right. I've misread the signs. My bad."

"But seriously - you haven't answered. And I'm actually getting nervous. Come on, Y/L/N. You'll either be my girlfriend or you won't 😛"

You smirked. You appreciated how easily you two bantered and this was no exception.

A few weeks had passed since that night in the hallway. Things escalated quickly, honestly. Suddenly there was this emotional intimacy that was rapidly evolving between you two and it just felt so natural. And Jessie, despite everything you would've originally expected, had been sweet, authentic, and steady.

The opportunity to step away and stop yourself from catching feelings was long over. Dangerous territory? You were in the thick of it. If you were going to turn back, now was the time.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

"That just 1000% made my day. My week. Month. More!"

You rubbed your face in elated disbelief and typed out a reply.

"Well. If you keep it up, my feelings for you might progress from tolerating, to enjoying to...who knows."

"Shit. I honest to God want to turn around and come back. And I never want to miss camps."

"I seriously miss you."

Giddy. You felt fucking giddy and you couldn't believe it.

"I miss you too. Which is fucking crazy since I saw you less than 24 hours ago."

"Tell me about it lol."

"I'll be here when you get back."

“Better be lol. And until then. Don’t let some other nerdy athlete charm you.”

You audibly laughed, cutting it short as it sounded through the quiet space.

“Yeah. And you keep your little fan club at bay while you’re away, okay?”

“Easy. I’ll text you after we're done for the day, okay? Happy studying!”

You couldn’t believe what was going on. It was so unexpected that you still had to remind yourself of the events that took place to get here. It was the only way to reconcile the fact that you were sitting here texting with Jessie Fleming. Flirting with Jessie Fleming. Dating Jessie Fleming. Someone who was Bad News; the type to break your heart and leave you longing.

Yet, someone who you - maybe - had all wrong.

Someone you, in fact, very much, were swooning over.

-------

You were reading the slide on screen and listening to the professor when suddenly Jessie nudged you with her elbow.

She had her eyes trained forward but shifted her laptop, angling it towards you. A smirk began to tug at the corner of her mouth and she gave you a brief, cursory glance. You looked down at her screen to see she'd selected some text in her notes.

"You look amazing. Stop distracting me."

You nearly blew a raspberry, managing to suppress it into a vague scoff. You rolled your eyes as you faced forward once more, but felt a blush burning on your cheeks. You glanced back at her to see her smiling widely at you now. She returned her attention to her laptop and typed out a new sentence.

"You know you're beautiful. You don't need to be shy about it."

You shook your head affectionately and typed out a reply before turning your screen slightly towards her. Your posture stiffened as she placed a hand on the edge of your seat to lean in to read.

"You're out of control. And who's distracting who here, huh? lol"

She retracted her hand to start typing and you missed it immediately. When she was done typing you leaned over, placing a hand directly on her thigh as you read the message.

"You are distracting me. You = distracting and gorgeous."

You silently snickered with another shake of your head.

"Omfg. You're ridiculous."

She glanced down at your hand purposefully.

"Especially now."

You gave her a look somewhere between chiding and teasing. She shot you another smirk and typed further.

"Don't get me wrong. I like it."

"Care to go on a little adventure with me after class?"

You weren't going to say 'no'. She knew it. You knew it. And sure enough, after class she led you by the hand to another building across campus until you were in an abandoned stairwell. You assumed you were going to continue on elsewhere, but learned otherwise when she gently pushed you against the wall with a charming smile and a slow kiss.

You giggled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around the back of her shoulders.

"You take me to the nicest places," you teased.

"Both our roommates are in, so privacy is a tough commodity to come by," she replied with a chuckle as she began to kiss her way down your neck. It took every effort not to gasp. "You look gorgeous all the time, but I especially love when you wear your hair up. I couldn't stop staring at your neck - all I could think about was kissing it."

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as her warm breath caressed you, her lips explored and you could feel just the slightest, teasing touch of her tongue on your neck.

While the emotional barriers you'd tried to put up had proven entirely fruitless and ineffective, you'd done a much better job of withholding physical boundaries.

Given your concerns going into this relationship, you'd told yourself that you wanted to very strongly establish an emotional foundation with Jessie before being physically intimate. So even though you would've probably already slept with someone by this point, and Jessie most certainly would've too, you'd never allowed the two of you to go further than a heavy and hot make-out session.

You wanted her to work for it. To earn it. And to your surprise, she didn't seem deterred in the least. She'd been respectful and patient. Well, mostly patient. You knew she was raring to go, but any time you pumped the brakes she backed off.

Your hands were running through her hair and you two were - consciously or not - rocking your hips against one another's as she kissed and lightly sucked on your neck and her hands began to inch under your top. Your core was throbbing with need already.

"What if someone comes by?" You managed to say, eyes falling shut at the sensations she was sending through your body.

"No one ever comes here. Don't worry," she responded easily.

Your eyes fluttered opened, a frown slowly forming across your forehead. The lightness and excitement that had been coursing through your veins a moment before was immediately replaced with a heavy pit in your stomach.

You pulled back, slowly dropping your hands away from her head to her waist and pushing gently. She extended her neck, working to keep her lips in contact with your neck before eventually relenting with a confused look and allowing herself to be pushed back.

"I should probably go," you said, tone admittedly a bit flat as you failed to hold eye contact with her while you smoothed out your clothes.

"Wh-huh?" She asked, blatantly puzzled by your change in demeanor. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head subtly and began to walk away. You were deeply tempted to not reply at all or to just deflect, but instead you replied with, "Look. I'm not going to be just some other girl you fuck in a stairwell between classes, okay?"

You had your back to her and were pushing the door open so you missed whatever physical reaction she had, but her perturbed, "Are you serious right now?" rang loud in your ears.

You continued to walk outside, her footsteps close behind you and you turned around folding your arms against yourself.

"Yeah. I am," you told her almost wearily. You could see the frustration on her face and she laughed in disbelief.

"What," you challenged. "Are you going to tell me you haven't brought other girls here? Made out with them there? Fucked them even?"

Despite her irritation, she averted her gaze, scoffing lightly and eventually offering an exaggerated shrug.

"And if I did?"

You shook your head, turning away slightly with a huff. She gave an empty laugh.

"Would you rather I lie? 'No, baby, you're the only one ever!'" She finished mockingly.

"What the fuck, Jess," you retorted, voice rising slightly as you narrowed your eyes at her. "You don't need to be an asshole about it." Your face felt hot with anger, but suddenly it shifted and you knew if you weren't careful you were going to start crying. "I just don't want to be treated the same as all the others." You scowled, pushing back further emotion, "If what you say is true and things are different with me."

She exhaled heavily, dropping her gaze and stretching out her fingers and opening her palms as a way to calm herself. She took a breath and lifted her head to meet your eyes once more, still speaking tersely, but calmer than you'd been.

"That's why I'm frustrated," she said. "You are very different and I feel very different about you. For you. And I do treat you differently! Do you think I was texting those girls all day? Telling them I miss them. Planning dates. Telling them all my hopes and fears; asking them about theirs? Bringing them to hang out with my friends? And I sure as shit didn't ask them to be my girlfriend."

A wave of guilt rushed over you. Okay, maybe you were still making a sweeping generalization, but you still felt the way you did.

"I'm sorry," you relented slightly, but went on. "I see what you're saying. And I'm trying. But I still can't help it sometimes. I-I don't know. I know you're not who I originally thought you were. But I guess a part of me is still scared. I," you paused, words getting caught in your throat, "I really like you, Jess. And - moments like this make me terrified that I'm just going to get left behind like one of your other girls."

Jessie sighed quietly, dropping her gaze once more as she kicked distractedly at the sidewalk. When she looked back up her eyes were sad, but you could still see the warmth behind them.

"I don't know what to do," she said helplessly. "I can't change the past. I want you to feel confident in us. In me. But I can't undo anything from before. I'm trying to be clear and direct about how important you are to me. I really like you too, and I just wish I knew how to get you to trust me."

You exhaled, your own frustration at your feelings seeping in. "It's not that I don't trust you. I mean, I guess that's hard to believe, but that's really not what's going on," you insisted. "And I understand that you can't change anything from the past. And you shouldn't have to. That's just something I need to get over. It's really just...I don't want to be the same as the other girls."

She watched you quietly as she contemplated. She took a couple of steps towards you, closing the gap and tentatively taking your hands in hers.

"I promise you you're not. And I understand that my reputation has made trust a bit more difficult. But, I really, really need you to know that this - and you - are special to me." She nodded as she continued. "You're right - I probably shouldn't have brought you to the same spot I brought other girls. Especially given," she looked away briefly, "what I'd do with them there. I can see now that was not the wisest. I really wasn't thinking that way - I just wanted to be alone with you and knew we could be there."

You sighed softly and removed your hands from hers to wrap them around her back, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly and kissed the side of your head.

"Thank you. I know you didn't mean anything negative. I just...I got in my head. But, yeah, if you can try to be more mindful of things like that, I'll work on not reacting so impulsively."

"Deal," she chuckled. She pulled back enough for you to see the way she cocked an eyebrow at you playfully. You weren't sure where she was going with this, but you were grateful for the sudden levity and the forgiveness it implied. "And for the record, it's not just all sunshine and rainbows on my end either, you know." She smirked at you and continued.

"Despite my bravado, there's a certain level of insecurity that comes with having the history I do and now meeting this incredible woman and wanting something serious and long-term with her. A no-strings-attached lifestyle is easy breezy - you don't get invested and you don't get hurt. But with you? I don't want to disappoint you. And you can definitely hurt me. I'm not used to that."

You searched her face as she finished speaking and warmth radiated throughout your chest. You kissed her and another wave of affection rushed through you as she squeezed you securely against her.

"I didn't mean to disrespect you at all. I'm really sorry," she said quietly as your kiss ended and she tucked her head against yours.

You pulled back to look at her. Her dark eyes were soft and shimmering and you laid a single kiss on her lips.

"Come with me," you said as you took her by the hand and led her back to the stairwell. You bit back a laugh at the curious smirk on her face as she allowed you to maneuver her against the wall. You smiled as her eyes slowly fell shut as you leaned in to kiss her.

"Guess this means you aren't too mad at me?" She muttered jokingly into the kiss. A crooked grin crossed your lips as you gently grasped her chin and had her meet your gaze.

"You're forgiven," you said with teasing benevolence before arching an eyebrow. "But don't push your luck." She chuckled and shook her head with a smile.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

You grinned as you engaged her a deep, slow kiss, this time your hands sneaking under her shirt and splaying out across her abs. A spark of satisfaction flared and you had to hold back a fuller smile as you felt her breath hitch and the faintest moan escaped her throat.

"I like you so much," you whispered as you began to trail kisses down her neck, noting the way her fingers dug into your waist.

"I like you a lot too," she said with a breathy laugh. You fought back a grin as you pressed your thigh between hers and ground up into her.

"Oh shit," she said, still breathless, another laugh in awe. You got the impression the tables weren't typically turned on her like this. You continued, your hand now toying with the button on her pants. She let out another soft moan. "Fuck, you're getting me so hot."

You smiled smugly as you nipped at her neck.

"Good," you said simply as you pulled back entirely, breaking off all contact and loving how her hands stretched out to follow you and only falling away as you stepped out of reach.

You saw the tiniest, cutest frown form across her forehead as her eyes fluttered open in confusion.

"Call me later?" You asked sweetly with a flirtatious shrug, already turning on your heel and heading for the door.

"Wait, what?" She called after you, her confusion evident in her voice.

You stepped through the door, but turned back to give her an innocent smile. She stared after you like a lost puppy. "We're even now. Call me later, baby."

She belatedly opened her mouth to speak, but you simply blew her a kiss and let the door fall shut.

And call you she did. In fact, when you woke up the next morning you had a text from her in the middle of the night.

"I can't even sleep because I'm still thinking about the stairwell. Nobody's ever made me feel like this. I feel like I'm drunk on you lol. I know that's stupid. But. I can't stop thinking about you."

-----------

You slung your bag over your shoulder and scrolled through your phone as you began to exit your class. You walked head down into the masses of students until someone brushed against your arm and fell into step with you.

"How was class?"

You frowned, puzzled momentarily until your brain caught up and a smile crossed your face at who it was.

"Well hello," you greeted as you gently pushed your shoulder into her, jostling her.

"Hey baby," she greeted with a winning smile as she held out a coffee for you.

"Now this is service," you teased as you took it.

"Only the best for my girl," she said with a wink.

"Is your class cancelled or something?" You asked, knowing her next class was in an entirely different building across campus.

"No, but my last one got out early. Thought I'd surprise you with a coffee," she said, obviously very pleased with herself.

"You're the sweetest," you said as you leaned over mid-step to kiss her cheek. She smiled.

"Don't tell anyone."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Yeah, everyone thinks you're such a jerk."

"You did," she quipped.

"I didn't think you were a jerk," you responded haughtily. "Just a thoughtless womanizer," you chuckled.

"Oh, well thank you for clarifying," she replied dryly with an eye roll of her own as she laced her fingers with yours. "Well now that you know I'm not a total deviant, want to come out for drinks tonight? Mia's back so we're all getting together."

"Sure," you responded lightly as you gave her hand a squeeze.

"Okay, great," she said before leaning over and kissing your cheek before stepping away, walking backwards towards another hall. "See you tonight." She gave you another wink. "Don't miss me too much until then."

That evening you were in a crowded dorm room, solo cup in hand, the bass of some song underlining conversations throughout the space. Mia stood across from you.

"Glad I got a chance to chat with you more. I knew I had to get to know you better because you have got our girl swooning," she teased with a smirk.

"Oh my gosh, not at all," you dismissed though you averted your gaze and felt a blush coming on. Mia laughed heartily and cocked an eyebrow.

"No, no. I've never seen Jess like this before. She used to make fun of other girls for being all lovesick, but now she's even worse than them. Though don't tell her that," she laughed, "she thinks she's being all nonchalant and cool about it."

Your head buzzed with excitement over Mia's words. The extra validation cemented your growing confidence in how significant this connection really was to Jessie. You couldn't help but direct your gaze away from Mia in search of the girl in question. You caught her eye across the room and flashed a smile with a quick wink. You watched as she excused herself from her conversation and began to weave through the crowd.

"Hey, you good?" She asked quietly as she approached, laying a hand on your arm as she kissed your temple. You gave her a quiet smile, holding her gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good."

You didn't think you held her eye contact that long, but your attention and Jessie's was drawn towards Mia as she laughed. She shook her head in amusement.

"Okay, later lovebirds," she deadpanned as she held up her drink in a 'cheers' and walked away.

"I trust Mia was treating you well?" Jessie asked as her eyes followed Mia momentarily while chuckling.

"Of course," you replied with a cheeky grin. "She took great care of me."

"Hopefully not too great," she teased. Your jaw dropped, scandalized though you laughed.

"You're not serious. You. Jessie Fleming. Get jealous?" You asked, eyes bright with amusement as you felt a fluttering in your stomach.

Jessie made a face and laughed, though you could easily see the way her cheeks grew flush. She eventually shrugged.

"Hey, what can I say? I know my teammates are awesome and you're an incredible girl, you can have your pick."

You rolled your eyes. "You're being silly," you said as you gave her an affectionate smile. She held up her hands with charming smirk.

"Just saying. I'm not taking what we have for granted. You don't have to pick me."

You 'tsked' her, arms folded. "Well. I do," you replied, shoulder back and head held high. "So you can relax."

Jessie leaned in, placing a hand on your waist as she kissed your cheek. Her breath tickled your skin. "Well, consider me beyond pleased."

You held her gaze again. Suddenly, there were too many people around. You were overwhelmed with a need to be close to her. Alone with her.

"How's your night going?" You asked, spurring a curious frown from her.

"Fine? Good?" She answered with a soft laugh. "Yours?"

You shrugged lightly. "Nice." You cocked your head as you glanced away purposefully. "Could be better."

"Oh?" She asked. "How so?

You reached out and smoothed out the shoulder of her shirt before playing with the collar.

"It's just starting to feel a little crowded in here," you said with flippant lament. You sighed quietly, but in exaggeration as she processed your words. She cracked a smile.

"Yeah? Is that so?" She asked, chin tilting up slightly as she studied you. She glanced towards the door. "I mean, we could always go."

"Oh I wouldn't want to force you to leave," you relayed sweetly and she gave you a wicked grin.

"Yeah, you're really forcing my hand here," she said flatly. You looked her up and down with a smirk of your own.

"I can find some other things for your hand to do."

Her eyes grew wide for a moment and her mouth fell open at your brazen comment. She eventually closed her mouth, now giving you a less than subtle once over.

"It's not nice to tease," she warned.

"Who's teasing?" You asked innocently while locking eyes with her.

She puffed her cheeks out in an exhale, gaze flitting across the room with an appreciative shake of her head that left you holding back a smug smile. She reached out to lace her fingers with yours, her thumb teasing the palm of your hand.

"Well, are you going to let me take you home or what?" She whispered. You raised both eyebrows at her and clicked your tongue.

"I believe you'll be coming home with me," you retorted playfully. "If anyone's going to be burdened with the walk of shame, it's going to be you." You shrugged. "This time anyway."

She laughed, loud enough that it even attracted the attention of couple of people in adjacent conversations. She sniffed with a residual chuckle and nodded. "Sure. I'll shoulder that responsibility."

On the walk to your building she asked if you should stop at her room to grab, any, you know, supplies. You didn't break your pace at all and simply responded with, "No. I want you now."

She grinned like a Cheshire cat, placing a hand on the small of your back and increased her strides, pulling you along too. "Well then let's not waste any more time."

You'd texted your roommate on the way back and was grateful to see she'd vacated the premises by the time you stepped inside. You'd given her space many times, so it was her turn to return the favour.

You'd barely closed the door when a lighthearted yelp escaped your throat as Jessie spun you around and lifted you off the ground, pressing your back against the door. Her lips immediately latched onto your neck as your arms and legs wrapped around her.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've wanted you," she breathed into your neck as she nipped and sucked at the skin there harder than she'd ever done before and it immediately had your core pulsing.

Something between a gasp and a moan left your mouth as you ran one hand through her hair, pressing her mouth further against your neck and she moaned into you while digging her fingers harder into the underside of your thighs.

Both of you were too hungry to take your time, so it wasn't long before she carried you to the bed, lips still locked as she laid you down.

Your hands were under her shirt and she chuckled as she sat up and took it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

"Now you," she said with a lustful grin as her hands wandered below your shirt and pushed it upwards. You arched your back off the bed and she reached around to help support you while she peeled your shirt off with her other hand. She was still discarding the garment when she leaned down to begin laying teasing kisses down your chest to your bra. Her hand was on the clasp of your bra and you chuckled as she unclasped it with ease, drawing the straps down off of your shoulders with her teeth.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," she said in awe as she sat back again to take in your half-naked image in the dim of the room.

A small cry left your lips as she dipped her head back down and drew one of your nipples into her mouth, her teeth grazing as she released it before latching on again and swirling her tongue around the hardened nipple. You set both hands on the back of her head, fingers partially digging into her scalp in appreciation as she attentively explored you.

She switched nipples and her hand caressed up the outside of your thigh and grabbed your ass through your jeans, kneading firmly and hungrily as she moaned into your breast.

You grasped her other hand and guided it between your bodies, your own hand undoing the button of your jeans.

“You’re sure?” She asked, pausing despite your invitation. You rolled your hips up into her waiting hand and continued to guide her.

She took over, unzipping and pushing her hand down towards your core. Her fingers pressed firmly across your folds through the fabric of your underwear. Your jaw fell as her fingers indirectly grazed your clit.

She moaned. "I can already feel how wet you are," she said in wonder and her tone assured you she was more than pleased by this.

She pushed your panties aside, her fingers caressing through your slick folds for the first time and you immediately groaned in pleasure and rolled your hips up into her eager hand.

"You feel so fucking amazing already," she said, head lolling to the side momentarily before she began kissing her way down your torso. You tried not to whine as she removed her hand long enough to remove your jeans.

"You're going to get sick of me telling you how gorgeous you are," she said as she nipped at your underwear, tugging them down teasingly with her teeth. She hooked her fingers into the band but you stopped her temporarily.

"I want your clothes off, too," you told her in a way that left no room for debate. She snickered before pushing herself up off of you and shimmying off her clothes.

"Anything for you," she joked as she returned her attention to you, her lips laying fleeting kisses along the crease between your thighs and core. You heard her chuckle as your legs grew restless, rubbing against the sheets. She reached up and rubbed teasing circles around your nub through your panties.

"Please," you said simply.

"Please what?" She asked innocently and you could hear the smile in her voice before her tongue made contact with your skin, eliciting a gasp out of you.

You writhed beneath her. Even though this was brand new territory for you two, you felt safe expressing yourself.

"I need you," you answered, trusting that it would be well received and not feeling embarrassed or self-conscious in your saying so.

You heard a satisfied grunt from her and you drew your legs back eager to help her remove your panties. You bit your lower lip at the tender kiss she planted on your hip bone.

She began to kiss her way down your mound and although you really just wanted her to fuck you, to feel her fingers inside of you, you figured you'd waited this long, might as well let her set the pace.

Her lips brushed along your folds as she settled herself between your legs and that was enough to send a pulse through your core, but you absolutely throbbed as her fingers dug into the tops of your thighs and she pulled herself closer with an eager moan.

You were honestly contemplating begging her to not tease you any longer when her tongue began to trail up and down between your folds, your back bucking off the bed at the sudden sensations coursing through you.

You heard a muffled laugh from between your legs but before you could protest she began lapping up juices that were surely dripping from your core. Despite your intentions your back arched once more and you gripped the sheets tightly in her hands.

"Don't worry, baby," she said, "I'll take good care of you."

You fleetingly considered scolding her for her bravado, but she flicked her tongue upwards and over your clit before latching onto it with her mouth and sucking in a rhythm that urged your hips to roll up into her face further.

You could feel her smiling into you and she was entirely undeterred by your bucking and moving, confidently and easily keeping her mouth centered on you wherever your body took you.

She sucked, licked, and nipped at you in such a skilled way you'd never experienced before. You'd thought you'd had good sex before; evidently you were wrong.

To top it off, the way she moaned and chased you up the bed with a blatant hunger made you feel wanted and desired in a way you'd never felt before either. The way she devoured you, muffled moans sending pleasurable vibrations through your core, head rocking into you and lapping at you as though you were the most delicious thing she'd had made you feel like she'd never wanted anything more.

And when she reached out and laced her fingers of one hand with yours? Your heart melted.

It was blissful in so many ways.

You hadn't even realized she'd removed her other hand from your thigh when you felt her tease your entrance with a finger. A shuddering moan fell from your lips as she gently dipped a digit inside. You threw your head back into the mattress, back arching all over again as she began slipping a second finger inside, stretching you out deliciously as she continued to flick her tongue across your clit.

Her fingers felt just as good inside of you as you'd imagined and before you knew it she was curling her fingers up against your g-spot. You let out a low moan and your hips began rocking against her with greater fervour. She gave your hand a squeeze and you just held on for dear life, clutching her hand as if it was the only anchor holding you here. You reached down with your free hand and gripped her hair, pulling another pleased noise from her.

The pressure building between your core reached a tipping point. You don't even know how many strokes she'd taken - not many at all - when your cries and whimpers got caught in your throat, mouth drawn into a silent 'o' as your hips began to jerk against her as the tension deep inside of you burst. Your sounds eventually caught up with you as several seconds later you finally mustered a cry as you were already well soaking her face.

She stayed with you the whole time, continuing to help you ride out your orgasm and slowing her motions as you gradually came down.

As you fell back into the bed, your limbs and entire body felt so heavy. It's not like you two had been at it for all that long, but you felt so spent. Even as she began to tenderly kiss her way up your body, you couldn't muster up the energy to caress or hold her. You couldn't even open your eyes.

"You are so incredibly beautiful," she whispered into your ear as she settled herself against you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

You still couldn't make a noise or embrace her, you simply let her pull you against her.

"You're incredible. And that was so amazing. I-," she paused. "You're so sexy. All of that is going to be engrained in my mind for a long, long time."

You let your head fall to the side and against hers. She chuckled and kissed your forehead and you became aware of how she was gently thumbing your shoulder as she held you.

"Fuck," you eventually said. You heard her hold back a laugh and you finally opened your eyes to look at her. Her eyes were bright and shimmering as she looked down at you. A lazy, crooked smile crossed your lips as you reached up and pushed her face away playfully. "You are way too pleased with yourself right now," you laughed.

"I'm not!" She protested though she laughed. "I'm just- I'm really happy," she eventually said.

"Yeah?" You chuckled as you pulled her closer and she gladly obliged. You tucked your head under her chin. "Well that makes two of us," you laughed and she kissed the top of your head. You sighed contentedly. "Well now I know what all the fuss is about."

Your eyes opened as you felt her stiffen slightly. She shifted, clearing her throat quietly.

"Hey," was all she said, probably meant to be teasing or warning, but sounding sad instead.

You pulled back to look at her. It was true, the bright, warm smile she'd worn was now faint as she looked back at you. You kissed her softly.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was a funny joke. Not appropriate," you said.

"I just want it to be about us," she said quietly as her gaze fell as she drew small, distracted designs on your collarbone with her finger.

"I know," you agreed in the same tone as you placed a hand on hers and caressed the back of it with your thumb. She kissed your cheek. "Me too. I just - you're good. Extraordinarily good. And, well, the fact fleeting crosses my mind that, you know, how do you get so good? Well, practice makes perfect. So..."

Jessie huffed inaudibly, but you felt the air tickle your skin.

"I know we talked about this," you rushed on. "And I'm not upset. Honestly." You chuckled, hoping to lighten things. "I mean, I'm reaping the benefits here." She cracked a faint smirk, but not exactly what you hoped to see. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay," she relented as she kissed your cheek once more with a soft sigh. "Just as long as you know you're the only one I want."

You nodded, but she must not have been convinced because she carried on.

"Because, if it was anyone else, I would've been down the stairs and out of the building by now. And," she punctuated, "-not that I should say anything- but, I typically don't get undressed. I'm not looking for intimacy or anything like that. But, I want that with you."

You held a hand up to her cheek and ran your thumb softly against her cheekbone.

"And? Do you have that with me?"

She nodded, leaning her head into your palm.

"Yeah. And it's," she trailed off, her gaze falling briefly as she smirked at herself. She looked up at you again. "It's really great."

You held her gaze and inhaled. Your head was swimming with all sorts of thoughts and feelings. A particular set of words sat on the tip of your tongue. She must've noticed.

"What?" She asked with a tender smile. You considered dismissing it, but instead you just gave a gentle shake of your head.

"I'm falling very hard for you, Jessie Fleming."

Her eyes lit up and you watched as she searched yours. In this moment, this woman who was all charm and confidence looked exceedingly vulnerable.

"That's not funny to joke about," she eventually said with a forced smirk and a single, faint laugh.

"Who says I'm joking?" You asked with a soft laugh.

Realization settled in her and she shifted so she was slightly more on top of you.

"Don't joke," she repeated. You held her gaze, laughing quietly again.

"I'm not."

She rolled you fully onto your back again so she was on top of you. Her knee nudged your legs apart and it any other reality you would've been embarrassed at how your core immediately throbbed.

She looked down at you, eyes different than any way you'd seen them before. Darker somehow. But it didn't scare you. It made you want her more.

"You're everything I wanted," she said. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that first day in class." She subtly began to rock against you and your hands began to wander along her back.

"Everybody told me what this was supposed to feel like, but it just never clicked for me before. At all. But," she took a short, stuttered breath as she continued to grind against you and her hand began to travel down your torso. "You have me. You're on my mind all the time. Any time I'm away from you, I'm just reliving past conversations and moment or dreaming up new ones."

She shook her head in mild disbelief. "I've never felt this way," she said as her hand settled between your legs. You were certain there was no way she couldn't feel the heat radiating off of you. And somehow, with every declaration from her you grew wetter and wetter.

"Me neither," you told her. She smiled and ran two fingers through your folds to then tease your entrance - immediately confirming how wet you were - her eyes lit up and her smile turned into a grin.

"You are so gorgeous. And so fucking amazing," she told you in reverie.

Your exhale was unsteady as your center throbbed in want. "Jess," you said; panted even. "I need you."

A sharp gasp escaped you as she slowly sunk two fingers inside of you. Your fingers dug into her skin at how amazing it felt to be filled up by her again. When you opened your eyes once more she was still watching you intently.

"You feel so fucking good," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Mm," she glanced down, slowly drawing her fingers out until they rest at your entrance before pushing in again more swiftly. "So fucking tight."

"Jesus Christ," you said as your hands came to her arms and you clutched them while your head rolled back into the pillow.

"I want you cumming all over my fingers," she told you with quiet assuredness. "Not just tonight. Any and every fucking night you'll let me," she said as she tucked her head down and began to kiss your neck, drawing a shuddering whimper out of you.

"Oh Jess," you moaned as your hips ground into her waiting hand. A shiver ran through you as she breathed against your neck and nipped at you.

"My name sounds so good coming out of your mouth," she praised.

If you had any kind of witty quip, it was immediately extinguished as she began to pump fully and steadily in and out of your hot, wet tunnel. A heady moan worked its way up your throat as she curled her fingers inside of you like earlier, each stroke sending a pulse through you.

You wrapped your legs around her and she began to thrust into you, using her hips to push her fingers deeper and harder into you.

"You look so good underneath me. You're so beautiful," she said as she continued to fuck you and it wasn't long until you could feel your wetness dripping down you and onto the sheets.

You were never overly vocal in bed, especially given the dorm situation and neighbours. But the way her thumb teased your clit and the way her fingers filled you with each stroke, your voice resounded off of the walls of your dorm.

Soon you could feel your core tightening much as it did earlier. You clenched around her fingers as she panted above you. You didn't need to tell her you were close; she fucked you steadily, carrying you over the threshold. Your whole body stiffened, fingers digging sharply into her skin as she groaned in response as you began to convulse around her fingers.

"God, you are so gorgeous cumming in my arms like this," she declared as she continued to pump in and out of you, slowing only when you began to grow slack in her embrace.

"Holy fuck," you eventually panted. She was laying slow, tender kisses along your shoulder as she waited you out.

"Your roommate's not coming back tonight, is she?" She asked.

"No," you said and she cracked a salacious grin.

"Good."

-------

The next morning you awoke. You inadvertently groaned as you shifted. Your body was exhausted. The memories of last night flooded your mind and you glanced over only to see the space next to you unoccupied.

You sat up immediately and your eyes scanned the room for any evidence of Jessie. Her shoes were gone, her clothes. You sat up further as your heart began to thump loudly in your chest and confusion settled over you.

You shook your head with a frown. No. This didn't make sense. Not after everything.

You reached over to grab your phone. As you did, you spied a sticky note on your bedside table.

"I'm a morning person. What can I say! I'm getting us coffee and croissants. I'll be back soon. - J"

The lump in your throat immediately subsided and you released a breath you hadn't known you were holding. You opened your phone to see a text from her as well.

"Just in case you missed the note. I'm getting coffee and croissants. Be back soon, Beautiful."

You laid back on the bed, pulling the sheets up with you and letting out another sigh as your body relaxed once more.

Okay. This made much more sense. It wasn't all a lie.

A short while later you heard the door handle turn and the door was tentatively pushed open a crack. You found yourself smiling immediately as she tip-toed in, her straightening and smiling fully when she saw you were awake.

"Good morning," she greeted as she approached with said coffee and baked goods in hand.

"You're lucky, Fleming," you teased as you rolled onto your side as she set everything down. "I was about to lose it until I saw your note."

Jessie gave you a teasing look as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She spoke, unbothered, "Waking up next to a beautiful woman who I think is amazing? Yeah, I am lucky."

You chuckled as she kissed your forehead. "Well, I didn't get that luxury. Just a cold and lonely bed," you teased.

"I get antsy once I'm up. I didn't want to wake you," she explained. You pulled her in for a kiss.

"Fine. I forgive you."

Jessie smiled, returning your kiss. "Thank you. And, mmm, morning breath."

"Oh my God," you gasped, mortified as you swatted at her, only causing her to laugh. She leaned back in, pushing you down onto the bed with a kiss.

"Hey, I don't mind. I want you, morning breath and all," she chuckled.

"You better," you grumbled good-naturedly as she continued to kiss you. Her hand began to wander and you knew very well what she'd find.

"Mm, and it seems like you want me, too," she grinned. You chuckled, but rolled your hips into her hand.

"Coffee's not the only way to wake me up."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #woso smut

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kmt123whatsthetea · 5 months ago

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Official Business

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @mytrinityphelps

Request: “Office sex with coworker Fred Weasley (and him wearing glasses)”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm sorry it's taken so long to actually start and upload. But it never slipped my mind. This might just be my longest fic yet, so I hope it's actually enjoyable. I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot about the glasses request and I’m so sorry. I reread the request and went “mentioning glasses once might not cover it”. I’m sorry

T/W: Unprotected sex, Office banter, Blowjob, Nearly caught, Belly bulge,

What could you say about working as an Auror?

It was a decent job with decent pay, the hours were your casual 9 to 5 with weekends off.

Oh, and there was your coworker Fred. He wasn't the most serious guy, having left his job at a joke shop for better pay to keep his business up and running.

He was tolerable, unlike some of the other stuffy old workers who were seemingly glued to their desks. He was a little older than you with a ginger mop of hair and glasses that framed his deep brown eyes. He was friendly, always offering to bring you a morning tea and coffee personally instead of relying on the house elves. He even bought you a small owl ornament for your desk to commemorate your first year anniversary of working there.

Maybe you liked the flirty banter more. How during lunch breaks he’d comment about how you looked better than any dessert ever could, and that he looked forward to your smile more than any monthly wage slip. He really knew how to make your day brighter.

When he noticed the blush that spread across your cheeks in response to his teasing, he took a step up. Some of your favorite comments of his all shared a similar trait. They made you want to jump his bones. It was impossible not to when he spoke the stuff of wet dreams in that soft teasing tone.

“Your lipstick looks pretty, I wonder how it would look trailing down my chest”

“Looks like you’ve had a heavy workload today. Here I’d hoped you could take heavy loads, baby”

“You look tired, you’d sleep a lot better in my bed”

Oh, he was really trying to rile you up. And it was working like a charm.

Working overtime wasn’t rare in this line of work. Desk jobs always had their fair share of paperwork pile ups. Most workers left it till the next day or took it home to complete when possible. You only had a bit of work left and decided to stay to avoid the unnecessary task of homework.

One thing that caught you off guard was that Fred hadn’t said goodnight to you like he usually did before leaving. He did it every night. Was he angry at you? Had you said the wrong thing?

The thought stung a little, but you could always ask him about it the next morning.

Half an hour into your work was enough for a tea break. It wasn't procrastination if it counted as hydrating. Heading along the familiar hallway was second nature for you, but stopping dead was new. In the vast rows of desks, was a familiar ginger mop of hair. Was Fred Weasley staying late?

You made your way downstairs, an idea in mind.

Fred hated staying late. He hated this job. He had only taken it for some extra income towards the joke shop. He took the 9 to 5 job due to Georgie and Angelina expecting their first. At least if he was running the shop, he could be more lenient with trips to St Mungos. He still had a whole 3 hours worth of work to get through just to catch up. How people did this full time, he didn't know.

The approach of heels made him keep his head down, thinking it was some higher up reader to scold him for not taking the job seriously. But when a mug of coffee was placed before him, his head soon whipped up. There you were, like an angel in his time of need. You somehow looked perfect, like you weren't working overtime from an 8 hour shift. Instead of reaching for the mug handle, he reached for your hand in a tender grip.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know.

Your thumb trailed over his knuckles softly, a soft yet teasing smile on your face.

“I guess you owe me then”

That brought a smile to his face, giving your hand a tug causing you to fall onto his lap. You laughed softly, your hands finding his shoulders. This was his usual flirting to the max. But what was the harm in a bit of teasing?

“Give it your best shot, Weasley”

Knowing Fred in the capacity that you did, you should have known that he wouldn't take it as harmless teasing. He took it as a challenge.

His other hand found your cheek, pulling you closer to press his lips to yours in a kiss that seemed almost desperate. He let go of your wrist in favour of holding your waist to keep you steady on his lap. His lips pressed harder against yours, like a kiss along could merge your bodies. He wanted to be closer to you. He seemed confused when you got off of his lap, trying to hold onto you tighter, but his confusion turned into shock when you lowered yourself between his spread legs. He couldn't help his excitement as he practically ripped his belt off.

“You’re really gonna suck my dick? Sweetheart, you’re something else. Most girls would complain about ruining their lipstick, but you love being a dirty little office slut, don't you?”

He groaned when you pressed a kiss to his bulge in response before your hand took over, palming him teasingly. Your fingers tugged his zipper and fumbled with his button before his boxers came into view, and they were pulled down even quicker. Fred reached into his boxers, pulling his cock out. It stood tall before your face, his shaft veiny and girthy. The curtains definitely matched the drapes when it came to his pubes.

“Are you always this hard, Fred, or does a bit of kissing turn you on?”

He chuckled, his hand cupping your jaw to pull you closer.

“I'm always hard for you, I just don't show it as blatantly as you do. I knew how wet you got for me. I wonder if you ever played with yourself in the bathrooms thinking of me…or did you just finger yourself under your desk while I told you how pretty you looked every morning?”

That blush that filled your cheeks when he spoke, that's what he loved most about you. How that small tint of pink made you irresistible. How naturally it did.

His thumb caressed your blushing cheek, it was the result of him after all. Little did he know, it was all for him. You’d give all of yourself to him.

Your tongue gave his tip a gentle prod, reveling in his hiss at the touch. He sounded beautiful with every response, but those you drew from him were your favourite. Your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling softly. Fred stifled his moans, bringing his tie to his mouth and biting it to keep himself quiet from any other late workers. You looked up at him through your lashes, the sight making you wetter. Fred was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, his face nearly as red as his hair and his tie tucked between his lips while his cock throbbed for attention. He was like fine art.

Your lips returned to his cock, your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in your throat. His eyes bugged out when he felt your mouth take him deeper. But it was all cut short at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Fred pulled the tie from his mouth and nudged you gently, his voice merely a hushed whisper.

“Sweetie, stop. Someone, fuck…someones coming”

His hands ushered towards the underside of his desk making sure you were tucked in before pulling his chair up and trapping you between his legs. The footsteps stopped by his desk, one of your colleagues commenting on how he was here late, making some joke about his allergy for work slowly being cured. Fred could only nod along, his mind still in panic mode from nearly being caught getting sucked off by a coworker. You, on the other hand, took delight in how the tables had turned. It was your turn to tease him.

You leaned your face closer to his cock, sliding your tongue along his shaft and tracing his veins. You could hear his groan which he quickly covered up with a coughing fit. You could hear the coworker checking on him and patting his back, but you didn't give him a reprieve. Your lips circled his tip, suckling gently. Your coworker ran off, something about getting some water for Fred. He pulled his chair back and helped you out from under the desk.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have time”

He pulls his shirt over his erection and drags you by the hand, along the hallway and to the small utility cupboard that housed quills and inks. He pushed you in first and followed you inside, muttering a few enchantments under his breath. He had to make sure no one would hear you two and most importantly, that no one would try and open the door.

His hands wrapped around your waist like a python, pulling you into him. You pulled your pencil skirt up, hooking your leg over his hip. You dropped your voice to a sultry whisper.

“Then you better not waste anymore time, Fred”

His hand slithered between your bodies, pulling up your pencil skirt and tugging your panties aside. He practically growled at how wet you were, his fingers soaked from that brief touch. He couldn't wait any longer. He lined his tip with your entrance and pulled your hips, sliding you down his cock. You let out a relieved moan, grateful for Fred’s enchantment. His cock was buried so snug inside of you, every clench around his thickness felt like he could break you.

You risked a glance down and the sight of his cock causing your belly to bulge made you whimper. Just the sight alone caused that band to tighten. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pressing needy kisses to his lips. Fred pulled his hips back and thrust back into you, wanting to be as deep inside of you as he could. He wondered what it would be like to cum inside of you, painting you deep inside, but he didn't want to push his luck. There was plenty of time, and there was no way he’d have that much fun in an office storeroom. If it took, that would be a terrible place to conceive.

He licked along your bottom lip, his pace never slowing.

“I'm close, sweetie. Cum on my cock, make a mess”

His hand moved back between you both, desperate fingers circling your clit in tight, quick circles. He could feel your grip on his shoulders tighten, your eyes rolling back in bliss as you clamped down on his cock. A pornographic moan ripped itself from your throat as your juices coated his shaft. You were so warm and tight, that he contemplated just throwing all care out the window but instead he groaned and pulled out, his hand wrapping around his dick and pumping fervently.

His cum painted your bunched up skirt, leaving a sticky stain on the grey fabric. You didn’t call him out on it in your blissed out state, only noticing when you slowly came down. Even then, it was just a skirt. It was worth it.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll buy you a new skirt if I have to. Maybe some pretty lingerie as well”

His signature smirk returned as he whispered in your ear.

“But then again, I’d prefer you naked”

#fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley

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yurifan000 · 1 year ago

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pt.2 to my angsty loser!ellie drabble 𝜗𝜚

nsfw! ellie gets caught and that’s literally it. i hate this so bad but it’s whateva

(part 3 will have lesbian gay lesbian boob vagina butt sex i promise. no more ellie masturbating)

find pt.1 here! & pt.3 here :3

daily click! don’t buy tlou free palestine

after ellie’s pathetic masturbation sesh, she vowed to herself to fucking pull it together.

she wasn’t gonna let herself mope over you, because she knew you had an active sex life. she forced herself to be fine with it. to be fine with the people you decided to bring to your bed. she wanted to be near you without feeling this suffocating feeling of yearning and lust filling her insides.

and if that meant tucking her feelings to the deepest pits of hell, then so fucking be it.

a few weeks had passed since that little moment you and ellie had. the one where she had showed up to your house in the middle of you hooking up with someone.

the morning after, she has awoken to a string of texts from you, all apologizing for that awkward moment.

11:34pm

ellie i’m so sorry you had to see me like that. i didn’t mean to come off rude.

i wanted to go after you but i couldn’t really leave her alone in my house lol

els?

i’m really sorry. i hope u don’t think you can’t come to my house ever again ☹️ i actually thought it was sweet you showed up like that.

2:12am

goodnight ellie. i hope things aren’t awkward between us.

god, you made her feel awful. you were too fucking sweet to her. the way you never missed a single night when telling her goodnight, even after something like that. she rubbed her swollen face, mainly from crying, and typed a short message to you.

9:47am

hey, sorry for rushing away like that. idk why i did that lmfao

and things aren’t awkward at all, i shouldn’t have just showed up unnanounced

no els seriously! you should do that more often. tbh i wanted to hang out with you more than that girl… but yk i couldn’t 💔💔

she smiled at your kind text, glad that you two could just put it behind yourselves. her moment of relief was quickly replaced by disgust, when she saw the state of herself and her bed. her inner thighs sticky with dried cum, and her sheets below her still damp with all the extra release.

“gross..” she mumbled to herself, getting up and immediately throwing on some boxers and a tshirt, feeling way too vulnerable being naked like that. she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, then threw her sheets in the wash.

since then, you two have been fine. you do your weekly hangout sessions, where you grab food and talk about anything for hours on end. it’s almost as if nothing happened.

until one of your sleepovers.

you always convinced ellie to spend the night at your house, at least every other week. whenever it’d get dark outside and ellie would start to get up, you’d give her that irresistible pout and “ughhh, c’mon els.. just spend the night. it’s too dark out for you to go home.”

and every damn time, she agreed. how could she ever say no to you?

one night, you and ellie are high out of your minds, talking about god knows what. all giggly and soft, you two exchange jokes and stories that really make no sense. but, to you two, it’s the funniest thing in the world. after a laughing fit between the two of you, you wipe your tears and sigh.

“god, i love you.”

you say, still catching your breath from that tummy tensing laugh. the words were just an expression of admiration for her. but to ellie, they were so much more.

“i love you too.”

she says, looking you in the eyes. she’s high, so she’s not thinking too hard about how sincere she sounds. but she really should’ve, because that soft tone of her voice and the glint in her eyes make it sound way too fucking real.

“woah,” you let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “that was a bit theatrical.”

“wh..what do you mean?”

ellie asks, getting a bit nervous. she’s not her usual, stuttery self though. she keeps it together. thanks to the weed.

“just the way you said i love you. it felt like… deep.”

you move your hands as you talk, and ellie just shrugs. but she knows she’s fucked. before she could stop her feelings from resurfacing, she gets that familiar tingle in her belly and pounding of her heart.

“shut up,” she rolls her eyes, trying to play it off.“you’re dramatic.”

her voice wavered with those last words. fuck, her voice wavered. why did she feel like she was gonna have a breakdown any second now? she had to get the hell away from you.

“gotta piss. be back in a bit.”

ellie says quickly, so quick you don’t even have time to retort to her calling you dramatic. you just sit there, confused. you could’ve sworn you heard some uncertainty in her voice, but you let her go.

meanwhile, ellie made a beeline for your bathroom. she shut the door and leaned her head against the wood. she let out a deep sigh, trying to calm herself. the fact that she felt the most intense feeling that she couldn’t even describe over a mere “i love you” had her cringing.

she just couldn’t get over you. the entire night, she tried her best not to think about how good your tits looked in your pajama top, or how badly she wanted to just shove her face into your ass in those little shorts.

her thinking over these details led to the predicament that she’s in right now. sweatpants around her knees, legs slightly spread as she rubs one out while leaned up against your bathroom sink. her eyes are shut and her head is thrown back, letting out the quietist grunts she could muster.

she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she promised herself that she would stop. but god, you made it hard. she was so wet, it made her cheeks flush red. the simple thought of you had her literally dripping around her own fingers.

you were still in your room, biting your thumbnail as you wait for ellie. you start to get worried, thinking you made her upset by commenting on how she said ‘i love you’. so, you being the thoughtful friend you are, go to check on her.

you quietly walk to the bathroom, putting your ear against the door. you were going to knock and mutter a little “els? are you okay?”, but the sounds you heard made you lose all the words in your mouth.

soft, sharp inhales and tiny sticky noises is all you can hear through the door. it’s a bit hard to listen to, since the soft buzz of the yellow light in there overpowers it. what the hell is she doing in there?

you knew this was wrong. an invasion of privacy to the max. but your curiosity was getting the better of you, and you were worried. you put your hand on the doorknob and slightly twisted it, not expecting it to open. but it did.

did ellie forget to lock the door?

ellie doesn’t hear the soft click of the door opening, too lost in her own pleasure as she practically humps her own hand. it had been too fucking long since she could touch herself to the thought of you. her only guilty pleasure.

her head was still thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed her clit at a shockingly fast pace. and you saw it all. you had opening the door just enough for half of your face to see through the opened crack. your whole body froze at the sight in front of you.

she was so captivating. her face looking all fucked out, her pale thighs that were so tensed up, the shininess of her slick that smeared on the heel of her palm. even the quick glimpses of her gorgeous auburn bush that you could see if her hoodie rode up enough.

your tummy felt weird. first, you felt guilty for eavesdropping on your best friend. second, you were confused why the fuck ellie decided now would be the best time to masturbate. third, you were turned on. disgustingly turned on, at that.

a few seconds of watching ellie made your panties get all sticky and wet, and that burning hot feeling in your lower belly. you couldn’t look away.

“ohh, fuck— please,”

your brain short circuited hearing ellie say that. god, she was so lost in her own pleasure. so lost that she accidentally knocked over your toothbrush and hand soap on the sink, causing her to jolt and snap her eyes open.

she looks down at the bottle of soap and toothbrush that landed in front of the bathroom door. the door that’s cracked. her eyes shoot up, and there’s where she sees a glimpse of you running away. a quick flash, but she knew it was you.

she is so fucked.

I HATE RHISNSO BAD RRRR😡

btw i finished this literally like 3 days ago and didn’t wanna post it hut i did anyway ☺️☺️

#dolly’s stuff 𝜗𝜚 #ellie williams #tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #lesbian #tlou part 2 #abby smut #abby anderson smut #the last of us #i don’t like this #rushed lol

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