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#this is like a month or a couple months after they get together and they are already sharing obi-wan's flat
wosohours · 2 days
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i missed you - alexia putellas x reader
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Alexia arrived at training in a sour mood with a pout on her face, the same pout that had been seen on her face frequently throughout the last three weeks.
“What’s wrong Capi? Your girl still hasn’t come back yet?” Mapi teased when she saw Alexia’s face. Alexia roller her eyes slightly shoving Mapi out of the way to get to her locker, “No, she will be there for four more days.” she sighed.
You had been gone for almost a month on a business trip out of the country. This is the longest you and Alexia have been apart since you two got together four years ago. Even when Alexia had to travel for major tournaments or national camp you would always try to be present at the games. Although this time it was you who was away and Alexia could not just ditch training and games to be with you.
Hence the reason for the almost permanent pout being stuck on the Catalan woman’s face for three weeks. Of course this is not the first business trip you have ever been on or the first time you and Alexia have been away from each other for a while, but being gone for more than a couple of days started to take a toll on Alexia. Little did she know it was starting to take a toll on you as well but with being constantly busy working you tried not to think about it as much.
Alexia did not want to seem clingy, obsessed, or act like she was heavily dependent on you, but to go from being attached to the hip everyday with someone to them not being around at all kind of threw her off a bit.
She did not realise how involved you were in each other’s daily lives and routines. Going to sleep and waking up alone sucked. Brushing her teeth alone was boring. Showering alone, of course, sucked. The first week you were gone she kept accidentally making two cups of coffee. She even tried to make the breakfast you make for her the same way, but it just did not taste right.
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“The days will pass by soon, just think of it as…four more sleeps,” Patri chimed in across the room. “Yeah, four more ‘sleeps’ alone,” Alexia sulked, lacing up her boots.
“Okay Ale no more pouting, time to train,” Mapi walks over pulling Alexia up from her seat.
During training, Alexia was usually able to turn her brain off and do what she needed to do, but since her normal routine has been flipped upside down all this time and the anticipation of seeing you again weighed heavy on her might, she could not help but get distracted.
So much so that the amount of passes, easy shots, and penalties she was missing earned her concerned glances from her teammates and staff. Alexia understood their concern, they had El Clásico coming in two days, and messing up on easy drills was not looking good.
So she pushed through the rest of practice, showered, did her recovery, and left towards her car so she could get home and call you.
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When Alexia arrived home she immediately jumped in bed and called you on FaceTime, “Hola bebé, I miss you so much.”
“Hola mi amor, I miss you too. How was training?” You asked her while propping your phone up so you two could see each other better.
Alexia groaned and smashed her head into your pillow before she looked up again, “It was terrible bebé I was missing everything, and on one of the set pieces I kicked the ball at Mapi’s back, and this time it wasn’t on purpose.”
That got a loud laugh out of you and Alexia thought about how she could not wait to hear it in person again. After you stopped laughing Alexia asked you about your trip and how work was going. You told her how great it was, how much fun you were having, and how special it was for you to be in the leadership position of the project.
“ I am very proud of you mi amor no one deserves this more than you and clearly the company thinks the same,” she told you with a small yawn.
“Thank you, baby. I appreciate it. Though I thought about you a lot, and it also made me think that maybe we needed this,” you said, causing Alexia’s eyes to shoot open.
Before she could respond you continued, “I know you are about to jump to conclusions but I mean that it is a good and healthy thing for our relationship. You know the saying ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder.’ It made me stop and think about how much I love and appreciate you and the love that we have for each other.”
“You’re right, I didn’t think that far into it. I just thought about how much I miss you and that I can’t wait to have you by my side again.” Alexia replied, fighting to keep her eyes open.
“I’m going to let you sleep now, I love you and see you in a couple of days.” you told her. Alexia blew you a kiss through the phone, “I love you too, see you in four days.”
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You had told Alexia the truth about how you had been thinking about her a lot. You two were very independent people when you first started dating and even now four years later, but in the last couple of months something had shifted between you and now you could not get enough of each other.
Now where you did not correct her was when she said “...see you in four days.” You were already at the airport staying in one of those convenient airport hotels waiting to get on your flight leaving for Barcelona in just a couple of hours. You texted Alba and Eli and told them your flight information letting them know what time you would be landing. Alba had agreed to pick you up and Eli would be sort of distracting Alexia from thinking of you all day.
The plan was to get to Barcelona a day early and stay with Alba so you could rest and the next day you would be attending El Clásico with the plan of surprising Alexia.
Checking the time on your phone you realize that you should get some sleep to prepare for your long travel day.
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“Hola hermanaaa,” Alba cheered as you walked out of the airport with your luggage. “Hola Alba,” you laugh, letting go of your suitcases to give her a big hug.
“We have all missed you so very much, mami is making us all have dinner together at her place tomorrow so that we can all catch up and you can tell us about your trip,” she says, grabbing one of your suitcases and putting it in her car.
“That sounds great. I missed you all as well, your mama's cooking even more though,” you laugh as she rolls her eyes.
You both finally sit in the car and start the drive to Alba’s apartment, where you will be catching up on some sleep until the game tomorrow.
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“Do you need a shirt or did you already pack ten for your trip?” Alba joked as you two started getting ready for the game. You were texting Alexia your usual, “Good Morning,” so that she would not get suspicious when you looked up hearing Alba speak.
“Haha, you’re so funny, but no I already have one,” you say, showing her the jersey with Alexia’s name and number on the back.
“Ouu and a special game worn one at that. I should’ve known, you are never without one,” she teases, shaking her head.
“I’m done getting ready. Are you ready to go now?” you ask, making Alba nod and grab her bag and keys so that you two can leave.
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As you two were making your way to the entrance of the stadium you spotted Alexia and Alba’s mother and uncle already standing there waiting for you two. Everyone exchanges greetings and hugs before heading to their seats.
While you and Alexia’s family made small talk waiting for the game to start, Alexia was sitting in the locker room getting ready thinking about how this was the first El Clásico you would miss since you two got together.
“Are you ready Ale?” Mapi asked. Alexia looked up and gave her a nod and a small smile. Before Alexia could tie her boots she received a text notification from you.
“Don’t worry I’m watching. You’ll be great. I love you.”
She texted back, “Thank you. I love you more.”
This relaxed her a bit. Knowing that even though you were not physically here you would always support her no matter where you were. With that small boost of reassurance, Alexia stood up and clapped to get her team’s attention so that she could give her speech before the game.
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When the girls started walking out you and everyone else stood up and started cheering. You were hoping to get Alexia’s attention but you know that she was focused on the game. The start of the game was entertaining as usual with both teams doing their best to score early and gain a lead, but with both teams holding their own it was 0-0 by the time half-time came.
As the girls were walking back to the locker room you and Alexia’s family tried once again to get her attention since you knew Alexia usually looked up at the family section when half-time was called. Sure enough, she heard her name being called and looked up to see her family there with you standing and cheering right next to them like you always did.
She could not believe that you were here when she was sure that you still had four more days of work in a whole different country. After she shook the disbelief off of her face she waved at all of you and slyly blew a kiss in your direction, which you pretended to catch.
In the locker room, Alexia could not hide the smile on her face. “Did you see your girl in the stands Capi?” Patri asked, grabbing her shoulder slightly, shaking her. “Looks like she couldn’t wait to see you either, Ale,” Mapi said, making Alexia blush.
After the half-time break was over the girls went back out with a little more fire earning them a goal from Frido, Aitana, and Caroline. Two goals being assisted by Alexia. Ending the game at 3-0.
Since the game was over the team did their rounds taking pictures and signing autographs. Alexia looked up at her family and nodded her head in the direction of the tunnel signaling them to make their way down there. Once Alexia was done she made her way to the tunnel and met with her family and she gave everyone hugs and kisses until she got to you.
“Oh mi amor I missed you so much, I can’t believe you here right now,” Alexia says pulling you into a tight hug laying kisses all over your face and the side of your head. “I also can’t even believe that you kept a secret from me, usually you spill faster than Mapi,” she teased, tickling your sides.
You laughed moving away from her a bit just for her to pull you back in, “I know it took a lot of willpower for me not to just give up and tell you, but when have I ever missed an El Clásico?” you asked her, holding her face in your hands.
“Never,” Alexia answered with a big smile.
“Okay, we know you too are in love and all, but Ale please go take a shower so that we can go eat,” Alba tells her. Eli softly slaps Alba on the arm and pulls her away.
“Yea go shower you stink, I will wait right here,” you tell her. Alexia rolls her eyes and nods before laying a soft kiss on your lips before going back into the locker room to take a shower.
____________________
You ended up riding back to Eli’s house with Alexia where you let her tell you all about the game, even though you were there. Her hand on your thigh the whole ride, you both stealing kisses at every red light. She thought she was slick taking the long way there but you had noticed and you were okay with it.
When you finally made it to the house, Eli was still finishing dinner so everyone sat around the kitchen and talked to keep her company while she finished. As dinner was served you started telling them all about your trip and the project you were working on. The whole time Alexia was not able to take her eyes and hands off of you, but it did not bother you because you were acting the same.
After dinner you all sat around the living room talking some more when Alexia whispered in your ear, “Are you ready to go home?” You nod your head and kiss her cheek.
When finished making your rounds to say goodbye to everyone and thanking Eli for the delicious dinner, you and Alexia head home.
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When you two walk through the doors of your shared home Alexia pulls you into her arms and says, “I am never letting you out of my sight again.”
“I am so okay with that,” you reply, shoving your face in her neck to lay small kisses.
“Now let’s go to sleep, I know you miss me laying on top of you like your personal weighted blanket,” she says, making you laugh and follow her to the bedroom.
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note: not sure i really like this 💀
also, i fight for my life not to say “yall” at least 20+ times
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wosoluver · 3 days
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Oh, baby
Georgia Stanway x reader.
I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!
Other players masterlist
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"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.
"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.
That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.
A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?
Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?
You started to cry immediately.
"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."
"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."
"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."
"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."
She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.
You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.
You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.
You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.
You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.
A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.
And you both finally managed to start your life together.
She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.
From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.
And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.
It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.
But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.
You didn't expect for it to work so soon.
Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.
Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.
You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.
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Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.
She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.
She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.
And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.
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"Just one more push, yeah?"
And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.
You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.
But you couldn't, yet.
"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.
"Is the game over yet?"
"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.
You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.
ongoing call...
"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."
before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.
"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.
"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.
"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.
"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."
And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.
"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."
"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.
"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."
"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."
"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."
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Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?
like & share pls!
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clrasecretdiary · 2 days
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I do, I do, I do | Spencer Reid x Reader
In which spencer proposes to you.
Absolutely tooth rotting fluff
Contents: Head over heels spence, pet names (honey, angel, darling...)
Warning: none!
a/n: title is a reference to "helpless" from Hamilton & there's a scene inspired by "the tortured poets department" (can u tell I love music?). This is my favorite fic I have ever written.
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You and Spencer have been dating for 5 years now and, since last year, the team had begun asking the two of you - especially Reid - when were you guys going to “tie the knot”. You and Spencer had talked about it, both agreeing that you both did want to get married, but we’re not in a rush.
Now, you’re at Spencer's house getting ready for one of Rossi's famous dinners. When you look through the mirror, you see Spencer leaning against the door, watching you getting ready while he cuffs the sleeves of his black button-up shirt.
“You’re looking divine angel”
“Thank you honey” You say, turning to him “By the way, this is your last chance to kiss me, unless you also want to wear some red lipstick to Rossi’s”
He giggles, giving you a quick peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom to let you finish getting ready.
Later that night, you, Spencer and the rest of the team are all sitting at the dining table, talking and laughing. This is one of those few, but extremely special moments in which you guys forget all the horrors that happen at work and just are happy together.
You’re in an extremely exciting talk with Garcia about the latest fashion news, a topic that both of you really loved when you feel Spencer playing with your hands, something he usually did, so you did not pay much attention to it. But, at a point you felt him place the small ring he sometimes wore on your finger, specifically your left ring finger, the one you put wedding rings on. When you looked down at it, your heart almost stopped.
He leaned closer to whisper in your ear “It looks perfect on you” and then took it off, continuing to talk to Morgan about… Something. If you were to be honest, after that, you spaced out for a couple seconds, your heartbeat seemed so loud that it replaced all the other sounds around you.
2 months later, you’re remembering this moment as you get ready for a very suspicious dinner date with Spencer. Since what happened on Rossi's get together, you knew he was thinking about it and started your detective work to try and figure out when it might happen.
You had asked - no, begged Morgan and Penelope for any kind of clue. It's not that you wanted to know exactly when and where, you just needed a clue to know how to prepare yourself. After a while, you just gave up and decided to let it happen.
You became suspicious when Spencer asked Hotch for you both to have a day off, something you both rarely requested. He also bought you a Vivienne Westwood dress you had been eying for years now.
“Spencer Reid, you did not. Oh my god you're crazy” You said as you opened the box
“Did you like it?”
“Are you kidding? I love it, thank you so much” You say, leaning in to embrace him in a tight hug
“Maybe I can take you to dinner this Saturday, and you can wear it” He says between giggles because of how wide your smile was, oh how he loved pampering you.
“Sounds perfect honey”
Now, finally the day you had been so excited for. Could Spencer just have felt like giving you the dress? Yes, but for some reason you felt there was more to it. Maybe the way he spent the whole day trying to hide how nervous he is, the way he’s letting you take your sweet time getting ready, saying things like “don’t rush honey” or the mysterious call he received from Morgan earlier that day but you were sure something was going to happen.
You finish getting ready and get into the car with him, he’s showering you with compliments the whole way. When he stops the car something is off, this is not a restaurant, in the dark you can’t really make out where you are but it seems familiar.
He gets out of the car, going around and opening the door for you, helping you get out. He walks you to the entrance of the place and opens the door that you now have recognized to be the library you two loved and also the place we’re he finally asked you out on a date after years of secretly-not-so-secretly being in love with you. Only now, there was a small round table there, with lit candles and a table set for two.
The shock made you not realize that Spencer had now let go of your hand, as you look to your side, you're met with your boyfriend down on one knee and a small velvet box in his hand.
“Honey, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. You’ve been my best friend, the best thing that ever happened to me, you make all the crazy stuff we go through easier, because we’re goin through it together. There’s no one I would rather live life with than you, so will you marry me?”
“Spencer..” That’s the only thing you manage to say, shocked and feeling a kind of happiness you never experienced before. “Of course I will. Oh my god I love you so much” You say, pulling on his arm so he stands up and you kiss him deeply. Feeling an amount of love you never thought was possible.
Once you pull away, he places the delicate ring on your hand and kisses you again. And all you can think is how you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.
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one day x lando norris pt 4
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this is a part of my series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and lando's lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. ofc not a smooth ride with some angst and fights along the way. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. read first part here pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of this part: y/n attending lando's first home race in f1, but her expectations weren't really met warnings: kinda sad :( wc: 1,4k a/n: probably a couple of sad parts now in this series but bear with me!! a one day -series can't only be rainbows and butterflies hehe
summer of 2019
Silverstone Circuit, England
y/n was beyond excited getting her invite from lando to attend his first ever home race in f1. she couldn’t believ that the random boy she had met a few years ago now was one of the top twenty drivers in the world. seeing her best friend advancing in the sport truly made her proud, who would’ve thought he’d be going this far? since day one she had always supported her friend both on track and at distance, nowadays most through late night facetime calls as she was still in Edinburgh studying and Lando traveling all around the world. 
however, now after being months apart the pair would finally meet again and oh my, was she excited!! she couldn’t help but smile sitting in the taxi on her way to silverstone, headphones in listening to her and landos shared playlist. she fiddled with her mclaren paddock pass that already, proudly, was hanging around her neck, closely reading (for maybe the hundredth time) that all the personal information was correct, it would be just typical lan to spell something wrong and causing her trouble. as soon as the paddock pass had arrived in the mail at her uni dorm she had started planning her outfit, carefully picking out clothes and accessories that would perfectly match the colours on the pass. as the self-conscious being she was, she wanted to be prepared, not wanting to make a fool of herself or lando by turning up as a girl who didn’t look like she belonged there.  
now she was sat stroking her new white dress, contemplating whether it was too boring or too much, and what would lando think, would he like it? and why didn’t she take the other dress instead, it would have looked much better! her mind was racing, overthinking every little thing that came to mind and her worries quickly aggravated looking outside the cab window at all the beautifully looking fans that stood waiting outside the paddock hoping to see their favourite drive appear from one of the taxis. oh well, she thought, there’s nothing i can do about it now. she took a deep breath before exiting the car, shyly walking toward the entrance where she blipped her paddock pass and quickly rushed away headed towards the big mclaren sign in the distance. overwhelmed by the situation she just wanted to see lando, knowing that his presence would calm her nerves.
after some walking she finally arrived at the mclaren hospitality, almost immediately spotting jon, lando’s trainer. ”hi we’ve only seen each other through facetime but i’m y/n l/n, landos friend”, she said approaching jon. ”oh hello, i thought i recognized you from somewhere!” he smiled, ”you’re probably looking for lando?”. y/n nodded smilingly. jon looked around a bit worried, telling her that he should be here somewhere but that his schedule had been a bit hectic this race day morning. she was offered to wait in the hospitality while jon was gonna go tell lando that she had arrived. with a good mood she went and grabbed a tea, sitting at a table that overlooked mclaren’s part of the pit lane. 
after scrolling a bit on her phone and texting her friend, she saw in her periphery, more specifically in the garage, a familiar looking boy. he was giving some fangirls a tour around the garage, letting one and one test sit in his car. he looked so happy, being in his element. after a short while jon approached lando, and by his lips y/n could read something about her arrival. landos reaction was cute, he seemed excited that she was there but didn’t seem ready to come meet her just yet. y/n was just glad she had seen him at a distance and didn’t mind waiting for some time longer, she had already waited several months so what harm could another hour do?
if it only had been an hour or two or even three.. patiently she sat waiting, looking at the clock seeing it was nearly time for race preparations. nope, she thought, if she wanted to see him she would need to take it into her own hands, and that’s what she did. confidently she walked the same route she had seen jon take to the garage and after getting lost a couple times she found a visitor friendly spot. at the same place other high paying fans were stood looking at the team doing their pre race preparations. lando, as the kind boy he was, of course greeted the fans and let them take pictures with him. shortly after he spotted y/n who stood with a huge smile and open arms to greet him in an usual hug, but she wasn’t met by the same excitement. a rather cold and quick hug was what she got, from a boy that felt unexpectedly unfamiliar. a bit caught of guard by the reception and embarrassed by the amount of people that had seen this awkward encounter she felt like running far away. somehow she managed to still ask lando if their agreed meetup after the race was still on, to which she received a short ”yeah, sure”. 
stunned from the whole situation she went back up to the hospitality and watched the race in some kind of haze. wtf was that? she didn’t have to be here, lando was the one that invited her there, didn’t some good old kindness include in that package? presumably not then. her thoughts wandered, shocked that the boy she had known for years abruptly was someone totally else, just because they weren’t alone, the two of them, as they usually was. or was she overreacting? maybe it wasn’t that bad. or maybe this was her fault? she could’ve put a bit more makeup on and change the dress so that she would’ve been prettier, maybe that was the problem, that she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in the paddock. 
in the middle of her overthinking someone patted her on the shoulder making her jump of fear out of her seat. ”sorry sorry sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you” a familiar voice half laughed, half tried to sound serious. she turned around meeting a pair of kind brown eyes, it was carlos sainz she remembered, lando’s teammate. ”are you waiting for someone?” he asked. y/n looked at the clock, it was late, somehow she had been thinking about her own problems so long that she hadn’t noticed that the race was done ages ago and that the other hospitality guests had gone home. ”oh yeah, i was waiting for lando, he’s my friend, but i guess he has forgotten about me.. again” y/n said not covering her disappointment very well. carlos smiled compassionately, like he understood, ”i’m sorry.. i remember when i was new to f1, everything’s so new and exciting that sometimes the one’s that has been with you from the start gets left behind..”. ”well, thats assuring” y/n laughed quietly as she felt her eyes tearing up. ”noo sorry, y/n was it? i didn’t mean to upset you, what i meant to say was that in the beginning you get kind of caught up in the fame and girls running after you, but when you settle in to the sport you sooner or later understand who the real one’s are” he said and gently hugged you afterwards. y/n sniffled after the hug ”well i hope so.. this wasn’t at all what i expected from this day” she sighed walking towards the door out of the hospitality. ”i’m certain he will come around, some new drivers take more time than others to realize that all the new attention is just empty and fake, nothing that can compare to a girl that waited the clock around to hopefully see her friend” he smiled trying to cheer y/n up. a small smile cracked on her face as she thanked him whilst they walked out of hospitality together. 
they didn’t have to walk very far before she heard lando’s familiar laugh, y/n turning around to spot lando in the distance, flirting with some very beautiful girls, noticing how he didn’t have a thought in the world about his old friend. she felt her heart sink and eyes tearing up again, was she really that forgettable? if anything, it only confirmed all her self-conscious thoughts. carlos that was walking beside her noticed the same as her and immediately connected his eyes with y/n’s, giving her a compassionate look while hugging her from the side. ”don’t you worry darling, remember my words”
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taglist
@amberpanda99 @phantomxoxo @landossainz @chezmardybum @lan4cha16 @tvdtw4ever @starlit-skiessss @dorothea47
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kiwriteswords · 3 days
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hotchhotchhotch! it's like you write him extra hot - like sriracha hot - bc he's sososo perfect in your writing! can i request the "saying "i love you" for the first time" with shy!reader?
Hi!! Thank you so much!!! This one turned out to be a little longer than a drabble! Hope you like it!!
Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!
Summary: In the high-stakes world of the BAU, you and Aaron Hotchner have shared a quiet, unspoken connection that began as something casual, a way to find comfort amid the chaos. But when a routine case leaves you critically injured, Hotch is forced to confront the depth of his feelings. As he anxiously waits by your side, fearing the worst, Hotch realizes that losing you would break him in ways he never expected.
Word Count: 3.5k
Rating: Technically safe for work, but hints at an intimate relationship.
TW: Canon typical violence, hints at intimacy, angst
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The Fear of Falling
You didn’t expect to get shot.
You were trained for it, prepared to face the worst every day, but no one really expects it. You were in the thick of it, chasing down a suspect with Hotch, when it all went wrong. One minute, you had your eyes on him, and the next, pain exploded through your side.
The world blurred around you as you hit the ground, blood seeping into your clothes, your hands, the dirt beneath you. Voices came through muffled, far-off. It wasn’t until Hotch’s voice cut through the haze that reality started to set back in.
The bullet tore through your side, the pain immediate and searing, but in the chaos of the moment, you didn’t have time to process it. Everything around you was a blur—Hotch’s voice barking orders into his radio, the flashing lights of the ambulance, the sound of footsteps pounding the ground around you.
But one thing was clear: Hotch never left your side.
That had always been his way—quiet, steady, dependable. From the beginning, when whatever this was between you had started, Hotch had been there. It hadn’t been some whirlwind romance, no grand gestures or confessions of love. Instead, it was late nights spent together after a long day in the field, where the lines between work and something more blurred. You’d sit close on the jet, your knees brushing under the table as you discussed case files, or spend hours in quiet conversation that had nothing to do with the cases you worked on but everything to do with understanding each other.
The "fling"—as you had quietly labeled it in your head—started as something small, something easy to dismiss. It had begun in the most unexpected way, during a night at a bar after a tough case. The team had gone home, but you and Hotch had stayed, finding some kind of strange comfort in the shared silence over a couple of drinks. It had been weeks of tension, the unspoken attraction between you simmering beneath the surface, and that night, it finally broke. A lingering glance. A brush of fingers. Then, without thinking, you had leaned in, and so had he.
It was never meant to be serious. Neither of you had said as much, but the understanding was there. Hotch had his demons, and you had yours. He was your superior. The weight of those unspoken boundaries hung between you, even as you’d find yourself alone together, the rest of the world falling away for brief moments. Kisses stolen in the shadows of hotel rooms when the team wasn’t looking. Conversations that lasted too long, with gazes that lingered just a bit more than they should have.
You had agreed to keep things casual. Nothing more than companionship in the midst of the chaos of your lives. Neither of you had the space for something deeper, something permanent. Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves. But as the months went on, the way Hotch looked at you began to shift. You noticed the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way he checked on you after a particularly rough case, or how he lingered at your side just a little longer than necessary.
And somewhere along the way, you had begun to care about him more than you should have. You tried to push it down, to remind yourself that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. But the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to pretend--the more painful it became to pretend. The quiet moments, the subtle touches, the way he said your name—it all added up to something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.
“Stay with me.” He was beside you, his hands pressing against your wound, voice stern but shaking. His brows furrowed, eyes fixed on your injury, but his jaw clenched with something much deeper than concern. You could see it, even in your pain-addled state.
“I’m—” You tried to speak, but it was hard to get the words out. You were used to being quiet, used to keeping your thoughts to yourself. That never seemed to be a problem when you were with Hotch. Silence had become a part of the strange rhythm you had with him, this unspoken understanding between two people who couldn’t find the right words but always seemed to know.
Now, though, you felt the need to fill that silence, to say something, anything.
“It’s okay,” he muttered, “you’re going to be okay.”
The grip of his hands tightened, and in a rare moment, his walls seemed to crack. He wasn’t just your boss here. He wasn’t the stern, unflinching leader of the BAU. He was Aaron—someone who had been carrying something for a while, someone who hadn’t yet spoken all the things he needed to say. Someone you cared about more than you ever let on.
“I’m sorry,” you managed, wincing as a fresh wave of pain surged through you. You weren’t sure why you apologized—maybe for being hurt, maybe for all the times you’d kept quiet when you wanted to say more, or maybe for all the times you felt like you were asking too much of him, even when you hadn’t asked for anything at all.
“Why would you apologize?” His voice was tight, but there was a gentleness in it that you’d rarely heard. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do.”
Hotch rode with you in the ambulance, his hand gripping yours, his jaw clenched tight as he stared down at you, concern and fear etched into every hard line of his face. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the way he was barely keeping it together for your sake. Aaron Hotchner was always the one in control, always the one to keep a level head when everything else was falling apart. But right now, it felt like that control was slipping.
As the paramedics worked on you, you could hear the urgency in their voices. The blood loss, the need to stabilize you—it was all happening too fast for you to grasp. The only constant was Hotch’s presence, his voice grounding you, telling you to hold on.
By the time you reached the hospital, the world was fading in and out. The last thing you saw before you were wheeled into surgery was Hotch standing there, his eyes locked on yours, as if he was afraid to let you go.
Hours passed. Hotch didn’t move from the waiting room.
The sterile hospital air seemed suffocating, the hum of fluorescent lights above adding to the unbearable stillness. Time felt warped—minutes dragged into hours, each second stretching endlessly as he waited. His mind was stuck on one thing: you.
Reid was the first to arrive, his face pale as he walked into the waiting room. He wasn’t good with hospitals, and Hotch knew it. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his bag as he approached. “Hotch,” he said softly, “how is she?”
Hotch didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes fixed on the swinging doors down the hall, the ones that led to the surgical ward. “She’s still in there.”
Reid sat down beside him, the silence between them heavy. Hotch could feel the younger man glancing at him occasionally, probably wanting to say more, but holding back. Reid wasn’t someone who pushed when others needed space. But even his quiet presence wasn’t enough to pierce the fog of worry clouding Hotch’s mind. After a few minutes, Reid left, muttering something about needing to call Garcia for an update.
Hotch barely registered it.
Morgan came next, his energy a stark contrast to the stillness that had settled over the room. He strode in, his expression serious but determined. “How’s she doing, man?”
Hotch shook his head, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “They haven’t told me anything yet.”
Morgan sat across from him, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. “She’s tough. She’s gonna pull through.”
Hotch nodded, but the movement felt mechanical. Empty. His mind was spinning with worst-case scenarios, a constant replay of the moment you went down. The blood. The way your body crumpled. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the memory. He could still feel the warmth of your blood on his hands as he tried to stop the bleeding.
“She’ll make it,” Morgan added quietly, his voice softer now. He was trying to comfort Hotch, trying to be there in the way he always was for the team. But Hotch didn’t have it in him to respond. He barely acknowledged the weight of Morgan’s words before he stood abruptly, pacing to the window.
He stared outside, seeing nothing but the reflection of the waiting room. His reflection. And behind it, Morgan, looking at him with quiet concern. But Morgan didn’t say anything else. After a few minutes, he got up, clapped Hotch on the shoulder, and left, probably to update the rest of the team.
Rossi arrived last. The older man walked in with the calm, steady air that he always carried, but even he couldn’t mask the worry etched into his features. He had been doing this job longer than any of them, and Hotch knew he had seen more than his share of teammates in the hospital. But that didn’t make this any easier.
“How’re you holding up?” Rossi asked, standing beside Hotch by the window.
Hotch didn’t answer right away. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, fingers clenched into tight fists. He stared out at the city below, his jaw working as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “I’m fine,” he finally muttered, his voice tight.
Rossi didn’t buy it, of course. “You’re not fine, Aaron. None of us are when someone we care about is lying on an operating table.”
Hotch flinched at that. Care. The word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. He knew what Rossi was implying—what everyone had probably suspected for a while now. But this wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now.
“I should’ve been faster,” Hotch muttered, his voice barely audible. “I should’ve seen it coming.”
Rossi shook his head. “You can’t think like that. We all know the risks. So does she.”
Hotch clenched his fists tighter, the anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “She’s in there because of me. If I’d been quicker, more careful...”
“She’s in there because it’s the job. You did everything you could.” Rossi’s voice was firm, but it didn’t soothe the guilt gnawing at Hotch’s insides.
The silence stretched between them, and Rossi eventually gave him a small nod before heading out. He knew better than to push Hotch when he was like this. And Hotch knew that, deep down, Rossi was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you were in surgery, and he was standing here, helpless.
The minutes dragged on. He glanced at the clock. Then at the doors. His mind was racing—picturing every possible outcome, every scenario, from best to worst. He had never felt more useless in his life. Out in the field, he knew what to do. There was always a plan, always a course of action. But here? Here, he was just waiting.
And Hotch wasn’t someone who did well with waiting.
He leaned against the window, his hand rubbing his face as exhaustion tugged at him. The pressure in his chest was unbearable. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not after everything you’d been through together—every quiet moment, every glance that spoke louder than words. He had never said it, never admitted how deeply he cared for you. Not to you, not to himself. But now... now he didn’t have a choice.
He loved you.
And if he lost you, he wasn’t sure how he would put himself back together again.
He paced the waiting room some more, his hands running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to lose it. But the image of you lying there, bleeding, the sound of your voice barely above a whisper, haunted him. He could still feel your hand slipping from his grasp as they took you into the operating room.
“Hotch,” Emily said softly, placing a hand on his arm to stop him mid-pace. “She’s strong. She’s going to make it.”
He nodded but didn’t trust himself to speak. What could he say? That he wasn’t strong enough for this? That, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was falling apart?
When he finally sat down, it was with a heavy sigh. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this unhinged, this terrified of losing someone.--Not since Haley.
But you weren’t Haley. You were different.
Haley had been the love of his life—the mother of his child, the person who had seen him through some of his darkest moments. But his love for her had been rooted in something that had bloomed long before the BAU took over his life, before the job hardened him, before the tragedies that followed had changed him. Haley had seen him as a younger man, unburdened by the weight of the world. And even after everything, she had always held a place in his heart.
But you... you were different.
You had become a part of his life without him even realizing it, quietly slipping into the spaces Haley had left behind. At first, he had resisted it. After Haley, he had sworn that he wouldn’t let himself feel that deeply for someone again. The loss had been too great, too painful. He had told himself that he didn’t have time for it, that he didn’t deserve it. His job demanded too much, and he had already paid the price once.
But then there had been you.
Your presence had been subtle, almost imperceptible at first. There were the late-night debriefs after a long case, the quiet conversations in the jet, the moments of silence that somehow felt more comfortable than words. You never pushed, never demanded more than he was willing to give. You didn’t need to. You just were—steady, present, a constant in his life that had become more and more important without him even realizing it.
And now, sitting here, waiting for news on whether you’d pull through, he knew there was no going back. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t push away what had been building between you.
Because somewhere along the way, you had become more than just another colleague, more than just another person he cared about. He wasn’t sure when it had happened—maybe it was during a quiet evening when you had shared a rare laugh, or maybe it was when you had listened to him without judgment after a particularly brutal case. Or maybe it had been a thousand little moments that had piled up until he couldn’t ignore them anymore.
Whatever it was, he couldn’t deny it now.
He was in love with you.
It wasn’t something he had planned, or something he had even wanted at first. But it had crept up on him, slowly and surely, until the thought of losing you terrified him more than he had ever been willing to admit.
He had tried to keep his distance, to keep things professional. After all, what business did a man like him have getting involved with someone like you? He was too old, too broken. You deserved someone who wasn’t carrying the kind of baggage he did. But every time he was near you, every time you smiled or laughed, or even just sat quietly with him in comfortable silence, it chipped away at the walls he had so carefully built.
And if something happened to you—if he lost you now—he wasn’t sure he could survive it.
It had been so easy to fall for you. Too easy.
Now, he was terrified that he’d never get the chance to tell you.
When you finally woke up, groggy from the anesthesia, the first thing you noticed was the stiffness in your side. The second was the sound of steady breathing beside you.
Turning your head slowly, you saw him. Hotch was sitting in the chair next to your bed, looking far more disheveled than you’d ever seen him. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable. He hadn’t left.
“Hotch?” you murmured, your voice weak, but the relief of seeing him made your heart ache.
His head snapped up, and the relief that washed over his face was palpable. He stood immediately, leaning over you, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You’re awake,” he said softly, and you could hear the unspoken worry in his voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” you admitted, trying to give him a small smile, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard. You had been lucky, but the fact that it had come to this—lying in a hospital bed after being shot—felt like a wake-up call.
The bubbling of feelings in your chest out-ached the pain from the bullet. You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t pretend that your feelings for him didn’t run deeper than you ever intended. And you couldn’t ask him to risk his heart again, not after everything he had been through.
“I think...” you started, your throat dry, “I think we should stop whatever this is.”
Hotch blinked, the words seeming to hit him like a physical blow. “What?” he asked, his voice low, like he hadn’t quite heard you correctly.
“I just—” You paused, unsure of how to explain the storm of emotions inside you. “I’ve caught feelings, Hotch. And I don’t think that’s fair. Not to you, not to me. It’s... too much.”
His face hardened, but not in anger. It was the mask he wore when he was trying to keep himself in check, to not let his emotions spill out.
“I don’t want to make things harder for you,” you continued, your heart aching with each word. “I don’t want to ask for more than you can give. I know you’ve already been through enough.”
“You think you’re asking too much of me?” His voice was quiet but firm, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “You’re the one who just got shot, and you think you’re the problem here?”
You tried to sit up, but the pain made you wince, and he was immediately by your side, his hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down. “You don’t understand,” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over now. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did, and now I don’t know what to do because I can’t keep pretending that I don’t care.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. You expected him to walk away, to tell you that this was why he had always kept his distance, why he hadn’t let things get too deep. But instead, he surprised you.
“I love you too.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, his words hanging in the air between you. You weren’t sure you had heard him right.
“I’ve been in love with you for a while,” he continued, his voice rough, as if it hurt him to admit it. “I just... I didn’t think I could ask that of you. I’m not... I’m not the man I used to be, and I thought you deserved more than someone like me. Someone who’s been through what I have.”
You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re everything to me, Hotch. I don’t care about the rest.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. His hand reached for yours, his grip firm but gentle, and the weight of everything unsaid between you seemed to settle. 
“You scared the hell out of me today,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And I realized I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.”
The tears came then, and you didn’t try to stop them. You had been holding back for so long, afraid of what it would mean to let yourself feel this way, to let yourself fall for him. But now, it didn’t matter. He was here. You were both here.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “And neither are you.”
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Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos
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jflemingology · 3 days
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Breaking Point | Jessie Fleming x reader
In which: the stress concerning everything going on with the national team causes Jessie to lash out at you
Warnings: little bit of angst, if you can even call it that? Argument but they make up, fluff at the end :)
WC: 5.3K
A/N: Based on these two requests! Thought they were similar enough to be grouped together. Really enjoyed writing this, it's quite a long one too. Hope you enjoy! <3
Divider: @cafekitsune
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You were just downing the rest of your morning coffee when you heard a notification come through on your phone. The clock read 8am, which meant it was 5pm in France. If you remembered correctly, Jessie had a tactical meeting from 4:30 to 5:30 so it couldn't be her. You made your way over to the couch where you left the device earlier. Your eyes widened upon seeing the headline from CBC News.
"BREAKING: Canada Women's National Team Coach Dismissed From Olympics Amid Drone Scandal"
Your jaw fell slack. You had heard a little something here and there from the spying case, but you didn't know it had gone this far. Jessie hadn't told you much about it either. Despite being in the leadership group now she tried as much as possible to put it next to her – focusing on the controlables; her football.
Being away from Jessie was hard. Your schedules clashed quite frequently; her being away for games or for camps, you being away for business trips with your company. You knew what the downsides were going to be about dating your Canadian, but you wouldn't change it for the world. On moments like this, though, when you knew Jessie was going to be put under enormous loads of stress, you'd much rather be by her side in France than on the other side of the world in Portland.
Jessie was adamant you stayed home. Going with her to France would've meant you giving up on one of your projects you'd worked on the last couple of months, and as much as Jessie would've loved to have you by her side throughout the tournament, she knew that this was important to you.
So here you were, back in your shared apartment in Portland, sat on the couch not knowing what to do. You went over the options in your mind. You could call her, but you didn't know if she was free right now. Texting her seemed a safer option, but maybe she would want to come to you with the news instead of you coming to her about it. So that's what you did, you spent your morning dancing between trying to get some chores done and checking back with your phone if you hadn't magically missed a notification in the last 30 seconds.
After what felt like ages, just as you were about to take a shower – you'd contemplated it for a good 20 minutes, because what if she called while you were in there –, your phone rang. You sprung up from the side of the bathtub and knocked your elbow against the wall in the process, silently cursing while crossing your bathroom in quick strides.
You grabbed your phone and headed back into your bedroom, accepting the call once you made sure it was your girlfriend who was calling. "Hi," you breathed out as you sat down on the edge of your bed. "Hey baby."
Jessie sounded tired, and you noticed how her voice wavered – despite the effort to conceal it. A silence fell over your conversation, neither of you knowing what to say nor how to tackle the subject at hand. "How are you feeling?"
You tried your luck with an easy question. As far as she knew, you could be talking about how she was feeling after Canada's game against New Zealand yesterday – which they won 2-1. You had stayed up to watch her game, the bags beneath your eyes more than worth it seen as your girlfriend helped Canada win their game with an assist and a great performance.
If she remained silent any longer, you would've thought she had hung up on you, but right on cue Jessie spoke up. "Okay. Could be better. It's been a rocky afternoon," you hummed, acknowledging what she said.
"Is there anything I can do for you?", you knew she would probably say no, but that was Jessie's way of coping. She toughened up, built her walls a little higher than they already were. You had worked really hard over the past three years of your relationship to meticulously tear them down – and most of the time she kept them down around you –, but not everyone was that lucky. Especially in moments like these, stressful situations, you expected her to bring them back up.
"I'm fine," she quipped back. It came out quite harsh, and it left you a little taken aback. You bit back a disappointing sigh. "I know you are, Jess. You're strong and I know you can handle these situations. But that doesn't mean that you can't talk about it," you knew you were starting to push her, but you also knew that if you didn't, she'd never talk about it and bottle it up until one time it'd explode. You'd been the dupe of that a handful of times, and you knew that you were better off pushing her to say something than letting it get to that stage.
"Babe, I said I'm fine," she paused but you felt like she had more to say, so you didn't counter her. Jessie took a deep breath before she continued. "I'm fine." You felt like she was leaving many things unspoken. Even though you didn't feel confident in what she said, you decided to leave it for now and enquire her about the rest of her day.
You sensed an end was coming to your conversation. A glance at the clock taught you that Jessie would probably have to hang up soon, because she told you earlier that she had a couple media appointments to attend to that evening. She hadn't told you what for, but it was more than clear what the reason was. Still, after 20 minutes of conversation, the subject hadn't been mentioned directly. As much as you felt like Jessie needed this break away from the whirlwind that it had been this afternoon, you felt like she was excluding you and it wasn't a nice feeling.
Just as you were going to say your goodbyes to each other, you interrupted her. "Jessie, wait. I know you'd rather not talk about it but I just want to reassure you that if you're ready, I'm here for you, okay?", there was no malice intent to what you said. As you told her, it was just about making sure your girlfriend knew you were there for her if she wanted to talk to you. And maybe, just maybe, you were hoping you could pull something out of her – but you'd never expected the response you got in return.
"Please, for the love of God, I'm fine!", you could sense the irritability in her voice and went quiet. Jessie rarely ever raised her voice at you, so her tone took you by surprise. "I've told you I'm fine plenty of times, what don't you understand? I don't want to talk about it and especially not with you. I called you to get it all off my mind and not talk about the bullshit that I've had to deal with here but clearly you can't even catch a hint. Honestly I don't even know why I bother with calling you anymore, if you can't even give me a break from my football."
Before you could muster up a response, you heard the sound of the call ending. You slowly retracted your phone from your ear, remaining seated on the edge of your bed for a little while before you came back to your senses. You had nothing but good intentions with the way you handled the situation, although you could acknowledge that maybe you pushed her a bit too far. That aside though, you didn't feel like you deserved her lashing out to you like that. You fought back the tears that were threatening to spill when you thought back about the way she snapped at you, so out of character and something she'd never done before. Sure, you two argued from time to time but it never ended up like this. You sighed deeply before pushing the call and what your girlfriend said to the back of your mind, finally hopping in the shower and hoping she would come back to you sooner rather than later.
Jessie let her body fall against her mattress after she ended the call. Deep down she knew you were full of good intentions but it hadn't done her any good that you pushed, and she snapped. She'd never snapped at you before, not in the way she did now. She'd raised her voice, not often, but that was something that occurred from time to time. But it was different now. Especially the way the call ended, it wasn't just something that would pass overnight.
She rubbed her hands over her face and stared up at the ceiling as she fought back tears. Out of frustration or sadness – she didn't know. What she did know, is that an argument with her girlfriend was the last thing she needed to be added to the pile of growing worries.
Jessie's watch read 6:03pm now, which meant that she had to go down for dinner soon. She grabbed her keycard and left her hotel room, taking the elevator down to the dining hall. She rehashed the conversation you were having merely 5 minutes ago in her head while the elevator took her downstairs, thinking about where it went wrong and why she snapped at her. Jessie's frustration settled rather quickly after the call and insecurity settled in, the realization hitting her that she probably overreacted.
The bell of the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts. She dragged herself towards the noise, mentally preparing herself to plaster a smile on her face for the next couple hours.
As much as she did her best to conceal how she was feeling inside, her inactivity and lack of participation in conversations around the table had grabbed some people's attention. Janine, especially, could tell that Jessie was acting off. She knew Jessie liked to take a walk after dinner, so when she set off, Janine followed suit a couple moments later.
She jogged up to her Canadian teammate who was trudging along the hotel perimeter. "Jess!", Jessie's head turned to the side upon hearing her name, offering Janine a tight-lipped smile when she joined her. "You okay, bud?", she threw an arm around Jessie who shrugged and looked down at her feet.
"My girlfriend and I had an argument earlier," Janine hummed, allowing Jessie the space to explain herself further. "And I think I'm the one that caused it.", Janine sucked in a breath through her teeth and squeezed Jessie's shoulder. "Dog house?"
She shrugged again, seemingly the only appropriate response she could come up with as she didn't speak further. "Wanna tell me what happened?", Janine tried. Jessie took a deep breath before she recited the whole story of what happened when you two were on the phone earlier, while taking a detour of the path she'd normally walk – allowing Janine and herself a bit more time to talk about what was going on.
"So yeah, that's where we are at right now. I sent her a quick message to check in after dinner but she's giving me the cold shoulder – I got left on read. And I don't know how to go about things now."
Before she replied anything, Janine couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. Jessie frowned and looked at her friend, confused as to what she found funny. "You're one of a kind, Jeff. Honestly. You've got a caring girlfriend that's on the other side of the world right now, and all she wants is to check in. She can't physically be with you so the only thing you can do right now is be emotionally available.", Janine grabbed Jessie's shoulders and halted them both, turning their bodies towards each other. "I know you don't like speaking about your feelings, but this is a serious matter, Jessie. This is not a silly subject, it's about your job. Our job. It's okay to be insecure, to be in your head, to be annoyed at the situation and to not know how the future is going to ensue. And it's more than okay to voice those feelings to someone – especially your partner. You've gotta let her in sometimes, okay? I know you're reserved but if anyone deserves to be opened up to, it's her."
Jessie closed her eyes and sighed, and Janine physically felt tension escape her shoulders as she still had her hands on them. "How about you fly her out here? Things like that are better talked about in person. If I remember correctly, the project she stayed home for was presented two days ago. Is her schedule free for the rest of the week?"
Jessie quickly checked your shared calendar on her phone and saw your free – granted nothing had been planned that you didn't put in the calendar yet. "Yeah, she should be. There's nothing in the calendar that she can't miss."
When she looked up her eyes found Janine's, who were full of concern. "Make it up to her, okay? Fly her out, talk to her about it. Maybe it'll give you a boost on the pitch too. We're all tackling this issue together, but it won't work if you get yourself into precarious situations like these. I know you love her, then show her too."
Jessie nodded, Janine's words convincing the Canadian midfielder to make things right with you.
-
From: Jess 🤍 "Hi baby, I checked the calendar and as far as I can tell you don't have any obligations at work anymore. I remember them telling you if you wanted to come to the Olympics for a couple days you could, so here's a plane ticket. It's for tomorrow and you would arrive in time for our game against France. I'd love for you to be there and have you with me again, and for us to have a chance to talk about things. Please?"
You had just woken up from a nap to Jessie's message. It was quite late in the evening in France now, way past Jessie's usual bedtime which confused you. She wasn't one to miss her 9 hours of sleep, especially not during tournaments.
You had ignored her previous message when she checking in with you a couple hours ago. You knew you were probably being unreasonable, but you wanted to let her know in one way or another that you weren't pleased with the way she handled the situation – didn't matter if she was under a big stress load or not.
You typed out a couple responses, none of them which seemed suitable to you. In the end, you settled on something relatively simple, yet would probably settle her worries around you a little.
From: You Thank you, I'll be there. Kick ass. ❤️
You finished up packing the next day around 10am and set off, your flight departing at 2pm which left you enough time to grab an Uber to the airport and be comfortably on time.
You arrived 2 and a half hours early, giving you enough time to check in and go through bag checks, making sure your gate exists before settling down on one of the free seats. You tried to kill some time by replying to some emails before you officially made an "Out of office"-announcement for a couple days.
The flight went reasonably smooth. Jessie got you a business class ticket – you always assured her there was no need –, because she 'only wanted the best for you'. You slept through most of the itinerary and when you woke up you let Jessie know you were almost there. The jet lag was something you'd have to deal with later, but all in all you were very excited to see your girlfriend. Argument aside, you'd not seen her for 4 weeks now and it was weighing down on you anyway – missing her embrace, her touch, her smell, her kisses.
You had booked a night at a hotel not far from where Canada would play France tomorrow, but far enough from Jessie's hotel to not be tempted to go over. The team didn't allow any visitors on the day before a match, and you knew Jessie wouldn't appreciate that either right now. Considering the energy between the two of you was still tense, meeting you now wouldn't be a joyful conversation for her, it would only add more stress to the load that was already on her shoulders and you wanted nothing less than to be an extra burden.
You spent your afternoon exploring the streets of Saint-Etienne, an adorable city where Jessie and her teammates would face France in Stade Geoffroy Guichard tomorrow. Soon enough the evening came and you ordered takeaway in your room, not feeling comfortable enough to go to a restaurant by yourself in an unknown country. You spent your evening scrolling through the French channels on tv, quickly realizing that the little French you taught yourself was way less useful than you thought it was. You fell asleep quite quickly after a long day of traveling.
-
Jessie woke up the next day feeling much better than before she went to bed, a whole lot of pressure off her shoulders ever since she knew you got to Saint-Etienne safe and well, and especially since she knew she was finally going to see you again tonight.
The usual matchday routine started for Jessie and her teammates, trying to dance around the ongoing scandal allegations and trying to manage the team without Bev in place. They prepared themselves as best as possible for the game and tried to put everything towards the back of their minds and focussed on the task at hand; trying to beat France in their second group match. The points may have been deducted, but that didn't mean they wouldn't go full on and leave it all out on the pitch. There was little chance, but it wasn't lost yet. And as long as there was opportunity, Jessie and her teammates would rise to the occasion.
Breakfast, mobility sessions, pre-match walk, it all went smoothly. Jessie had to refrain from texting you and asking what you were up to, but she knew that was a place she wouldn't come back from. She had always taken it upon her not to text you on matchdays, she liked her own bubble and as much as she wanted to break it for you on this occasion, she had something more important at hand tonight.
It was only on the short bus journey from the hotel where the Canadian team stayed at to the stadium when Jessie started to get nervous. She'd done incredibly well to keep all the nervosity at bay throughout the day, but reality came crashing down on her on the bus and she couldn't help but get a little anxious. It was the first time the Canadians would step onto the pitch since the scandal escalated. What would the reaction of the fans be? How will it be received? How will it feel to play against the home crowd? Jessie tried to ground herself by playing her pre-match playlist through her headphones instead of listening to the songs that were being played on the bus speaker.
Arriving at the stadium, it was easy for Jessie and the team to just go through the motions. Entering the changing room, getting changed into the warm-up gear, getting massaged or strapped by the physios, having an energy gel or drink – it was a routine that was engraved into their minds, no one in that room had to think twice about anything they were about to do. Some things came easy in football, and this was one of them. It's things like this that ground the team; the routines, things they could hold onto.
When coach called it was time for the team to go out for warm-ups, Jessie called the girls into a huddle in the changing room.
"Let's do this, yeah? We're up against the home team and their crowd today, it won't be easy. We might also be up against a whole lot more people seen what happened the past couple days. But that's not our focus right now. Let's go out there and show that we're pretty damn good footballers, yeah? I believe in us. In every single one of you. If you believe in yourself, we have one hell of a shot at turning this situation around. Canada on three. One, two, three..."
-
"... CANADA!", you only caught the back end of what the stadium speaker said, but you didn't care. Jessie had just scored the equalizer for her team in the 58th minute of the game, bringing the score back level and giving Canada a second chance of grabbing something from this game.
Jessie's mum engulfed you in a tight hug in means of celebrating her daughter's goal together. You high-fived her dad and her siblings, who were also in the family box watching the game.
You'd made it to the game just in time, Saint-Etienne traffic taking you by surprise as a quick Uber to the stadium turned into a 30-minute start and stop journey. You'd rushed to the family box, greeting Jessie's family before your eyes scanned the pitch looking for your freckled Canadian. Warm-ups were long done and the players were just about walking on the pitch, getting ready for the anthems. You noticed Jessie singing along, eyes closed while she took everything in. Your eyes stayed locked on her figure, waiting until she opened hers again. When the anthem finished, Jessie looked up to her family box and you couldn't miss the little grin that formed on her face when she saw you. You gave her a small wave which she reciprocated eagerly, then quickly falling back into captain's duties and getting ready for the game.
So now you were here. You were sure you didn't have any nails left, your leg bouncing up and down as the clock slowly but surely ticked further leaving the Canadians with little time to score a potential winner. The fourth official held up the board that said there would be thirteen minutes of extra time, a wave of excitement being heard from the stands from both sets of fans who believed their team could score a second goal.
Then, everything seemed to happen so quickly. Janine made a wonderful defensive move before passing a through ball to Adriana. She laid the ball of to Jordyn whose shot got saved, but the keeper had nothing against Vanessa's rebound. It felt like ages between the ball leaving her foot and the net rippling, but they had done it. They had scored in the 103rd minute and they successfully saved their Olympic group stage, giving them a chance at qualifying for the knock-out stages of the tournament.
You jumped up and down, no longer trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill across your cheeks. You found yourself once again engulfed in a hug, a big family hug this time. "They did it!", you screamed to Elysse. You could tell she was having a hard time to keep it dry too, endlessly proud of her sister and teammates.
Not long after, the whistle blew and the game was officially over. The Canadians made their way around the pitch making sure to thank as many fans as possible for having made the long trip from Canada to France. They took pictures, signed jerseys, gave away boots, until they found themselves in front of the family boxes.
They all started climbing up and over the barriers and made their way to their friends and families, as you took a step back from the group to allow Jessie to talk to her parents and siblings first. She got engulfed in many hugs, accepting the congratulations from many other people around her. As captain, she had led this team to a historic win and you couldn't be more proud of her. When conversation died down with her family she slowly retreated from that group and tentatively made her way over to you, a slight smile creeping on her face once you noticed her coming up to you. She stopped right in front of you, locking her eyes with yours.
"Is it okay if we talk about everything later, please? I missed you and I really, really want to kiss you right now."
You hummed in agreement and couldn't stop the bright smile from spreading across your face when Jessie closed the final couple steps of distance between the both of you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, digging her face into the crook of your neck. "I missed you so much," you could just about make out the words she mumbled against your skin and you pulled her impossibly tighter against you. "I missed you too, Jess. I'm so proud of you," she retreated her head from your neck and you cupped her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. "You've done incredibly well. What you did tonight is amazing. I couldn't be more proud."
You leaned in closer to her and waited for Jessie to cross the final bits of space before you finally pressed your lips against hers. You couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped your throat upon the feeling, Jessie chuckling and digging her fingers into your waist. In this moment it felt like you'd never ever been apart, her lips slotting perfectly against yours and bodies moulding together. Jessie deepened the kiss as you started playing with the baby hairs at the back of her neck, a shiver going through her body when she felt the soft touch of your fingertips on the sensitive skin. Before you could get carried away, you broke the kiss with a teasing bite on her bottom lip, smiling ear to ear as you locked eyes again.
"Go get a shower, you must be cold. I'll wait for you up here," Jessie nodded and pressed another chaste kiss against your lips, savoring the feeling of being together again and having you at arm's length, rather than on the other side of the world with a 9 hour time difference.
Jessie emerged from the changing rooms about an hour later, caught up in conversation with some of her teammates when she entered the family box. Her parents and siblings had already left, their journey to their hotel quite a bit longer than yours. You were waiting for your girlfriend while sipping on a drink you'd ordered, when she dropped her washbag next to you and put her hands on your shoulders, towering over you as you were sat down.
"You wanna get going? We're allowed to have a visitor to stay the night the evening after matchday. I've not been able to make use of that yet, so I'd like to do so now," you grinned at your girlfriend and nodded your head, excited about the idea of sleeping in her arms again tonight.
The ride to the hotel went smooth. Jessie came with the team bus so you had to get a taxi back there, which caused a dent in Jessie's wallet but you both went with it. The ride was silent, and as much as you enjoyed being in your girlfriend's presence, you could feel the air shifting. It grew tense upon nearing the hotel, unspoken words hanging between the both of you as you knew you'd have to talk about things later. You grabbed Jessie's hand that was in her lap and pulled it into yours, steading yourself with her touch.
Once arrived, you greeted and congratulated some of the other Canadian players who had also brought their partner back to the hotel. They were all mingling in the entrance hall as you moved past them, Jessie leading the two of you to the elevator and towards her room on the second floor.
Seen as the squad moved around the south of France for their games they didn't have a set hotel, which meant they couldn't really make it their own space. This meant that no home comforts were trickled around the room, something Jessie would normally do when she was away for multiple weeks for camps or tournaments. You let her unpack her stuff while you sat down on the bed, having quickly changed into something more comfortable and forgiving.
A few minutes later Jessie joined you in bed, ushering you both to lay under the covers as she claimed to be cold and tired, wanting to be in bed properly. You laid on your back as she cuddled up next to you, a big smile on her face as she finally felt the warmth of your embrace again. She pressed a kiss against your chest and let out a sigh of relief.
"How are you feeling, Jess?", you were well aware the last time you posed your girlfriend this question it turned out in a way no one wanted, but you were confident it wouldn't happen this time. Jessie shifted and positioned herself so that she could look up at you, a faint smile lingering on her lips. "I feel good. Genuinely. Better than I have been feeling the past couple days," you nodded, silently pushing her to go on. "It's been a lot but the game and you being here have helped me settle. Thank you," she pressed a fleeting kiss against your lips to accentuate her words.
You reciprocated the kiss, but pulled away rather quickly to not get lost in her affection. Jessie understood why you did and spoke up again. "I'm sorry about what happened the other day. I shouldn't have snapped at you," you soothingly rubbed her back when you sensed the nervosity that crept in her voice. "It had been a rough day and I wanted nothing more than to unwind and talk to you about other things, but when you started pushing I just couldn't bare with it anymore. I know you were just trying to do good, though. I talked about it to Janine and she made me realize that I'm not honest enough with you. I always try and bottle up my feelings, but that ends disastrous in ways like it did between us two days ago. I promise I'll try and be better for you. For us."
Her words were laced with emotion, her voice soft as she tried to keep the emotions at bay upon expressing how she felt about the situation. You wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her eye and was making its way across her cheek, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. "Thank you, baby. I want to be there for you, but you need to let me. It's a two-way thing, okay? We both give, we both take."
Jessie nodded, shifting again and now burying her face in your neck, soaking up the warmth of being under the covers together. "Thank you", she mumbled barely audible against your skin. You let out a chuckle at her words. "What for?", you asked. "Just, for being you. For being the person you are and for dealing with my moods. I love you so much," she lifted her head from out of your neck and looked you in the eyes before she lowered her head and pressed her lips against yours. "I love you too," you mumbled against her lips before you two got lost in one another and made up in different ways for all the time you had missed out on together the past month.
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hutchersonsgurl · 3 days
Text
Out of the Shadows - Daryl dixion
paring fem reader & Daryl Dixon
summary: you and Daryl have been seeing each other for a couple months but he never said i love you
warning: none
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The sun hung low in the sky, painting the world in hues of gold as you and Daryl dipped under the broken fence lining the Greene farm. The tranquility of the countryside felt like a distant memory compared to the chaos that lurked beyond its edges. Surrounded by the chaos of the undead, you had carved out a little corner of normalcy here, even if it was fraught with tension and higher stakes than ever before.
You and Daryl had been through a lot in the last few months, the bond between you stretching beyond friendship into something more confusing—something that sizzled just beneath the surface. When Daryl had first suggested, rather awkwardly, that you two could help each other out in "some ways," it had seemed like a harmless enough arrangement. But now, watching him adjust the straps on his crossbow with that familiar frown etched on his forehead, you wondered if your friendship could ever really go back to what it was before.
“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at you. His voice was steady, perhaps a little more composed than how you felt. You nodded, pushing aside your swirling thoughts and focusing on the task at hand. The grocery store loomed before you, a hulking skeleton of its former self, but it was full of potential supplies that could save lives.
As you stepped through the threshold, it felt eerily quiet. The aisles were toppled and littered with cans and wrappers. You took a deep breath, the stale air heavy with the scent of decay, and pushed forward.
After some searching, you began gathering canned goods, medical supplies, and whatever else you could find. Daryl moved through the isles with a predator’s grace, his sharp eyes continually scanning for danger. You admired his focus; it was part of why you were drawn to him.
“There’s gotta be more in the back,” he said, pointing toward a set of swinging doors at the end of the aisle. You felt a thrill of anticipation coupled with a tinge of unease. This was the longest you had been on a supply run in a while, and the store had been silent far too long.
“Let’s check it out; we can’t leave any good stuff behind,” you suggested, heart racing. You wanted to impress him, to prove that you could handle yourself out here.
With a nod, you approached the swinging doors and, with one swift motion, pushed them open.
The sight beyond those doors sent a chilling jolt through your body. A horde of walkers shuffled in the dim light, their grotesque forms shuffling aimlessly. You barely had time to register their existence before Daryl was at your side, crossbow raised, ready for action.
“Back up!” he shouted, shoving you gently behind him. The moment hung in the air before chaos erupted. You seized your knife, your instincts kicking in. Daryl took out the first walker with expertise, his aim true, but there were too many—more than you had anticipated.
You ducked under a flailing arm, slicing your knife into the side of a walker’s head, its putrid weight collapsing to the ground. Daryl's movements were fluid, almost choreographed as he covered your blind spots.
“We gotta get outta here!” he barked, his eyes fierce with determination. You nodded, adrenaline flooding your veins, and together fought off the growing swarm, pushing your way back toward the entrance you had come through.
Each step felt heavy as you battled your way towards the door. You worked in sync, a rhythm established through countless hours at the Greene farm. It wasn’t just about survival now; it was about protecting him, just as he had protected you.
Suddenly, you stumbled, a sharp pain shooting through your leg as one of the walkers latched onto you, its rotten teeth gnashing just inches away. Daryl was there in an instant, wrenching the walker away and dispatching it with a brutal thrust of his knife.
“Get up!” he urged, pulling you to your feet again. You won’t let him down; you wouldn’t let either of you down.
The two of you barreled for the opening, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You felt breathless as you fought to the front of the store and burst through the doors, leaving the throng of walkers behind in the dusty gloom.
Once outside, you sprinted toward the truck, gasping for breath. Daryl slammed the door shut just as a few stragglers lunged at the vehicle. Hearts pounding, you both sank against the truck, the adrenaline slowly fading.
“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, a seldom-seen relief washing over his features. “Thought we were done for.”
You smiled weakly, still feeling the rush of adrenaline. “I could’ve handled it,” you teased.
“Yeah, like hell you could,” he shot back, a smirk finally crossing his lips, melting some of the tension that had built between you.
Returning to the Greene farm felt surreal. You had faced death together and survived. Only moments later, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the fields, you found yourself alone with Daryl by the barn. The silence wrapped around you like a warm blanket.
“Listen…,” he began, his voice halting. He avoided your gaze, focusing on a distant horizon, but you could see the weight of emotions in his expression. “I... I need to tell you something.”
Your heart raced. Was he finally going to say it? Your breaths came in shallow bursts, the entire world narrowing down to just the two of you.
“I never thought I could let someone in like this,” he confessed, finally meeting your eyes. “But I do care about you, more than… more than I thought was possible in this messed up world."
You felt your heart leap. “Daryl…”
“I love you,” he rushed out, the words tumbling from his lips. His gaze was fierce, raw with vulnerability. “I don’t just want to be friends or whatever. I want you.”
It felt like time stopped. You took a slow breath, allowing his confession to wash over you. “I love you too, Daryl,” you admitted, sincerity resonating through every word.
" it took you us almost getting killed by walkers to tell me you love me " you tease
"Hey I told ya I ain't good at these types of things" Daryl answered
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First fic in awhile! I'm slowly getting back into this but hope y'all like it
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kurooscopy · 2 days
Text
a/n (ada's notes) - just a short one (~800) to get back into things. selfship coded yearning, timeskip!kuroo, reader is referred to as "lady"
- ᓚᘏᗢ
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kuroo tetsurou is not a snuggler in the mornings.
even though he has the volume turned down low, you always find yourself stirring when his alarm goes off in the early hours of the morning. the curtains are shut, but you know it's still dark out, just as it is every time he extricates himself from your grip and slides out of bed.
for the first few minutes, you pretend to be asleep - maybe you'll be convincing enough to trick your body, too. you listen to the rustles of papers and clothes as he shuffles around the room quietly. but then there's a heavy bump, followed by a curse, and your act is broken with a muffled, bleary giggle.
kuroo feels his way over to you through the dark, patting along the mattress until his hand finds the lump under the covers that is your leg. then, his lips find their way to your forehead - or rather, your eye. another giggle.
"sorry," he murmurs, still half asleep himself. "tried to be quiet."
"come back." you stretch your arms out for him, seeking his warmth. not even the best sleeping impression in the world could make up for the loss of his body next to yours.
he huffs the tiniest laugh. "don't say that, or i'll never leave."
and he has to, you know he has to. it's barely been a couple months of him at the jva, but he loves this job. you can see it in his eyes as you talk over dinner, or when the both of you work together in the home office, keeping each other company. you know he loves this job.
as he takes your hand and kisses over your knuckles, each and every one getting its own small affection, you know he loves you too.
so instead of telling him to come back, you whisper a quiet "have a good day," and softly pinch his cheek. he pretends to nip playfully at your fingers.
"it'll be better once i get home."
you don't feel him for a bit after that, drifting in and out of sleep as he, presumably, raids the kitchen and tames his hair and does all the other things he needs to get ready for the day.
by the next time he appears at your side, it's sunrise. his hand brushes over your cheek, cold from the water of the sink rather than the residual warmth of the sheets.
he presses a kiss into your hair. "see you tonight, baby." roused, you roll over to face him.
he laughs softly at the way you crinkle your nose when his tie tickles your face. he rubs his thumb over the crease in your brow until it disappears. you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and he wraps his arms around you.
kuroo's always been an early bird, but maybe somewhere deep down, he yearns for the art of the morning snuggle.
"love you," you mumble into his neck. slowly, he leans in further until his full weight lies comfortably on top of you. your favourite blanket.
"i love you, too."
it could be sixty seconds or sixty minutes that you lay there together, savouring the last moments of comfort before facing the day. all you know is it's never long enough. not with him. he trails little kisses along your jaw and behind your ear, not caring that your hands clutching him tighter will wrinkle his shirt or mess up his hair.
then, it ends, as all good things do. he pulls back for one last kiss - a real one this time - and you hold him by the collar so he can't run away from you too quickly.
you're too busy contemplating that he tastes like toothpaste to notice his fingers creeping up your sides.
tickling, he's found, is the only thing that gets you to push him away instead of pulling him closer. and if he must leave you, grumpy and sleepy and reluctant as you are, he'd rather hear a squeal of laughter before he goes.
"begone," you manage to wheeze once he lets up on his assault, holding a defensive arm out in front of you. "you're the worst." you can just make out his grin in the dim light creeping through the window.
"you're not a very good liar, baby."
"hmph. bring melonpan from that place near the station on your way home."
"whatever the lady wants." he shoots you a wink before slipping out the door, and then he's gone.
but his smooth cologne that rubbed off on your cheek lingers for the rest of the morning, a lasting kiss to tide you over until you're finally back in his arms.
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pretentious-blonde · 17 hours
Text
patched up
pairing: remus lupin x reader
summary: you help remus clean up after the full moon, reminding him once again how much he is loved, even if he thinks he is underserving
warnings: cuts, wounds, physical pain
a/n: all i write is hurt/comfort, and I'm not even mad
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Remus sat on the old leather couch, a book in his hand that just couldn’t seem to grasp his attention. His free fingers traced small circles on your legs, which you had ungracefully thrown over his own as you lounged together in the living room. It was still early, just coming up for noon, you both were aware of the time. Even if the knowledge was unspoken. 
It was the full moon tonight, and despite the routine that you both had become familiar with, the boy couldn’t shake the nerves that coiled and twisted inside of him. 
You pretended not to notice what he was doing, glancing at the door every couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock. James and Sirius would arrive any moment now, take him away, far away for yet another transformation. You were used to it by now. 
One thing that was always constant was that they had always been there for him, he appreciated that, but he hated leaving you. Especially when you gave him that soft, reassuring smile. Like everything would be fine. Like everything was fine.
“Rem,” you spoke softly, catching those big, brown eyes. His body was tense beneath you. 
“I’m alright, dove,” he gave you a weak smile, his fingers stopping their patterns to give your calf a light squeeze. “Just… you know.”
And you did know. Painfully so.
You nodded, understanding him completely. You were about to speak more, but were interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. He stiffened even more at the sound. Hand stilling.
He sighed and closed the book, setting it aside. His gaze moved to the hand on your leg, not wanting to move it, wanting to keep the inevitable away for just a second longer. 
“It’s time,” he tells you quietly, like he does every month. His voice carried a sadness that he couldn’t hide completely. 
You place your hand on top of his own, your smile gentle but knowing. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you to get back, okay?”
He stood up, pulling you with him, tall body towering over your own. He let his hand linger on the small of your back as you both headed to the front door. When he opened it, James and Sirius stood waiting outside, both smiling softly as they knew what was to come. The car behind them was still running, headlights cutting through the fog, casting a warm glow behind them. 
“Hey, mate,” James begins, smiling up at Remus. “You ready?”
Sirius leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his usual smirk missing from his face. “We’re ready when you are,” he said. His voice light in an attempt to ease your boyfriend’s nerves. “If you need a breather before we go, just say the word.”
Remus shook his head, he would rather just get this over and done with, no more stalling. You could feel the stress in his body increase as the hand on your waist held on a little tighter. 
Sirius, sensing the clear tension that settled heavily in the air, finally cracked a smile. “Don’t worry,” he waved his hand in front of him. “You’ll be back here with your girl before you know it.” He said, winking in your direction.
James also turns his attention to you, giving you a mock salute, “He is in safe hands, don’t you fret.”
“And we won’t allow him to get too grumpy when we return him,” Sirius added, side-eyeing the man standing next to you. Remus runs a hand over his face at their teasing.
You rolled your eyes and gave them a half-glare, happy that they were trying to keep things light. 
“I trust you both,” you say, tone teasing but nonetheless truthful. “Bring him back in one piece.”
James nods. “You have our word.”
Remus lets out a small, grateful smile before turning his attention back to you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, allowing his hand to linger on your cheek for a moment. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening, darling. I promise,” he tells you, his gaze was intense. The act of leaving you now was painful. 
You leaned forward and hugged him tightly, his own long arms wrapping around you immediately. Secure and firm, he never wanted to let go. 
“I know you will,” you whispered into his chest, voice muffled by his worn jumper. “I’ll be here.”
Remus reluctantly loosened his embrace, kissing your forehead gently as he allowed himself to linger. 
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he held your chin. Warm, tired eyes burrowing into your own. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you say quickly. He already knew that but—god—did it feel good to hear you say it back. He turned towards the car behind him, giving you a small wave before climbing in. 
Remus settled into the back seat as the other two slid into the front. He watched you as the car sped away, trying to push down the knots his stomach was tying. Sirius leaned back, tossing him a lighthearted grin from the passenger seat.
“Come on, Moony,” Sirius said, trying to help him relax. “It’s just another moon. We have done this hundreds of times now.”
"Another moon, another miserable night,” Remus grumbled, no longer having the will to fake a smile. You weren’t there anymore. 
James glanced back from the driver’s seat, a sympathetic look now in his eyes. “You’ll be alright, mate. Besides, from the way you’re moping, I’d say you’re just lovesick.”
“Definitely lovesick,” Sirius said, nodding his head in agreement.
Remus sighed, staring out the trees flying past the window. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I am. I’m damn lucky to be.”
James and Sirius exchanged a quick, knowing look, but didn’t tease him further. Remus just wanted to get through this—so he could go back to the one person who made everything else worth it.
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Remus tried his hardest to be silent when he entered, opening the door gently to lessen the loud creak, his movements were slow and heavy as he stepped inside. It was late—much later than he intended to be—every inch of his tired body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribcage, having to reach out and steady himself against the wall, closing the door behind him. 
It had been bad this time. Really bad. James and Sirius had confirmed it, as if the fresh wounds couldn’t tell him that already. Their concerned faces still clear in his memory. 
The cuts on his body were deep—deeper than usual—one stretching across his chest, another on his arm, and a particularly nasty one that covered the side of his face. He had no recollection of how he acquired them, but they offered a fresh reminder of what he was. What he could become. 
He trudged up the stairs, each step more painful than the last, eventually making his way to the bathroom. He avoided the mirror, the last thing he wanted to see was his reflection—the scars, the bandages, the tired eyes that always seemed more hollow after the events of a full moon. He quickly redressed the lacerations on his torso, delaying touching the one on his cheek. 
He didn’t want to see what it looked like, but he had no choice. He needed to change it. He would just have to do it fast. 
Glancing up quickly, he caught a brief glimpse of himself. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Immediately he looked away, biting down another wave of familiar self-loathing that flowed through him. 
He hated this—hated how he looked, how his body was always going to be a physical reminder of how cursed he was. How much of a monster he was. 
With shaky hands, he removed a bandage from its plastic casing, placing it on his face as swiftly as he could. He pulled out a loose set of pyjamas and quickly slipped them on his aching body, just wanting to crawl into bed and pretend the previous night never happened.
He opened the door to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of your sleeping figure. You were lying peacefully on your side of the bed, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your breathing drew him closer to you. 
He paused before he got in, just standing there for a moment, taking you in, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He loved you. God, he loved you. The one thing in his life he would never get near his tribulation. The one thing that kept him going. 
Carefully, he slipped in next to you, taking extra care not to rouse you. The ache in his arms flared up as he pulled back the heavy duvet, but he forced himself to ignore it. After all, what was a little discomfort when he could be close to you?
He shuffled closer, wincing at the pain that shot through his muscles, but it appeared to melt into the background as he felt your warmth permeate his skin. 
For a moment, he was content just laying there next to you, watching you sleep. If you were awake you would probably call him a creep. He stifled a chuckle at the image that formed in his mind. 
His heart ached—not from the wounds or exhaustion he had sustained, but from the overwhelming combination of emotions he felt for you. He hoped you were sleeping well, lord knows he wouldn’t be. Not with the soreness that was coursing through his drained body, but his own well-being didn’t concern him right now. What mattered was that he was here, with you. 
With a soft sigh, he gently pulled your sleeping form closer to him, his arms trembling slightly with the strain. The throbbing in his chest flared up again, but he ignored it. Instead, he buried his face in your hair and let the steady sound of your breathing soothe him. He kissed the top of your head, whispering into the silent room. 
“I’m home, love,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible as sleep began to pull him under. “Promised I would be.”
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The first thing you felt when you stirred was a familiar warmth, strong arms wrapped around you, and for a brief moment, your heart swelled with relief. He was back. He always came back to you. But every time he managed to crawl back home you couldn’t help but worry if it would be worse than the last time. You shifted slightly, turning in his embrace in order to get a better look at him—that’s when you noticed. 
The fresh bandages, hastily applied, peeked out from his long sleeve, another covering the side of his face. You ached for him at the sight of them. You pulled your arms from beneath the duvet, reaching out to touch the dressing. Your fingers hovered just above it, pausing mid-air as you stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him more. You didn’t know what lay beneath them. 
You wriggled out of his hold, taking additional time and care so as to not wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. He needed the rest. You were certain he would be in pain as soon as he rose, and as much as the idea of staying in his arms sounded heavenly, you decided to make yourself useful. 
Padding quietly to the kitchen, odd socks on your feet, you grab two cups from the cupboard above your head. You had to go on your tiptoes to reach them. Usually, Remus would insist on getting them for you—he had once seen you clamber up onto the counter and it nearly gave him a heart attack—but he was preoccupied today. 
The kettle bubbled softly as you pulled out the jar of tea, along with the packet of biscuits—chocolate, of course, his preferred choice. You prepared it in the way he taught you, letting it brew for a good couple of minutes before removing the teabag, pouring in a healthy glug of milk. You returned to the bedroom, steaming mugs in hand and the packet of biscuits under your arm. 
The brunette began to stir at the soft crackle of plastic as you placed the treats on the bedside table, holding your own mug close to your chest as you sat on the floor beside the bed. You watched his eyes as they fluttered open. 
“Hey,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side to look at him horizontally. “How are you feeling?”
He winced as he shifted over, his body still unbearably sore. His tired eyes met yours, and despite everything, he managed to give you a faint smile. It was hard not to when you looked at him like that. 
“I’ve been better,” he replied, his voice husky with sleep. 
You shook your head at his attempts to downplay his clear discomfort, trying to mask the worry in your eyes that was surely present. 
“I made you tea,” you gesture to the cup next to you, pale wisps dancing around the top of it. He liked it hot, straight from the kettle. It amazed you how he could handle drinking it so fast. “And your favourite.”
“I’m a lucky man,” he said as he sat up, voice slightly strained as he finished his sentence. He reached out and dipped the biscuit in his mug, making a sound of relief as he popped it into his mouth, allowing the rich flavour to melt over his tongue. 
He took a sip of his tea, sleeve rolling up slightly as he leant over, bandage visible. You didn’t want to mention how poorly they had been applied, you didn’t want to remind him. But it had to be done, for his sake. 
“Rem,” you began gently, not wanting to upset him. “You need to change those.”
Immediately, he stiffened, his body pausing mid-sip. He loathed this part—being looked after and the vulnerability that came with it. 
“Do I?” He muttered, voice lacking the spark it had when he woke up, clearly embarrassed at your statement. 
You nodded solemnly, cringing at the discomfort in his eyes. “It might get infected,” you tell him. “You’re tired. Let me help you, please?”
He hesitated for a moment, an internal battle occurring in his head, before giving you one of his kind smiles. “Alright,” he responded, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “Can I finish my tea first?”
You giggled, worry easing just a little. “Of course,” you say, nodding your head. “We’ll do it after.”
He placed his soon-empty cup on the side next to him, sighing heavily as he nodded to you. “Alright, love,” he said reluctantly. “I’m ready.”
You stand up slowly, reaching out to take his hesitant hand, leading him towards the bathroom. He traced your knuckles with his thumb as you both continued down the hallway. When you opened the door, he immediately hopped up on the counter silently. Ignoring the mirror and instead choosing to look down at his lap.
The first aid kit was under the sink, a pack that you always kept fully stocked. You quickly grabbed it before returning to your place in front of him, standing in between his spread legs. Your heart felt heavy at how exhausted he looked. How broken. But you refused to let him see that. He didn’t need to worry about you being worried about him. He had enough to deal with as it is. 
“Can I take your jumper off?” You ask him softly, afraid of raising your voice. You needed to take care of him, and from the looks of it, he wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible. 
His eyes left his lap and locked with yours. For a second, he looked as though he might say something, but instead, he just nodded. Words seemingly too hard to form right now. 
You tried to keep your hands steady as you reached out, gently pulling the fabric over his head, keeping the material as far away from his body as you removed it. You folded up the material and placed it to the side, allowing him to get more comfortable with his bare skin showing before you gave him your attention again. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 
Bandages—there were so many of them, scattered haphazardly across his torso and arms. Each one was a significant reminder of what he had been through the previous night. You swallowed hard, putting on a brave face as you knew he was watching your every movement. 
“You ready?” You asked, needing verbal confirmation as you knew this was going to hurt. Not just him, but yourself as well. 
His lips twitched up into a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he quipped, trying to take the edge off, but the pain was clear in his low voice. 
You peeled off the dressings, not earning a large reaction from the boy sitting in front of you. Most of them had become unstuck as he slept, making your job easier. You reached for the cloth and antiseptic, deciding to start with the easier gashes first. Your touch was diligent and gentle as you cleaned him, dabbing carefully at the blood and dirt that clung to his skin. 
He must have been shattered last night to skip this. That fact made you even more determined to fix this. To fix him. You couldn’t offer much, but you would do whatever you thought would help. Every few minutes, you’d glance up, wordlessly checking on him. Waiting for the swift bob of his head as he urges you to keep going. 
“Am I hurting you?” You knew the answer already, but you needed to know how much. 
“Only a little,” he lied, a faint smirk appearing on his face. “I’ve been though worse, dove.”
You roll your eyes at his ill attempt of humour, but at least he was able to crack a joke. That was a good sign. 
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you murmered as you pressed down on a particularly nasty cut, earning a small hiss from him. You hurried up when you heard the noise, not wanting to be the one behind his torture. 
Finally, you turned your attention to the injury on his face, the angry red line that ran from his collarbone all the way up to his cheek. The sight of it yanked at your heartstrings and you knew you failed to mask your reaction, his body stiffened. Eyes darting away from yours as he attempted to look away. You caught his chin before he could withdraw into himself, forcing him to look at you. 
Big, doe eyes filled with guilt, shame even, and it devastated you. He cleared his throat with a sharp cough, his voice gravely. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” he muttered, gaze dropping again despite the grip on his chin. “You shouldn’t—have to take care of me like this.”
You removed your hold on him, allowing both of your hands to continue working, dabbing gently as his mouth curled at the stinging sensation. “Remus,” you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. “I want to take care of you. I love taking care of you.”
He shook his head slightly, the conversation paining him more than your actions. “You’re too good to me,” he tells you, his voice monotone as if he was just speaking a fact. “Look at me, darling. I’m—I’m a mess.”
You smiled at the angelic boy in front of you and placed a kiss on his cheekbone, just above the cut. He really couldn’t see what you saw. How his friends saw in him. How he treated you all. He was the most selfless person you had ever met, going above and beyond for each and every person he cared for. 
It wasn’t a skill that could be taught. It was innate. It was Remus. Always had been. 
“You’re not a mess,” you say firmly. “You are mine. I love you—every scar, every mark, every part of you.”
You saw his throat bod as he swallowed, his eyes slightly glass as he stared at you. He always struggled to allow people to give him affection, not believing he deserved it. He didn’t know where to put all the love you gave him. It always felt unworthy of it. 
But in that moment, just the two of you in the cramped bathroom, illuminated by the small ceiling bulb. It felt right. Your fingers brushing over his scars, some fresher, some older, he thought maybe…just maybe. It would all be alright. 
You finish the last dressing, smoothing it over his skin with the same tenderness you treated all the others. “All done,” you tell him, feeling proud of your handiwork. 
Remus lets out a relieved chuckle at your pride. “I’d say you’ve missed your calling, love. Should’ve been a nurse.”
“Oh yeah?” You laugh, feeling the tension leave the room. “Maybe I’ll change careers.”
“I take it back,” he says quickly, eyes softening with affection. “I want you all to myself. I’m selfish.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I have the whole of today off,” you say, throwing the used bandages and their wrappers into the bin by the door. “We can do whatever you want.”
He raised an eyebrow, your words tempting him. “Anything?”
“Yep, anything at all,” you nod at him. “Within your...physical capabilities,” you quickly add. There is no way that would be happening in his condition. 
“Well you’re no fun,” Remus frowns playfully, mischief still swimming in his eyes. “But I’m sure I can come up with something riveting for the both of us.”
You put your hands on your hips, assuming a determined stance. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind.”
He hums, pleased with your statement, lowering himself down from the counter and pulling his jumper back on. Grimacing as it brushes his skin. He motions for you to follow him into the living room, watching as he winces as he sits down on the couch, his face briefly tightening in pain. But then, true to form, he opens his wide arms and looks at you expectantly. “Come on then.”
You go to take a step forward but hesitate. You would love nothing more than to drape yourself over him, but the sight of his bandages stops you. “I don’t want to hurt you…”
A look of warmth crossed his face, shaking his head with a tender smile. “It’ll hurt more if you don’t let me hold you, darling. Come on.”
You can’t help but melt at his kind words, you gently ease yourself onto the couch, mindful of his injuries and not putting your full weight on him. His arms encase you instantly, pulling you impossibly closer despite the clear discomfort it caused him. 
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” You scold him, your cheek resting on his chest, mindful of the dressing on the opposite side. 
“Stubborn? No.” He quips, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hopelessly in love? Maybe.”
You giggle, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you in a steady rhythm. “A bit of both, I think.”
It’s his turn now to chuckle, his tired bones relaxing further into the soft cushions. “You might be right.”
You both just lie there in a comfortable silence, the sound of the world beginning to wake up outside only added to the ambience. He was at peace with you In his embrace, glancing down at you as you gazed at him softly. Fingers tracing gentle circles on an unharmed piece of his chest. 
“So…” you begin, continuing your motions. “Any grand idea for today?”
He shakes his head, stopping to meet your eyes, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Honestly? Just this. Just you.” His voice is playful but his words have never been more true. “Don’t need anything else.”
“Smooth,” you say sarcastically, suppressing a smirk of your own. 
“I’m serious, love,” he chuckles. “I can’t think of a better way to spend today.”
Your heart soared at his words, you carefully shifted to cup his face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
He pushes himself further into your palm, eyes closing for the briefest of moments, his hand coming up to cover your own. “Have I mentioned that you’re too good for me?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, but the familiar self-doubt can still be heard in his voice. 
“Unfortunately, far too much,” you playfully glare. “You stubborn man.”
He reopens his eyes, now filled with an overwhelming amount of affection. It almost takes your breath away. 
“Then I’m sure you’ve heard me say how lucky I am as well,” he teases, his expression never faltering. 
“I’m the lucky one,” you grin cheekily, brushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “My boyfriend makes an excellent cup of tea.”
“Is that all I’m here for?” He asks in mock offence, pulling you flush against him, despite the twinge of pain it caused. “Keeping me around for my tea-making skills?”
“Exactly,” you nestle your head against him. 
At that moment, everything felt right to him. Just the two of you, safe, together. Nothing else mattered to him apart from the girl in his arms. He knows the pain will linger—the scars, the transformations, all of it. But with you—his anchor—it feels just about bearable. And for the first time in a long time. He allows himself to feel hope. The hope of your future together. 
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haikyu-mp4 · 2 days
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Vexing
Suggestive workplace romance as an athletic trainer with your rival and secret lover Iwaizumi, for my workplace romance event <3
requested by anonymous. word count; 721 – gn!reader
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Everyone wants Iwaizumi Hajime (27) athletic trainer. Seemingly everyone but you.
How could you like someone who competed with you constantly while you both studied in California, only to end up in the same line of work but for the opposing team?
As you headed to the Olympic Village gym with some of your volleyball players, you passed by the Japanese team on their way out. You recognised some of them, like Bokuto, whose eyes widened as he looked between you and Iwaizumi, who squinted in your direction like you had spit in his protein shake that morning.
None of them knew why the two of you always had such tension, but they didn’t dare question it further at the risk of getting penalty rounds during training.
You made a face, facing forward and clutching the training file you held closer to your chest. When he passed, you did your hardest not to turn around and check him out, hoping he might turn around for you and find you completely disinterested.
As if you couldn’t walk the road from your assigned room to his with your eyes closed.
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You knocked on the door, crossing your arms and making sure that anyone who might happen to pass by would think this was an involuntary visit. In reality, the lust clouding your mind made your body shiver as you hoped he would open this door quickly.
Iwaizumi opened up and you lifted an eyebrow in response to his eyes widening. “This is not a good time-”
“Who is it, Iwa-chan?” a lighter voice said from inside his room before one of your team’s players, Oikawa Tooru, came up behind his best friend. “Oh, hi! I didn’t think I had training tonight.”
While the man you were actually here to see seemed to stay quiet in the face of potentially revealing the only secret he kept from Oikawa, you tilted your head and smiled evilly.
“Didn’t you know me and Iwa-chan studied together? I’m here to compare notes.”
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You leaned on the table, Oikawa yapping away across from where you sat next to Iwaizumi, his hand not so innocently placed on your leg under said table.
“I need your opinion on something. Kawa, get up,” you requested, walking around the table to the setter and turning him around. “For his jump serves I wanted to work here, but I’ve been so careful of his bad knee-”
Your hand stroked down the back of Oikawa’s thigh, already knowing the athlete didn’t mind from working together the last couple of months. However, your eyes were set on Iwaizumi.
Skilled in acting quite indifferent, you watched the man for any reactions. Both of you knew the name of that muscle very well, there was no need to demonstrate. Yet here you were, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, Oikawa smirked over his shoulder as if Iwaizumi hadn’t felt your touch before.
He cleared his throat, making you smirk in victory. “I used to help him with that, could send you some notes later.” He looked down again to spare you his attention and waited for you to sit down before explaining how he would approach it.
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“You two sure seem close.” Your back was pressed against the bed after Oikawa left, your rival all over you and your shirt somewhere on the floor. Oikawa hurried out after one of the Japanese players asked him to join some party, but you had a sneaking suspicion Iwa had a hand in that request.
“I’m close with all my players. A trust-based relationship with your clients will make your programs more effective, and-” Iwa finally had enough of your attitude, holding his hand over your mouth and tucking his face into your neck, planting lustful kisses that might still be visible by morning.
“You’re such a nerd.”
“You wrote that part,” you argued after prying his hand off your face, only to suck his thumb into your mouth and circle it with your tongue.
Iwa straightened up to look at you with bated breath. “You vex me.”
“Take your clothes off and prove it.”
“You know the drill,” he said with that annoyingly attractive smile, already getting his pants off while you scooted over to adjust the lights.
“Whoever taps out first loses. May the best athletic trainer win.”
masterlist
for the requester: thank you soo much for your kind words! I can't believe I'm your favourite, that's such high praise<33 I hope this was okay!!
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bullet-prooflove · 20 hours
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One Night: Donovan Rocker x Reader
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Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @mirabee @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @one-sweet-gubler @victoriajhyde @telepathay @@winterrosies-blog @@mah2101 @avillagesperson @irishavengersassemble @crimeshowjunkie @haielsker-93 @whateversomethingbruh @watashiwasun @burningpeachpuppy @slytherqueen14 @brownskinbaby22 @lady-athanasia
Companion piece to Reputation
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You’ve ruined Donovan Rocker for anyone else. He realises that after the first night you spend together. It’s the most debauched night he’s had in his life, and it only continues the longer this thing between the two of you goes on.
With Val his sex life was vanilla, missionary once a month on date night. They’d tried a few other things, cowgirl, doggie style but Val liked what she liked, and he accommodated her. He’d had a couple of dates after the divorce, but they weren’t anything special. They’d helped him blow off a little steam, but they were nothing compared to the shit you get up to.
He thinks trust is the reason it works so well. It’s long established, he’s known you for a couple of years at this point. You’re on different teams these days. He’s a Sergeant on 50 Squad and you’re on 20. He thinks the fact you’re on the job gives you unique insight into why he is the way he is, why he craves the things he does. There’s no judgement from you when he asks for something a little intense, he’s discovered you like to play and explore as much as he does.
The only problem is, you treat this thing like it's casual, for Donovan it’s anything but.
You’ve given him a wild ride tonight, hand on his throat as you fuck him within an inch of his life. When you squeeze just right, he arches up into you, a moan tearing from his chest. When you come, you take him with you, dragging him over the edge as his cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink.
He’s barely had time to catch his breath before your slipping out from underneath his sheets. You scoop up your vest top from the floor, tugging it on over your curves so that it falls mid-thigh. His hand captures yours, tugging you back down onto the edge of the bed.
“Stay a little.” He requests.
“Donovan…”
He adores the way you say his name. He’s always been Rocker until that night in Noche, and now he’s Donovan, the man that loves you more than life itself.
“We’ve talked about this.” You remind him as he shifts into a sitting position. His hand comes to rest on upon your shoulder, his thumb skirting over the nape of your neck. Its an intimate little gesture, an admission that he wants more from arrangement the two of you have.
“We have.” He agrees as his lips follow suit, his heated mouth ghosts up the curve of your throat, his arms wrapping around you and drawing you back into the shelter of his body. “But what’s wrong with this?”
“Donovan…” You chide.
You’re giving in though, he can tell. It’s in the way you lean back into him. That smile on your lips as you let out that laugh, the one that makes his world just a little bit brighter. He’s found that ticklish spot just under the hinge of your jaw and now, he’s exploiting it.
“Stay.” He whispers into your ear.
“Just tonight.” You tell him. “Only one night.”
***
The problem is once you break one rule, it becomes easier to break the rest.
You’ve always had a reputation as the good girl. You follow orders with precision, you always play it safe. You’re solid, dependable. You’re also sleeping with a fellow officer, something that no one would ever suspect. You’ve always had a rule about dating cops, the first thing you learn as a woman on the force is not to fall into bed with a colleague. You’ve never had a problem with it until that night at Noche, the night Donovan walked into the bar where you played violin and saw the real you, the one you’ve kept hidden from everybody else. You’ve always been attracted to him but there was something special about that evening, you were coming off the high of performing and the way he looked at you…
You’ve never wanted someone so much.
It was meant to be a one-time thing but Donovan, he captivates you. You’ve always had a fascination with the edgier side of things, it’s the reason you dress the way you do when you play, it brings out the bad girl, the person you don’t get to be on SWAT. Donovan embraces that side of you, he understands it because deep down the two of you are exactly the same.
Which is why you stay over that night, because truly the two of you have something special. You just don’t want to be the woman that other cops think is fair game if things go sideways.
It doesn’t stop you from staying over on a regular basis, from kissing him goodbye on the doorstep when you leave. You go out for breakfast at the café around the corner, try to outpace each other during your morning run. When you’re sick, he comes over, takes care of you because he can’t stand the idea of you fending for yourself.
It becomes a full-blown relationship without you even realising it until one night you’re changing out an ice pack because he got clipped during an op. He takes it from you, hissing through his teeth before he places it upon the space where the bullet struck his vest. It had been close today; Stevens had told you when they’d gotten back to headquarters. It had freaked out his entire team.  It had scared the hell out of you.
“I love you.” You tell him, your thumb ghosting over his cheekbone as he looks up at you.
He reaches for your free hand, a smile playing across his lips as he pulls you down into his lap. Your thighs hug his hips, his fingertips brush a stray strand of hair back behind your ear as he looks into your eyes and says.
“I love you too.”
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malfiora · 24 hours
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I'm rewriting Jason's resurrection and reconciliation with the fam for my own sanity:
Jason dies tragically and horrifically at age 15
A year later, Superboy Prime punches through universes, collapsing two realities onto each other: one where Jason dies, the other in which he survives. Jason comes back to life but is semi-conscious. Talia finds him and takes him to the League
Jason regains full consciousness after a dip in the Lazarus. For two years, Jason trains and slowly regains his memories. Once he's 18, he decides to return to Gotham, despite Talia's wishes
Quickly becomes clear that Gotham hasn't changed much, which disappoints Jason. He decides to put his League training to use and control crime as a harm reduction tactic, and he goes back and forth on contacting Bruce, especially after he hears rumors of a new Robin
Joker pops up with a new scheme, and this is the last straw. Jason concocts a plan to kidnap and finally kill Joker and confront Batman about all the ways he's failed him and Gotham. When Batman refuses to kill Joker, Jason feints like he's going to kill Tim to "save him the trouble" since Batman clearly cares so little for his sidekicks. ("Hey, kid, at least I'll make it painless.") This gets a reaction from Batman, who incapacitates Jason and rescues Robin. Jason retreats to lick his wounds and reconsider everything
Jason takes time to ruminate on all of this. He's still hurt that his death meant nothing in the grand scheme of things but thinks about Batman's reaction to Tim being in danger and has to wonder if that's how he acted when Jason was in that warehouse
Out of morbid curiosity and a little bit of fanboyishness, Tim monitors Jason. Jason knows this and eventually confronts him. He feels bad for scaring Tim but has to maintain his edge so he tries not to be too scary. At some point, Tim speaks his mind and tells Jason that he has no idea what things were like while he was dead. "Batman was a mess, he almost killed people. That's why I became Robin. I had to put him back together, so you don't get to act like you know everything that happened the past 3 years because you been back a couple months." Jason takes this in. They part ways. (Jason: "Don't die." Tim: "Don't change.")
The Chemo incident happens. Jason rushes to Blüdhaven to make sure Dick is alive and okay, thus revealing he's alive to the Titans. After the dust settles, he and Dick talk privately so that Dick can react properly. (Dick: "No, Batman didn't tell me." Jason: "Yeah, he has a habit of doing that.")
Jason gets to ask if Tim's claim of Batman being a mess is founded. It is. He asks Dick if it's worth doing things the same way. "It is." That doesn't help.
Eventually Jason and Bruce have their equivalent of a heart to heart. Basically they both go, "I love you even if I think you're wrong."
Jason forms the Outlaws, but the moment he gets the distress call from the fam, he comes rushing back to help. He's offended that Bruce is surprised (Tim is hopeful, Dick isn't remotely shocked)
When Dick "dies," Jay comes back to take his place as Eldest Son. He sticks around through the end of the Robin War
Other important events that definitely happen but just don't fit neatly into a timeline:
Barbara and Jason team up on a mission shortly after Bruce tells Barbara that Jason is back. She's happy and immediately falls into big sister/mother hen mode and chides him for not seeing her sooner and makes him promise to stop by the clocktower regardless of whatever is happening between him and Bruce. She promises to help him upgrade his tech if he does. (Barbara has always been more lenient with killers and believes wholly in second chances.)
Cass stops Jason from killing someone who "deserves it," resulting in them fighting. Cass is better trained but she refuses to kill Jason, who won't stop. Eventually, they call a ceasefire and talk a bit. "All life has meaning," Cass says. Jason scoffs. "Even the Joker's?" "All life," she insists. Jason quietly disagrees but he respects Cass's determination. This starts a back and forth of him testing her anytime they're grouped together. ("Even this lowlife, Cass?" or "She's worth your own life?" or "They wouldn't spare you, why bother?") Each and every time she sticks to her principles.
Jay and Steph grab food together after a patrol one night and bond over being the family outcasts (i.e. the ones Bruce doesn't implicitly trust). Jason vows to make Steph his Robin if he ever becomes Batman. She laughs but is secretly touched
***I can never decide what to do with Damian. On the one hand, it's hilarious if Jason knows about him and keeps quiet about it. On the other, I don't see why Jason wouldn't tell Bruce about Damian's existence. Maybe once he's on speaking terms with Bruce again, he does tell him about Damian, which then prompts Jason to encourage Talia to let Damian meet Bruce. This is accelerated by Talia discovering Ra's' plan for Damian and wanting to get Damian away from the League
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gingiesworld · 2 days
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I Am Not Matt
Leigh Shaw x GN! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Unhappy ending
18+ MINORS DNI
Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)
Ever since Y/N had come into Leigh’s life, she had finally started to believe that she could move on, move past the grief that swallowed her whole. Y/N had always surprised her with flowers when they came home from work, took her out on spontaneous dates and even cooked her her favourite meal. Even though those gestures made Leigh see just how lucky she was to have such an attentive partner, she slowly started to withdraw herself from the relationship. The nights they would spend together between the sheets became little to non-existent, the spontaneous dates never really happened as Leigh always came up with some sort of excuse as to why she didn’t want to do it. Even when she received flowers soon fizzled out, Y/N soon started to realise that she was pulling further and further away. They barely spoke anymore, everytime Y/N would start up a conversation, Leigh would completely shut it down almost immediately.
“I’m off.” Y/N would say every morning when they saw her in the kitchen having her morning smoothie, their heart broke a little when she only shrugged. So they left without a single word off of Leigh. They spent their day working under the hot sun, wondering what had went wrong between the two of them.
“You look like you could do with a drink after work.” Jim stated as he helped Y/N by holding the plank of wood in place for Y/N to drill it into place. “Trouble in paradise?”
“You could say that.” They answered him.
“Then it’s settled, we’re having a drink and you can tell me all about it.” He told them before they both moved on to their next tasks. The day soon went by fairly quickly, work and banter with their colleagues slowly taking their mind off of their failing relationship. Soon they found themselves sitting in a booth at a bar not too far from the construction site. “So, talk to us.” Jim told them once they had their first drink.
“You know Leigh and I have been together for a couple of years right.” Jim nodded and waited for them to continue. “I think she.” They took a deep breath. “She’s pulling away from me and I don’t know how I can fix it.”
“Have you tried talking to her?” He questioned as they just nodded.
“She doesn’t even talk to me anymore. There’s no communication with her and I am trying, I am really trying to do everything I can to try and make it right and make it work.” They rambled on as they played with their glass, swirling the liquid within. “I don’t think she loves me anymore.” They whispered sadly before they downed their drinks.
“How long has this been going on for?” He asked as Y/N shrugged.
“Months.” They told him honestly. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed anymore, I know she gets out of our bed once she thinks I’m asleep.”
“Do you think she could be cheating on you?” He asked them as they shrugged.
“I don’t know.” They looked at him sadly. “I just, I love her more than anything and I don’t think she will ever feel for me the way I feel for her.”
“Well, I think you really need to make a decision, you have got to do what makes you happy.” He told them. “If your relationship is failing, and you’re the only one who is putting in all of the effort, it’s best to jump ship.”
“I was going to propose on our next anniversary.” They admitted. “I already have the ring and everything prepared.”
“I’m so sorry buddy.” Was all he could say before Y/N grabbed their wallet and left, paying the tab beforehand. They hadn’t realized the time when they had gotten home, seeing Leigh sat on the sofa, her eyes glued to the door in which they entered.
“Where were you?” She questioned them angrily. “You were supposed to be home hours ago!”
“So you finally noticed me?” They sneered as they moved towards the kitchen. “You’ve spent months ignoring me, forgetting I even exist.”
“Have you been drinking?” She questioned as they just laughed at her. “Are you cheating on me?”
“Why would I cheat on you, huh?!” They questioned angrily. “You know that is something I would never do! I don’t make promises just to break them, and I am not Matt.”
“No, you’re nothing like Matt.” Leigh seethed. “He knew me! He loved me!”
“If he loved you, he wouldn’t have cheated on you!” They yelled. “I wouldn’t ever cheat on you. You know the kind of person I am, when I want a relationship, I want to know that there is a future. You know very well I don’t do flings and I never saw you as just a fling.” They looked in her eyes sadly, reaching into their pocket. “I wanted everything with you, I wanted to build a life and a future with you. I love you so fucking much.” Their tears started to fall as they spoke. “But I know that you don’t love me, I was just a means to help you to try and forget your pain. It’s more like an addiction to you, and once I wasn’t doing it for you anymore, you go back into this place. You shut everyone out, everyone who loves, when was even the last time you spent time with your mom or Jules these past few months?”
“I see them every day.” She answered them with a scoff.
“At work!” They yelled. “You haven’t seen them at any other time! You go to work and then come home. Maybe you go to the store on some days to get you endless bottles of wine.”
“This isn’t even the point I was getting at!” She yelled in frustration, making Y/N laugh loudly.
“You haven’t spoke a single word to me, and you have the nerve to think I would hurt you.” They told her shakily. “You have no idea how much you have hurt me, you shut me out, I had no idea what I had done wrong, I was trying to figure it out for months. But, I had done things the way I have always done them since I first asked you out. I continued to do all of the things that made you smile, or laugh. I genuinely thought we had a future.” Leigh watched as Y/N had completely detached themselves from her. “I do love you, but I can’t do this anymore.” They told her as they pointed between themselves. “I can’t keep allowing myself to get hurt because I love you so much. It’s not fair on me.”
“What are you saying?” Leigh questioned, the first sound of regret in her voice.
“I’m saying it’s over.” They told her bluntly. “Us, we’re done. I’m done.” They sighed as Leigh just watched as they moved towards their room, grabbing a bag before packing some of their belongings. “I’m going to sign myself off of the lease.”
“You can’t.” Leigh whispered as she watched them from the doorway.
“I have to.” They told her as they zipped up their bag. “I need to leave before what we have kills me, and you need to move on. Just because you’re still alive while he’s not, doesn’t mean that you can’t learn to love someone new. You deserve to be happy Leigh, you just need to heal first instead of hiding from the pain.”
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satanghulu · 2 days
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lucky strike! 
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satan x f!reader series
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✦ SUMMARY: Your luck has always been terrible, you knew that. But getting dumped a month before your wedding was not on your bingo card for the year. It seemed like you only had the shittest luck meeting the worst kind of men until you went on Craigslist. Hm? A cat-loving blond man was willing to accept your listing? ✦ WARNING: Modern AU, fake dating, reader works in the corporate world (not specified), fluff, unresolved emotional tension, mentions of cheating (reader's ex), reader and satan are noted to be in their late 20s, drunk texting ✦ WC: 7.8K
| PART ONE | PART TWO | MASTERLIST
══════════════════
Luck is a mysterious and unexplainable phenomenon. Unfortunately, the God of Luck has never cared enough to shine down on you. Your unluckiness manifested in all sorts of ways; from birds pooping on you to delayed flights. It was a recurring theme in your life. But seriously? Getting cheated on by your ex, a month before your wedding is a new low, even for you. 
You slumped over the table, hair tangled as you rubbed at your eyes. The murmured voices in the background blend together as you refuse to lift your head from where you are currently face down on the table.
“Hey… are you sure you’re alright?” A gentle hand touches your shoulder and you resist the urge to flinch and snarl at the voice to go away so that you could drown yourself in your sorrows – maybe in the sink in the washroom, which was becoming much more tempting by the minute.
Regrettably, you remember that you had called over reinforcements from when your stupid, shitty, rotten, pathetic ex had flaked on you through text so that you don’t try to do something stupid. 
And now, you had company, but all you wanted to do was maybe throw yourself off a building so that you wouldn’t wake up in humiliation the next morning. Seriously, you still can’t believe that this manchild had the audacity to break up with you over text, and he even flaunted his new partner hours later on social media.
…He had never posted you on his account, citing that he didn't see the purpose of it. You scoffed, laughing at yourself for your stupidity in believing him. It wasn’t that, you just weren’t important enough for him to want to do it.
You could feel your eyes start to get wet and you vehemently tried to force those tears to go back into your tear duct. You were not going to waste a single tear on a man, especially on one as despicable as him. 
In his defense, you couldn’t say that you didn’t see this coming. He’s been acting much more distant lately, unwilling to even hug you when he leaves the house to go to work. Your sex life had also been at an all-time low. You remember just a couple weeks back when you had dolled up in the cutest set of lingerie you had owned and waited for him but you ended up sleeping on the couch when he didn’t make it back throughout the night.
You had just convinced yourself that the stress of the wedding planning got to him and didn’t bother investigating further. But honestly, you weren’t an idiot. You could smell the unfamiliar reek of perfume practically wafting off him whenever he returned from “work”. But you played it off, thinking that you were being an anxious freak.
…At least he had the foresight to break up with you on a Friday night instead of a weekday. You would hate to drag yourself to work in this state. 
You groaned again, finally lifting your face from the table when you were sure that you weren’t going to burst into tears. However, as you met the worried glances on your friends’ faces, a sob unilaterally ended up escaping from your throat.
Before you knew it, you were crumbling and breaking down with tears streaming from your eyes. God, now you were being pathetic.
.
After bawling your eyes out and evaporating whatever sort of water you had left in your body, you were finally ready to pick yourself up and move on. You told your friends as much albeit with your eyes blotched with tear stains and a warbled voice.
“Er babe, not to rain on your parade but what about the photoshoot?” Your friend cautiously asked, hands raised for protection as if afraid that you would throw a bottle at her. Though, that thought did run through your brain for a split second. Your lips parted with surprise as a jolt ran through you. You don’t answer your friend right away as you pause to search through your jumbled memories.
Fuck, she was right. Your scumbag of an ex had wanted to cheap out on the wedding costs and had persuaded you to opt for a more reasonably priced package but it came with conditions – no refunds and no cancellation. This meant that he had fucked you up again.
You could feel the waterworks and stress bubbling up inside of you, as you buried your face into the palms of your hand. The next time you see your stupid whore of an ex again, you swear you were going to fuck him upside down.
.
After a much-needed sleep, you finally gathered up your courage to call the wedding planner that well, you wouldn’t be needing their services anymore. She had been sympathetic in her response but had immediately still tried to sell you another package – as if you hadn’t just been broken up with or were even ready to dip your toes into the dating pool. You should be angry but it was hard to muster up any emotions when you just felt empty.
It was unfortunate that all of the bookings had been made under your name else, you would have just let that pathetic bastard cancel all of the appointments. You were not looking forward to the next call. In a fit of nervousness, you stood up to pace around the room.
All you had left was the final boss. You swallow thickly as you shakily bring up the contact profile of your photographer. The first time you had met him, he had chewed you out about every single thing possible from your fashion sense to the way you talk. You swear that for some reason, this guy had a vengeance out for you.
For once, you hoped that your photographer could find the compassion buried deep down inside his rotten heart to be nice to you. 
“What do you want?” The all-so-familiar satiric voice bleeds through the line and your grip on your phone turns tighter, as if it was trying to escape.
You winced. 
It seemed like you had caught him in a bad mood.
“Hi Mephisto, just wanted to ask how you are doing?” In a fake voice, your first course of action was to butter him up.
“How many times have I told you that my name is Mephistopheles? We are not close enough for you to call me by that.” 
If words could hurt, you were sure that you would be scalded and burnt by the sheer force of his acidic tone. Somehow, today his words held even more venom than usual.
“Damn okay. What got your panties in a twist today, Mephistopheles? I was just checking in on you,” You tried again, keeping your tone light while you hurriedly punched down the urge to reach out across the virtual world to wrap your hands around his neck.
“Quit it. What do you want? You must be calling for something. I’ve already told you that there are no refunds or cancellations, so if it’s about that, you can go ahead and hang up now.” With that, you could see your imaginary money waving pitifully across the river bank. 
With a tight smile, you briefly contemplated the choices laid out for you. Maybe you should just take a bath with your toaster plugged in tonight? Sleeping on the train track is shaping up to sound like a great idea as well.
“Well, no. I just wanted to know if it’s possible to push back the date for the photoshoot?” With an airy laugh, you gritted out your words. 
Your petty self would not let your stupid ex have the last laugh, you were going to make sure to live your life happily and take those damn wedding photos.
A few seconds passed before you heard a condescending laugh on the other side of the line. “Did you get dumped?” For some reason, Mephistopheles always had a sixth sense regarding the state of your relationship. The last time you had gotten into a tiff with your ex before a consultation, Mephistopheles had chortled right in your face and told the pathetic bastard to buckle up.
Your silence must have answered his question because you could hear an even louder cackle through the phone to the point where you were sure he must be tearing up or choking on his saliva. Unfortunately, there went all chances of saving any sort of money or dignity.
With a click, you promptly hung up the call. There was no point dealing with him when he was in this state. You chucked your phone on the sofa, letting out a huge groan as it bounced off and hit the floor. Thankfully, the screen didn’t shatter else, it might have been your tipping point.
As you collapsed on the couch, praying for your demise to come, a ding caught your attention. Turning your attention to where your phone had landed, a message flashed brightly across the screen.
[11:05AM] pretentious bitch: I’ll allow you to postpone and change the concept of the photoshoot. Let me know if you find a person who is willing to take pictures with you.
[11:06AM] pretentious bitch: I’ll only wait for two months. Any longer and I will cancel the booking. No refunds.
You went through different variations of mildly concerning threats before settling on an amicable phrase that you could send to him without the police knocking on your door.
[11:06AM] You: thanks. ill lyk soon.
And with that message sent, you swiftly threw your phone (safely this time). You watch it slide, unharmed to the other side of the couch. With a deep breath, you stood up ready to conquer the day. You were not going to let yourself mope around in the house.
.
“Yukiii,” You pleaded with a hopeful gaze, hands clasped tightly around hers. “Help meee, I don’t know anyone who can do a photoshoot with me,” With as much pitifulness as you could muster, you flashed her the saddest look you could.
Your friend sends you a tight-lipped smile as she purses her lip with furrowed eyebrows. “I would love to but I don’t think I know anyone available for a photo shoot,” With that answer, you immediately slammed your head down on the table with a loud thud – causing the waiter who had been walking over with your order to retrace his steps.
“Urgh…. Why does life hate me,” You mumbled indistinctively from your position even as Yuki pinched the skin on the back of your hand in an attempt to get you to be more socially aware of your surroundings. With a loud sigh, she pried open your entwined hands and twisted the side of your ear hard.
With a loud cry of pain, you finally sat properly in your seat with a sulk. After getting your attention, she cleared her throat while folding her hands primly on the table. “I think you can try your luck on Craigslist. Try listing for a photo shoot partner online, people might just contact you.” 
“Why didn’t I think of that? You’re the best, thank you!” You almost want to launch yourself across the table to kiss her for her wit and barely held back. Yuki fixes you with a threatening stare and thus you settle yourself deeper into your seat with a chastised pout.
.
After all your bravado earlier, you were at an impasse. How on earth do you write a listing without it reeking of desperation? You brooded over a cup of tea, that was now lukewarm due to your fickleness, as you scowled at the screen of your laptop, unable to type another word.
Looking for a partner to shoot an HK-style photoshoot with! Free of charge and I can provide you with free entertainment and pictures of cats. I will provide more details once you message me! Also attached is a photo of me so that you know that I’m not a scammer.
You stared at the words blankly, before emphatically deciding, to hell with it, and posted it.
.
You wake up in the middle of the night, throat parched and the light on your phone blinking obnoxiously in the darkness. Who on earth is blowing up your phone -- you checked the time on the screen, eyes half-closed -- at 4 in the fucking morning?
After grabbing a cup of water and planting yourself in front of your screen. You looked in dismay at the hundreds of notifications that flooded your inbox and instantly regretted putting a picture of yourself up on the listing. The amount of unwanted pictures you got was abysmal and you hurriedly deleted all emails with attachments. As you were about to delete the last email in the thread, you accidentally misclicked and the page popped up.
[12:25AM] 
[email protected]: Dear Miss, could you please provide more information about the photoshoot? I am interested to hear more and if all goes well, I have some terms of my own to provide too. You can contact me at the number attached: XXX XXX XXX
Thank you and I wish for your timely response.
Yours sincerely,
Satan
What was up with this guy? You squinted at your phone screen, rubbing your eyes to get a better look. You marveled at how awkward and formal he managed to sound over an email for a listing that you took at most five minutes to write.
But he was your best bet considering the rest of your emails are filled with unwanted appendages that you certainly weren’t in the mood to look at. And at least, you were confident that he wasn’t going to send you unsolicited messages for now. Regardless, a new contact profile was created, and you threw yourself back in bed while mulling over a message to craft.
[05:15AM] You: hi, thanks for reaching out! i got ur number off the email u sent to me abt the craigslist thing. can i ask what conditions u have? ill also send the mood board here. dw i also hv the outfit prepared tho u may need to alter it if it doesnt fit u or u can also get ur own fit. 
[05:20AM] You: Attachment sent - 1 File
[05:21AM] You: oh sorry abt the late msg, i didnt notice the time haha
In your efforts to keep yourself awake for a little while longer, you thought that it would be a good idea to scroll through articles on stranger danger. Quickly, the memory of your plastered picture on the internet haunts you and from the articles, it appeared that you had already failed the first step in keeping yourself safe. 
With a grimace on your face, you quickly took down the listing on the website and prayed that whoever this Satan guy was, he would come through so you wouldn’t need to put yourself back up on the Internet.
.
Birds chirped distantly in the background as you groggily reached for your phone. It seemed that sleep had claimed you while you were surfing the net for cute animal videos. Somehow, you had woken up much more tired than you had been when you went back to sleep.
With one arm raised to shield your eyes from the sunlight peeking through the blinds, you checked your notifications and almost dropped your phone in your state of sleep.
[08:10AM] Satan: Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have run through the mood board and it seems good. Also, no worries about the outfit. I will be able to provide one. For my condition, I would prefer that we meet up in person to discuss it. Would that be alright with you? Do let me know what time would work best for you.
You almost puked in your mouth. Would it be wrong to say that he seems a lot more suspicious now? Also, what was up with his concept? You barely resist the urge to throw your phone across the room and inhaled a much-needed breath of fresh air and instantly choked on it -- screw it, what was wrong with this guy? 
Suddenly, you very much regret placing your personal information up on the internet for the whole world to see. The articles on stranger danger flitted through your brain and you grimaced at the thought of the possibility of being trafficked.
You have watched enough true crime podcasts to know that this was sufficient for sirens to be blaring and your guard to be up. In your head, an imaginary true crime commentator deduced that he could either be trying to get into your pants or perhaps, searching for his next victim. With your hackles up, you quietly tried to swipe away from his profile when you noticed something. 
With a peer at the saved contact profile, you realised that Satan must have saved your number seeing as there were now multiple display photos for you to scroll through.
You gaped at what you saw.
A pretty blonde man with a cat. He was cute, in that classic pretty boy style that was unfortunately exactly your type. With an excited hum, you scroll through the stranger’s photos. It was a visual treat. Your eyes trailed over the sharp angles of his face before belatedly noticing that he had on a pair of glasses. You might just about faint.
After catching a glance at yourself in the mirror, you swiftly straightened up and frowned. You were not going to go against your morals and fawn over a random stranger you had met over the Internet. For all you knew, he could be catfishing you. 
(He wasn’t. You had reverse image-searched his photo on the net so that you could further stalk look him up but you couldn’t find much additional information on him.)
[10:12AM] You: sure! we can meet at this location tomorrow at 1pm?
[10:12AM] You: Location sent
Admittedly, it didn’t take you much time to, well, go against your morals but you didn’t have any other choices to fall back at the moment. Either way, it was only a meeting in a public place so if the situation went awry, you would still be relatively safe.
Plus… it would be a shame to not see that handsome face in person at least once.
.
It’s about fifteen minutes from your scheduled meet-up with this stranger at the cafe you selected. Oddly enough, you haven’t started to feel the nerves set in which was uncharacteristic of you, considering the old you would have already been in the washroom trying to drown yourself in the sink.
But you do feel terribly out of place sitting alone. Wherever your sight falls on, there was always a couple being lovey-dovey and almost distastefully happy, rubbing salt in your wound. Thankfully, before you can start burning holes into your cup, a low voice abruptly cuts through your thoughts to call out your name.
“Hello. Are you the one who made the Craigslist post?”
Alarmed, you quickly raise your gaze from the table to meet bright green eyes. Silently, you brought a hand to your nose to check if your nose has started bleeding. The photos you had seen earlier did not do this angel man any justice. You could almost see a halo of light behind his head. 
Satan was much more handsome in person.
“Did I get the wrong person?” 
You could see the man’s eyebrow furrow as he glanced at his phone before examining at your face. You were too caught up in staring at him to realise that you had forgotten to give a reply. Hurriedly, you scrambled to tug on his sweater as he turned to leave.
“Oh sorry. Yes. That’s me.” Your voice came out stilted, as your back aligned as straight as a ruler. Thankfully, it seemed that Satan was too busy looking around the interior of the cafe to notice your mini-mental breakdown.
“Satan right? It’s good to meet you,” Without forgetting your manners, you offered a hand. Satan regarded your outreached palm with a passive expression before accepting it courteously. A few seconds passed as your eyes took in the view before you appreciatively. 
An awkward cough cut your daydreaming short.
“Could you please let go of my hand now?” Satan said politely.
You mumbled an apology, shuffling back in your seat with a red face resembling a tomato. Belatedly, you hadn’t noticed that you were still grasping onto his hand, tightly. How did you already make an embarrassment of yourself on the very first meeting?
“Right. We’re here to talk about the conditions, correct?” You started, leaning back into your seat to get into a more comfortable position. Satan pulls out the chair opposite you and sets his briefcase on the floor. At a glance, you notice the various luxury brand logos on his person; taking a double look at the sweater which was easily more than what you make in a month.
Satan nodded, leaning down to rummage through his briefcase before pulling out a stack of paper to place on the table. You dumbly stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers.
You reckon that if your jaw wasn’t already unhinged during your leering session earlier, it would have made a comically loud sound.
“A contract?” You said lost, rubbing the back of your neck when he slid the document over for you to read. Maybe, he really was a serial killer and he was about to make you sign your life away in an unfair contract.
 COMMERCIAL CONTRACT 
THIS AGREEMENT is made and entered into this XXX…
You barely get through the first sentence before the peculiarity of the situation dawns on you. Somewhere, in the depths of your subconscious, a metaphorical Yuki was screaming right in your ears, “What the hell is wrong with you?!” while shaking you by the shoulders. Alas, she wasn’t here so you opened your mouth instead. 
“What is the contract for?” You inquired hesitantly, scanning through the pile of paper, and wondered whether it was possible to rewind time.
Satan looks up from his phone, (when had he even taken out his device?), before replying matter-of-factedly, “An exchange for services. You require my help for the photoshoot and I require your attendance for a schedule. This arrangement works out perfectly for us, I would say.”
That was certainly an unconventional way of thinking. You were impressed by his …uniqueness. You were almost moved by his little spiel to sign the contract.
You blinked. “Do we really require a contract? I can just help, you know? I mean, you’re doing me a service by helping out with the shoot.”
Satan turns to face you again, evidently bored. “Do you need time to read through the contract? We can do the signing at a later date.”
What a jerk. He just ignored your question.
“Could you please tell me more about your conditions first?” You tried again, keeping your voice even with fists clenched under the table.
He looked at you, with an edge of displeasure in the set of his mouth. “I may need your attendance for an event where you will need to act as my romantic partner.”
“That doesn’t tell me much-- Wait-- Are you asking me to pretend to date you?” You spluttered, thrown off by the derail in the conversation.
He went quiet, wearing the most uncomfortable expression you have seen so far.
“No. Just your attendance for an event to give off the impression that we are in romantic relations.” Satan said sharply, as you nodded along to his words.
“Uh. Right. So fake dating.” You were still befuddled by his sudden proposition, leaning closer. “So, what does this entail? And what event is this for?”
“Everything is in the contract. Please refer to it instead of asking me.” Satan looks pointedly at the stack of paper arranged in front of you. 
You let out a weary exhale. In the five minutes that you have known this man, he has proven himself time and time again to be a douche. You didn’t want to argue with someone that you had just met but it was vexing trying to communicate with him who was refusing to cooperate while you tried to pry information from the clutches of his grip. Before you could stop yourself, you pushed the documents to the other side of the table.
“Satan. I’m not going to sign the contract. It’s fairly unreasonable to spring this onto someone who you just met for the first time. Just let me know what are your conditions so we can discuss further.”
For the first time since you met him, Satan stares at you as if he is searching for something within you. You paused for a second, fumbling for words that didn’t sound remotely stupid before adding, “There must be an issue. Are you afraid about something?”
You must have hit the jackpot as Satan remained silent, leaving your question hanging in the air.
“Is a contract really necessary?” You pressed.
You watched as Satan seemed to battle his inner thoughts, face scrunching up adorably. “I will… retract the contract as you wish. You’re right. I was hasty in presuming a contract was needed. I apologise for my mistake.”
The quick apology on his part was a pleasant surprise. You never had anyone admit their mistake so quickly before and he didn’t even try to shift the blame to you! You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back before letting out an amused chuckle.
You waved a hand, dismissing his apology. “Thank you. Anyways, if you want to go forward with this fake dating thing, won’t we need to know each other better too?” Satan stares at you strangely as you blow gently on your iced coffee.
There’s a pause.
“Correct. I was hoping that we could correspond on a cover story and I would also like to get the chance to know you better as well.” You nod along in agreement this time sensing that this would turn out to be a long talk.
It was only after the meeting that you realised Satan never answered your question. 
.
You scratched your head as you turned around looking for the egg that you had set down on the counter as you reflected on the meeting today. Honestly, the meeting went better than you had expected. Both of you had left the cafe pretty late. Thankfully, Satan turned out to be much nicer and a better conversational partner than you had guessed from his first impression.
After locating your egg on the table, you proceeded to whisk your mixture together when a loud bzzt caught your attention from where your phone was lying on the counter. Holding the mixing bowl under one arm, you took a cursory glance at the screen.
[07:32PM] Satan: Hello, this is a refresher on the meeting we had earlier. I have compiled the notes in the PDF below. Please take a look and let me know if I have missed out on anything.
[07:32PM] Satan: Attachment Sent - 1 File
…This guy was so uptight. Does he have a stick up his ass?
Continuing to stir the batter, you squint at the message again. Had all of the joy in his life been sucked out? You decide to take it upon yourself to educate him about having some fun.
[07:35PM] You: looks great! also, i think u need to relax :< if anyone sees ur phone, they wld think that im ur business partner instead of ur gf lol
Satan is typing…
Satan is typing…
You waited by your phone for a minute, leaning against the kitchen island. When no reply comes, you decided to start buttering up your frying pan to get started.
[07:40PM] Satan: Right, sorry. I’ll try my best.
The message flashes on the screen, and you let out a small chuckle. It was rather endearing to see him take such a long time to type such a short message.
[07:40PM] You: shld we hv nicknames for each other? or nah, ik some couples dont do petnames
[07:41PM] Satan: Yeah, nicknames will make it more believable. Are you alright with honey?
[07:42PM] You: works with me. what do i call u? tantan??
[07:43PM] Satan: I’m 29. Please do not call me that.
[07:49PM] You: bringing ur age into this? okay old man. ill js call u babe then. also brb let me cook
[07:50PM] Satan: Go ahead. Also, isn’t this a case of a kettle calling the pot black?
You let out a scandalised gasp even as you bite back a laugh over the loud sizzling from your pan. Your kitchen timer beeps distantly in the background, signaling you to check on the stew bubbling in the back. 
[08:30PM] You: never tell a lady shes old!!! thats the first rule in How to Woo A Lady 101 (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
[09:10PM] Satan: Alright then, my apologies to the lady. 
[09:10PM] Satan: Also, I’ll be heading to bed soon. Sleep well.
[09:15PM] You: ???? its 9??
[09:16PM] You: r u fr?? ure actually sleeping already??
[09:16PM] You: n u deny the claim that ure old…….. ok pops, lets get u to bed.
[09:17PM] You: goodnight ig. and also thks for helping out w the shoot! i rlly appreciate it.
Your messages were indeed left on delivered till the morning.
.
The commute to work was tough even though you do this every week. The lights in the building were grating and you were already sweating, having to squeeze into this tiny elevator with everyone else. God, it wasn’t like your company was lacking in money. Why couldn’t they upgrade the damn elevator? After elbowing someone in the chest, you finally made your way out of the elevator to your desk.
“Good morning!” A voice called out as you placed your bag on the table. The cheery voice was too loud in the early morning and you turned around to snap at the person. It was Simeon, holding a mug of coffee in his hand. The retort immediately dies on your tongue.
“Morning.” You greeted back, miserably.
Simeon just laughs at you before handing you a packet of coffee from his pocket. “Take it. I brought this for you to chase away the Monday blues.”
“Simeon, this is why you’re my favourite.” Eagerly, you grabbed the sachet and stared at the label for a second. “That’s the brand I always get! Seriously, you’re the best.” 
If it wasn’t for the fact that you were at work, you would have jumped to hug him. Simeon reaches past you to grab your mug and raises an eyebrow. 
“Pantry?” He questions.
You follow Simeon to the pantry, making small talk along the way. He places your cup in front of the coffee machine, motioning for you to take over the process. As you work on making your coffee, he leans back on the fridge to study your expression. 
“Are you okay?”
The sound of the coffee machine whirring to life thrums in the silence enveloping the both of you. “My wedding is off.” You finally admit when Simeon continues to wait as he inches closer, practically crowding you against the wall.
“He called it off.” You diligently kept your gaze on the appliance, not wanting to risk seeing pity in Simeon’s expression. You had thought that you had done a good job keeping yourself together but Simeon had seen through your facade at one glance.
Simeon opens his mouth to reply but the tell-tale sound of footsteps grows louder and sure enough, the pantry suddenly swarms with black-suited employees. He pins you with an expression that screams “We’ll talk more about this later”. Finally, the soft ping of the coffee machine announces the completion of your drink. Quickly, you swoop up your mug and brush past Simeon to head back to your table.
“See you at lunch!” He calls out from behind you.
That’s fair. Although Simeon works in another department, he has always been your closest friend in this forsaken company. The difference in departments had rather helped both of you blossom a camaraderie and you would like to presume that he thinks of you as a dear friend as well.
It doesn’t mean that you still want to talk about that though.
Finally, you slink back to your desk before anyone else can stop you.
.
The clock read half past eleven. You stand up from your desk to head for lunch – earlier than your usual break at twelve but it was a necessary sacrifice to avoid seeing Simeon. However, as you round the corner to the elevator, you spot Simeon coming out from his office.
Urgently, you dashed into the lift and smashed the ‘close’ button. Please, please, please. The doors were closing at a snail’s pace and you could see the delayed realisation on Simeon’s face as he dashed over. However, you were faster than him.
“Thank you.” 
Or so you thought.
Unfortunately, a passing colleague had noticed the situation and held the door open for Simeon who thanked him with a smile. You quickly wipe off the dismay on your face, “Oh Simeon! I didn’t think you take your lunch this early haha…”
He only looks at you in disapproval. 
The lift door closed gently behind him as a silence filled the air. “I’m sorry.” You say, head down. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.”
Simeon only sighs. 
“You could have told me. We could just grab lunch and not talk about it, you know.” Thoroughly reprimanded, you kept your head down, suddenly finding his loafers very interesting.
Your knee-jerk reaction was to accept his suggestion and disregard this entire conversation. But you know that it wouldn’t do you any good, especially in the long run. Simeon only had your best interests at heart and it's a clear fact that he cares about you. Yet, you still feel dread at the idea of opening up and talking about Feelings™.
But you have to try, at least to reciprocate his efforts. Taking in a deep breath, you started. “I saw this coming--“
The lift lets out a cheerful ding, cutting you off as it arrives at the lobby. For a moment, both of you don’t move but as people start trickling in, you grab Simeon by the arm to drag him out.
.
Inside the restaurant that Simeon picked out, you bemoaned and bitched about your ex and the tumultuous entirety of your relationship. At some point, Simeon had even ordered more sides and drinks as you continued ranting. 
“I’m just upset that I wasn’t the one who broke it off.” You end, somewhat petulantly. It’s the same mantra you repeated to yourself the past weekend; deluding yourself that it was the only reason why you were upset.
Simeon just looks at you with a somewhat tired glance before adding, “He was honestly a bastard. It’s a blessing in disguise that you guys broke up.” You whipped your head up to look at him with surprise, dropping your chopsticks with a clatter.
Nice, friendly, kind Simeon was cursing? For whatever reason, that made you burst out into a peal of laughter – you covered your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle the sound when a vibration caught your attention.
[12:11PM] yuki <3333: club on fri. not takin no as an ans
[12:11PM] yuki <3333: the rest r comin too
[12:11PM] You: 🙁
[12:12PM] yuki <3333: dress hot. see u
[12:15PM] You: k…
Simeon looks at you curiously as you tap away on your phone. You pursed your lips as you turned your phone in his direction for him to read. 
“Yuki asked me to go clubbing on Friday. I haven’t clubbed in years!” You threw your hands up in exasperation, almost flipping your bowl by accident. You quietly collect yourself when you notice the glares from the neighbouring table.
“Ah.” Simeon laughs as he glides the phone back to you.
“You should go though? I think it would be good for you to take your mind off…recent events.” 
You frowned deeply, gesturing vaguely in exasperation before flopping into your seat. You didn’t want to go down without a fight but you couldn’t refute his sentiment.
“You’re right.” You grumbled. “Urgh. I hate you. Why are you always giving me such good advice?” You sniffed, as you wriggled a finger at him accusingly.
“It comes with the job. Come on, let’s head back to work.”
.
After leaving your office, you finally have the time to check the notifications on your phone. You were terribly busy after coming back from lunch with Simeon. Some asshole in your team had messed up and the boss had called for all hands on deck – leading you to be overworked on the first day of the week.
With a sigh, you swiped to open the notification from Satan.
[03:10PM] Satan: Good afternoon. I would like to make a proposition that we start a daily chat so that we can get to know each other better.
[05:40PM] You: sure! how was ur day, satan?
[05:50PM] Satan: It was good. I had a late start to the day so I spent the time with my cat. How was yours?
[06:10PM] You: U HV A CAT???? omg. send pics now. 
[06:11PM] You: my day was great, thanks for asking. i had lunch w a co-worker
[06:16PM] Satan: Album - Video
[06:16PM] Satan: His name is Mr Bubbles.
You opened the video and immediately let out a squeal. This had already made your day a hundred times better. You couldn’t believe that Mr. Stick Up His Ass had such an adorable cat.
[06:18PM] Satan: That’s nice. What did you eat for lunch?
[06:18PM] You: OMG! hes so cute!
[06:19PM] You: wait lol is that why ur email is mrbubbleslover
[06:20PM] Satan: Smart. I use his name for my personal email.
[06:22PM] You: thats so cute lol
With a smile creeping on your face, the conversation between Satan and you continues throughout your commute home. Without even realising it, you had already arrived at your apartment.
.
Friday evening finally rolled around. The week had passed in a blur and the only thing that kept you sane was the daily reprieve when Satan texted you. It was on a fast track to becoming your favourite part of the day. Feeling generous, you decided to stop by Simeon’s office on your way out to bless him with your presence.
“Simeon!” You flung the door open with a dramatic gasp, “Wanna come with me tonight?”
The office was as pristine as ever. The colour-coded filing cabinet was pulled open as Simeon rummaged through it to search for a document. His office always reminds you of a hospital, with the bitter hint of antiseptic lingering in the air. You had previously complained about the smell but he was adamant in disinfecting his office every few hours to not bring any germs home.
Without looking up, Simeon answers. “I can’t, I have to take care of Luke.” 
Simeon doesn’t even need to check. As always, the only possible person who would disturb him at this hour was you.
“You’re giving up a chance to go out with me for a puppy?” You say, pouting from your position in the doorway. The answer was expected, Simeon was the kind of person who would rather spend time indoors with his pet than out at a bar. 
“Boringg.” You droned, still intent on teasing him.
“Unfortunately, Luke is still young and I would hate to leave him alone on a Friday night,” Simeon quipped back, sliding an unimpressed look your way. You heaved your bag higher up on your shoulder as you sighed, realising it was a lost cause.
“Fine, I’ll leave first then. See you.” Simeon just waves you off, as he continues in his work.
With his dismissal, you quickly exit the office – thankfully not bumping into anyone you know. The employees at this company were talkative. Once, you had spent a whole hour stuck in a conversation with your superior in the lift lobby. Simeon had just given you a pitiful look as he walked past you to leave.
On the commute home, you spent time doing your daily catch-up with Satan. You had learned much about the once-elusive man. You could rattle off a whole list – he had six brothers and a half-sister, he likes green, he’s an acclaimed professor with multiple degrees, the list just goes on. It’s a given that he knows as much about you too. 
Briefly, you wonder if this little transactional relationship was spiraling into something bigger.
[06:13PM] Satan: Stay safe while clubbing.
[06:22PM] You: aye, aye sir
.
For the next hour or so, you spent your time getting ready as you waited for Yuki to arrive at your apartment to pick you up. You couldn’t tell if you were nervous. The clubbing scene has long ceased to be familiar to you – it was also the first time since the start of your previous relationship.
A chime sounds throughout the room and you struggle to put on your pair of heels. The incessant chiming of the doorbell alerts you to the urgency of the person on the other side of the door.
“Stop trying to break my doorbell.” You huffed.
“Sorry.” The amusement on Yuki’s face says otherwise.
You wait for her to lead the way but she pauses to glance down at you approvingly. “You look insane.” She remarks before tugging you by the hand, uncaring even as you stumble shakily down the hallway.
What an impatient woman.
“You could just say I look good.” You retort.
 Yuki just laughs in response. The conversation between both of you flows easily from there and before you know it, you have arrived at the place.
.
Sensing your apprehension, Yuki slows down while approaching the table, giving you a chance to gather your composure together. You slide your palm up and down your thighs, to try and fend off the tension building up within you, in a sort of comforting motion.
A chortle of greetings rings throughout the table. There was a flurry of motion and suddenly, you were no longer standing but sitting by an acquaintance’s side. Both of you exchanged pleasantries, and time seemed to pass quickly.
At some point, drinks started coming out. With a couple of drinks in your system, you began to open up, your past inhibitions forgotten. For the most part, you bitch about your superiors, your stupid ex, and then for some reason, you brought up Satan. 
Another couple of drinks blurs your judgment and suddenly, you get an intense urge to check in on him. With enough liquid courage and cheering from your friends, you whipped out your phone to draft a text.
[11:50PM] You: hi
[11:50PM] You: imisyyou
[11:52PM] You: hAHHA u knowwwww
[11:55PM] You: urrrrrrrrrr xtee
[11:56PM] You: cue
[12:01AM] You: cute**********
Satan is never awake at this time so you don’t expect to receive a reply. Instead, you shove your phone back into your pocket and return to the conversation at hand, enjoying the company of your friends and the thrill of the weekend.
.
You shouldn’t have drank so much. The raging headache that greets you when you wake up the next day felt almost like an assassination attempt. It was supposed to be a nice, chill, relaxing Saturday morning for you to sleep in. Yet, the saliva pooling in your mouth tells you otherwise.
“Yuki…I’m going to kill you…” You garble into your pillow, forcing yourself to sit up while you fight back the urge to vomit. The conscious realisation that it must be afternoon dawns late on you when you notice the sun high up in the sky through the open curtains.
You rubbed your eyes with one hand as you reached out a hand to blindly feel around the bed for your phone. The brightness of your phone temporarily stole your vision as you let out a grunt, waiting for your eyes to adjust. 
[08:10AM] Satan: ?
[08:10AM] Satan: Are you drunk?
[08:11AM] Satan: Did you get back safely?
[08:40AM] You have one missed call from Satan
[08:45AM] Satan: I presume you must still be sleeping or hungover. Let me know if you’re safe once you see this message.
Mortified doesn’t even begin to describe the rollercoaster of emotions that you are feeling. Was it possible for you to move abroad to a place where nobody would find you? You searched up the cost of moving abroad to a distant village and were sorely disappointed by the sheer amount.
[03:01PM] You: hi
[03:03PM] You: i was drunk, im so sorry
[03:04PM] You: i didnt mean to send all that
[03:04PM] You: pls accept my apologies and if possible, erase this from ur memory pls
Satan comes online almost immediately.
Satan is typing…
[03:05PM] Satan: I’m glad to hear you’re safe.
[03:05PM] Satan: It’s nice to know that you think I’m cute though :)
You drop your phone.
[03:05PM] Satan: Have you eaten or drank any water? Hydration is very important after a whole night of drinking.
You scramble to grab your phone, looking back at the message again. The dull thudding in your head becomes distant as you stare at the text.
[03:10PM] You: ah yes, thank u for reminding me to drink water haha
Your fingers are still trembling as the next message comes in with a ding.
[03:12PM] Satan: Do you have time tomorrow? I discovered this new cafe known for their bubble tea and sandwiches. Are you free to accompany me?
[03:12PM] Satan: Location sent
You screenshot the message with bated breath and send it to Yuki.
[03:13PM] yuki <3333: GIRL WTF
[03:13PM] yuki <3333: IS HE ASKING U ON A DATE
[03:13PM] You: thats what i wanted to ask u…
[03:14PM] yuki <3333: I THINK SO?? JUST ACCEPT AND GO
You swiped back on the chat with Satan, unsure fingers hovering over the keyboard.
If it was a date, you honestly weren’t sure if you were ready for it. The heartbreak from your previous relationship was still fresh. It’s only been about a week since you got dumped.
[03:20PM] You: maybe not tomorrow :<
[03:21PM] You: i already have plans w my friends :’)
[03:21PM] You: maybe another time?
You shoved your phone in the pile of blankets watching as the screen lit up, probably from a reply from Satan. The dull thudding in your head had come back in full force as you gazed up at the ceiling.
══════════════════
| PART ONE | PART TWO | MASTERLIST
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hmshermitcraft · 3 days
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He’s going to kill Scott, Martyn decided immediately after Scott finished talking. A breakup publicity stunt? Is he mad?
Sure tickets had been selling less lately, but it was only a small lull, they’d be back and selling out shows within a month. This was typical for a band, so why did Scott think that staging a breakup between him and Cleo was a good idea?!
It’d give Cleo a chance to release those divorce songs about Etho at least, but other than that surely this will only end in BAD publicity? Fans would take sides, it would totally blow up, and when they publicly got back together people would still be mad about it!
But Martyn was outnumbered, Pearl nodding enthusiastically at the idea and Cleo agreeing after a moments consideration, so he reluctantly gives in.
He was wrong though, for once (“for the 100th time” according to Cleo) and to his surprise it only made fans ship them more??? Something about toxic yaoi?? He didn’t really know what the fuck they were on about, but he’ll take it. He’s just glad after a couple months he’s allowed to kiss Cleo in public again, and that stadiums are full again.
(Not my best work but I thought publicity stunt breakup and the gears started turning)
Martyn still didn't like the situation. He makes sure he's firm that he is not doing that again. He'll do a lot of things for this band, but they don't get to fuck with his personal life like that anymore. His relationship with Cleo (and his friendship with his bandmates) is more important than publicity.
At least those break up songs were damn good. Shame he has to pretend forever they were about him, isn't it, Scott.
Another thing about Martyn, he does not let a debt go unpaid. Scott is going to suffer, it's only fair. And Cleo can certainly drink to that.
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aziraphales-library · 18 hours
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Hi!!! Do you have any fics where aziraphale is famous and crowley's just a "nobody"? preferably without explicit scenes, please :)) thank you so so much <3<3
Hello! We have a #famous aziraphale tag. Here are some fics in which Aziraphale is famous and Crowley is not. I could only find a couple of non-explicit fics, I'm afraid, but I'm pretty sure the smut is minimal/skippable in most of these...
First Thing In The Morning by FeralTuxedo (E)
Aziraphale Fell, erstwhile nerd, now successful fantasy author, is signing books at this year’s Heaven and Earth convention when he spots a red-headed man in the crowd. Someone he hasn’t quite been able to forget since his school days. And as luck would have it, Anthony Crowley, former troublemaker, now responsible adult, seems keen to reconnect.
Pride Month and Prejudice by TawnyOwl95 (E)
They say that you should never meet your celebrity crush. Especially when you know what an absolute bastard he is. So, of course, Anthony J. Crowley's participation in a queer adaptation of Pride and Prejudice for Pride Month has nothing to do with the involvement of A-lister A.Z. Fell. Crowley is only doing it so he has some gossip for his column. He didn't mean to get cast as Lizzy Bennet, he certainly didn't mean to be acting opposite Fell's Mr Darcy. And to make matters worse, Fell keeps staring at him...
Veni Vino Vegas (I Came, I Got Drunk, I Got Married) by A_N_D (T)
After a whirlwind drunken evening, author Az Fell came home from Rom-Con without his heirloom pinkie ring – but with a wedding license from a 24-hour Las Vegas chapel. Elsewhere, book fan Tony Crowley woke up with a hangover, vague memories, and a brand new ring he’s only seen in author photos. Mutually attracted, mutually terrified the other one thinks it was all a regrettable mistake, they turn to their dear but anonymous online friend to vent and ask for advice. …Maybe they should tell each other their screennames someday.
and now all of my garden is grown in lavender by ilikeblue (E)
Popular queer romance author, A.Z. Fell, has been lying about having a husband and a happy marriage for years. Longing to escape a string of failed relationships and looking for a fresh start, Aziraphale moves into the cottage left to him by his Great Aunt Agnes. When a TV adaptation of one of his books leads to sudden popularity and throws him into the limelight, his fans (and the press) are eager to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale's own mysterious leading man. Unfortunately, he still has to cast someone for that role. Enter the handsome gardener… Under Crowley's meticulous care the cottage's neglected garden slowly comes back to life, and Aziraphale finds himself writing the most important love story he'll ever write: his own
Once upon a time by elf_on_the_shelf (E)
‘Hello, my dear.’ Crowley bit his lip for a couple of seconds before he took a deep breath and just went with it. ‘Would you like to go for a coffee sometime?’ There was silence at the other end. Oh shit. ‘That was my friend messing around with my phone…?’ ‘You do realise that only works over text.’ ‘Myeah.’ Why was he like this? He had wanted to kill Bea for doing the same thing and yet here he was, doing the thing. At Bea��s behest, mind you. ‘I would love to go for coffee. Oh, and cake!’ Aziraphale is a very rich and successful writer. Crowley is at the worst possible moment of his life - living off Bee's couch and posting his mum's fairy tales on some random sites only to be ignored by everyone except one random person simply called A. This is a story about how both of our main protagonists get over the ghosts of their pasts, learn to work together and maybe - just maybe - fall in love in the process. Not to mention that all of the characters that we love (hate - looking at you, Gabe) make an appearance.
The Infernal Bodyguard by Santillatron (M)
Alistair Zira Fell is a popular author. Loved by everyone he meets. Well, almost everyone. Someone is trying to hurt him, and right now, he needs a bodyguard. Anthony J. Crowley is the best, although he doesn't work with celebrities. He has three rules. He never gets too close, never stays once the job is done, and Never Gets Involved. But this isn't a thriller. This, is a love story.
- Mod D
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