#(but i would still like to do anything else)

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid dilf agenda #margot's requests

[spencereid-reads]

the whole world | s. reid

wc: 3.4k words // warnings: english isn't my first language! soooo much fluuuuuffinessss, swear words maybe? NOT proofread as you can see., a kid, spencer being cute, aaah idk what else, i think this sucks but it's mother's day today where i live and for some reason i couldn't stop thinking about dad!spence so this was born. (ha, that was unintentional)

dad!spence x mom!fem!reader

you’re not really sure what wakes you up.

if it’s the change of temperature in the bed, a sign that spencer had recently gotten up and started his day. or if it’s the small, soft footsteps running around the house.

you know it’s taking everything in your little hazel not to spoil the mother’s day surprise she’s been working on at school. one of the many features she and her father share is their fascination to talk and talk about anything and everything, and more often than not, you are the person they tell everything to. so your daughter had been in a bit of a predicament since you first picked her up from school on a monday afternoon.

“had fun today, haze?” you asked, buckling her into her seat in the back of your car.

“yeah,” she nodded, kicking her legs in the air.

“what did you do?” it was the same routine every day, and she was ready to begin telling you all about the new special project they started working on when suddenly she heard her teacher’s voice in her head.

‘it’s a surprise for mommy! you all have to try and keep it a secret!’

“can’t say.”

“what?” you asked, leaning back a little, letting her bag drop below her feet.

“miss tate said we can only tell daddy! mommy can’t know until it's mommy day.” she explained.

“ohhh, you’re working on something for mother’s day, lovey?” you smiled as you caressed her cheek, cupping her face with your hand, she leaned into it instinctively.

“...maybe.” she grinned at you.

“okay, honey. you know you can tell me if you want to talk about it, okay? i know you must be so excited, and i promise you i’m not going to be mad, i’m going to love it no matter what it is, got it?” you pressed a few kisses all over her face, your heart melting at the sound of her giggles. “or you can tell daddy when he comes home, he’s good at keeping secrets, you know?”

“yeah! i tell daddy”

and every day leading up to mother’s day, she tried to skip the subject about what she did at school, and as much as you loved that panicked expression on her face, the way her hazel eyes widened and cheeks blushed you decided not to torture her anymore.

she’s so easy to read. just like her father.

her perfect, loving father. who told you to take a day all to yourself that friday leading up to mother’s day, it was also the day when the kids were sent home with the project, so it would also give spence and hazel the chance to hide it and perfect it.

while you enjoyed a day at a spa, filled with massages and pampering, your little loves were at the mall looking for a gift.

“what would you like to give her, haze?” spence asked, looking at his daughter through the rearview mirror. “what do you think mommy would like?”

“well, green is her favorite color. so, green?”

“something green, that sounds nice,” he nodded, his chest nearly trembling as he stole glances at his daughter. five years in and he still found it hard to believe he had a daughter. a child. a perfect, beautiful, smart and kind daughter. who looked so much like him and so much like you at the same time. “i heard her tell auntie em she needed a new handbag.” he suggested,

“we can buy her a green handbag!”

“i think that’s an excellent idea, hazey.” spencer smiled, holding the steering wheel with one hand, the other stretched out towards his child. “high-five,” he said, and felt her tiny hand smack against his, “good girl,” he smiled proudly.

since hazel was still in your womb, you knew she’d be a tall girl. i mean, look at her dad! but at five years old, whilst hazel is tall compared to children her age, she looks tiny when standing next to spencer. her head reached just below his waist, and her arm hurt whenever she walking alongside him because spencer pulled her little hand up to meet his, but she had to stretch so far up and it was just the sweetest sight in the world.

it’s late when you got home that night, thirty minutes past hazel’s bedtime, yet the moment you stepped in you heard the sounds of her favorite cartoon coming from the tv.

blossom instructs her two sisters in a plan to defeat that day’s monster, and you expected to find your own little powerpuff girl running around the living room, but other than the tv, the rest of the house was silent. you kicked off your shoes, walking to the coffee table to turn the tv off when you saw them.

spencer with his back on the couch, somehow his legs bent but still managed to stay upright, and your daughter resting against his chest, his arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

and you took a second or two to soak in the view. spencer’s head was to the side, and hazel was pressed so far into his neck that it’s hard to point out where his curls end and hers begin.

you walked to them, your hand reaching to play with hazel’s hair as you leaned to press a kiss to spencer’s forehead. it’s scary how quickly they capture your undivided attention, just the sight of either of them was enough to make you drop whatever it was you were doing.

“hey,” spencer’s voice was groggy, sleep evident in it and in the way he struggled to peel his eyes open, like his eyelids were begging to stay shut.

“it’s okay, go back to sleep. i’ll take her,” you said, but felt a light tug on your wrist.

“c’mere,” he mumbled, scooting to the back of the couch and making space for you. you gave in, squeezing your way in and adjusting hazel on top of you so you don’t choke with her hair against your mouth. “had fun?” you felt spencer’s hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, sneaking under your shirt.

“yeah. thank you, needed it,” you don’t know if it’s the busy day you had, or just the sight of your two loves sleeping that made you feel tired, too. you covered a yawn with the back of your hand. “you?”

“mhm,” he hummed in agreement, “hazey couldn’t decide on one thing. said you’d loved so many things. got you everything.”

“spence-” you scolded lightly.

“i know. but you should’ve seen her. too cute. too much like you.”

“like you, you mean.”

“hmm,” he opened one eye, pulling you closer, being careful with your girl on top of you. “like us. she’s got the best of us.”

and she does.

she’s funny and smart like spencer, kind and caring like you.

you don’t know where the sassiness came from, though.

(kidding, it’s all spencer, he wouldn't admit it)

“daddy, can i put a candle?” hazel asks, she’s done with placing the grapes into a bowl and looking for something else to add to your ‘mother’s day pavaganza’, a phrase she’d picked up from hearing auntie penny ask about your spa day, and had repeated to her spencer, who didn't have the heart to correct her when she sounded so adorable.

“i just know those little geniuses have a big mother’s day extravaganza planned for you,” she’d said, just as hazel entered the kitchen.

“on the pancakes?” spencer asks, she nods. “sure,”

the drawer slams a little louder than she’d intended, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes widen in shock.

“sorry, daddy!” she runs to him, one hand on the stool she’s currently trying to climb, the other fisting spencer’s pajama pants. “here,” she hands him the pink birthday candle you’d used for her birthday cake.

“thank you, hazey,”

you chuckle as you listen to them, you can’t hear all of it, but you can tell she’s getting louder the more excited she gets. it’s only a matter of minutes before the chaos that had been in the kitchen joins you in your bedroom. you pretend to sleep, curling into spencer’s side of the bed, and closing your eyes.

“she’s asleep! daddy, can i wake her?” you hear her laughing when you fake snore.

“go ahead, haze, gentle,” he reminded her, even though he knew you were awake.

“mommy,” you hear her running to the other side of the bed, “mama,” she climbs in next to you, lying next to you, you feel her breath on your face. then she presses wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek, and you swoon.

“hmm, who's giving me such sweet kisses?” you ask, being met with a grinning hazel as you open your eyes.

“it's mommy day!” she exclaims, arms looping around your neck with a strength you hadn't expected, “love you mommy,”

“i love you too, my angel, so, so, so much,” you wrap your arms around your little girl and hug her tight, setting your back against the mattress. you kiss all over her face and head, her little hands sticky and stained in maple syrup and jam.

“made you mommy day food,” she laughed as you tickled her sides. “daddy!”

spencer has taken residence by the end of the bed, the tray filled with breakfast set carefully on his lap.

“happy mother's day, honey,” he whispered against your lips, once the tray has been set in front of hazel, who can't help but pick a few slices of fruit to help herself.

“thank you, love you,” you kissed him once more, running a hand through his hair as you turn to look at your girl. “is it yummy?” you ask her as she pops a grape in her mouth, she nods, “i bet it's cause you and your daddy made it.”

it's a few hours later, after you're all showered and dressed, that you go downstairs and find the living room all decorated, with balloons and strings and three pieces of paper stuck to the wall that read ‘happy’, ‘mommy’, ‘day’ in spencer’s handwriting, but drawings made by hazel surrounding the words.

“mommy close your eyes,” you're sitting on the couch, all the gifts that hazel couldn't choose from are now open and on the coffee table. turns out the other gifts had just been little trinkets, a headband, a small bracelet, a keychain. “it's time for the surprise!”

“what surprise? i didn't know there would be a surprise!” your heart melted at her laughter.

“daddy cover her eyes,” she orders, and spencer makes his way around the sofa, standing behind you, he leans down, tilting your head back and pressing his lips on your temple.

“i’ve got it, hazey,” he nearly purrs against your skin, and as spencer continues his soft attack on your face, you hear hazel running through the house, “we hid it in my office,” he pulls back a little, staring at you with so much love.

“thank you for today,” you whisper, your cheeks were now hurting from the permanent smile that had been on your face the entire day.

“it's nothing, you deserve the world, honey.” and he means it. when he was young he'd pushed the idea of love to the side, with his job and his lack of social skills it was hard to picture a future with a family, but here he was. thanks to you. “i love you so much, you've got no idea,” he leaned down again, this time kissing your lips, accomplishing two things at once.

kissing you, and getting you to close your eyes.

“ready mommy?” you'd been so wrapped up in your husband that you missed your daughter walking back to you.

you looked down to see a scrapbook (just a few colored paper sheets binded by ribbon), a picture of you and hazel on the cover, in the middle.

“angel, this is beautiful,” you coo through teary eyes, embracing her fully before you even looked at the rest of the book.

the three of you settled on the sofa, with hazel between you two as she explained why she picked the pictures, something she'd done with spencer’s help. the pages were decorated with crayon drawings, glitter hearts, and stickers.

the last picture brought even more tears to your eyes, you were sitting in a hospital bed, with spencer by your side, his hand wrapped around your back, the both of you staring down at the new little baby that had just been born.

hazel’s first ever picture.

“look at this, hazey, you were so tiny,” you swallowed a lump in your throat, “and look at you now, you're so big, my sweet girl.”

“daddy said this is the day you became a mommy,"

“technically i was a mommy when you were in my belly,” you patted your stomach, “but my entire life was changed the minute you were born, i loved you before i even knew you, and i didn't know i could feel that much love for someone so little. hazey-” you said, shuffling her around so she was sitting on your lap, spencer pressed your back against his chest. you looked back at him, kissing his cheek.

“your daddy and i love you so much. it's an honor being your parents. every day i thank the stars that you're our little baby, that we get to raise you and see you grow. thank you for making me your mommy,”

“love you, mommy,” she nestled against your neck, “love you, daddy,” she reached up, puckered lips against spencer's other cheek.

“love you, hazey, you're my wish come true,” spencer placed a kiss on the top of her head.

that night, as you get ready for bed, feeling tired from all the emotions of the day, you snuggle against spencer's side.

“thank you for today. for helping haze,”

“of course, sweet, i told you, you deserve the world,” his lips meet yours in a gentle, slow kiss.

“i already have my whole world with me,” you tell him, voice full of sleep and love. “thank you for giving me my world.”

and if spencer had a time travel machine he would tell his younger self to not lose hope. the best years of his life were yet to come, his world wouldn't end when members of his chosen family left the team, his whole world and family were on the way.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds oneshot #spencer reid fluff #x reader #criminal minds imagine

[miley1442111]

before his choice- a.donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

this is like the prelude to the other stuff but i get that it's confusing that it's coming out later- i didn't think i'd turn this into a series so i didn't exactly have a plan, sorry :)

this is 18+, mdni plssss

summary: how it was before art ruined your relationship

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: smuttttt, 18+, piv using protection (don't be silly, wrap it), oral (f receiving), cute couple moments

(i think that's it but pls tell me if i forgot anything:)

PART 2: choices and chances PART 3: choices and meetings

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“There goes Stanford’s favourite couple!” Megan rolled her eyes playfully. Art had his arms draped around your shoulders as you walked around campus as the sun set. Art chuckled and flipped her off, smirking as you laughed. Megan had been your roommate in your first year and you’d been best friends ever since.

You and Art were Stanford’s favourite couple. You were tennis prodigies, both extremely talented and both of you were friends with basically everyone. Everyone was always rooting for the two of you, apparently there was a fan page dedicated to your relationship. 

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“How was practice with Tash?” He asked, his arms circling your waist as you leant against the wall, waiting in line in the canteen. 

“Fine, she’s getting better,” You shrugged. Tashi had never been able to beat you, but she was getting better.

“She’s not going to beat you,” He smirked, pressing kisses against your cheeks.

“She’s really good!” You giggled, feeling his hands squeeze your waist harder. “I wouldn’t mind, maybe then she wouldn’t hate me.”

“Tashi doesn’t hate you,” he shook his head. He knew it was a semi-lie, Tashi didn't like loosing. You were the only person capable of making her loose.

“She doesn’t like me Art, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” you sighed. “Anyway, enough tennis, what are we doing tonight?”

Art smirked. “We have that party-”

You groaned. Art always wanted to go out, then leave early. In your opinion, why not just cut out the middleman and go straight to your dorm? “Art, what is the point?”

“You look hot in dresses,” He shrugged and chuckled as you playfully hit him on the arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We can dance and hang out with our friends.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he’s pretending it’s a choice. “It’s not like I have a choice, I picked date night last time.” 

“Exactly, so we’re going,” he grinned and you cupped his cheek, kissing him heavily. He was so beautiful, what else were you supposed to do? You pulled away quickly and moved up in the line, beginning to order both your lunches. You drove Art insane sometimes. Your pretty tennis skirts, your sweet lips on his, you. 

He did recognise that his brain was still stuck in the gutter like a teenage boy when it came to sex. He didn’t seem to mind much though. 

He placed his hand on your ass as you ordered for the both of you and he saw how you gulped.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s head was in the gutter. 

You collected your food and sat at a table together, enjoying the canteen food.

“You’ll wear the red dress, right?” He asked. It was his favourite colour, and the colour of the college that the two of you would be representing. 

“No, Nike sent over something for me to wear, I think it’s purple,” you shrugged. Your partnership with Nike meant at every event you went to, you were representing them. That meant they were often sending you new things. 

“Purple?” He questioned.

“Yeah, like plum-y purple,” you shrugged. 

“Can’t wait,” he winked at you and you kicked him under the table. 

Tonight was going to be a long night. 

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You finished styling your hair as Art walked into your dorm, baby blue shirt and some black formal trousers on, his blonde curls looking particularly beautiful. The dress Nike had sent over was beautiful, Art’s jaw dropped when he saw you. 

You were gorgeous. 

“Hey baby,” You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his stunned cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He stated. You chuckled at him as his hands gripped your waist, making you look at him. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

“You look handsome,” You smiled, smoothing out his collar. “Ready to go?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” he decided, lust-filled eyes staring into yours before he pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

You kissed back immediately, your hands running through his curls. You probably had a ‘thing’ for his hair. His hands smoothed up the expanse of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. This is what he was, passionate, loving, and a little bit possessive. He radiated heat, his chest against your as he pushed you against the wall, his lips never leaving yours. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips as your hands dipped lower, going directly for his trousers zipper. 

“So are you,” you smiled, kissing him again. His hands found the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor at your feet. You unzipped him then started working on his shirt buttons, both of you forgetting about the party. 

His hands quickly pulled at your bra and underwear, leaving you bare as he stripped himself, thanking his past self for keeping a stock of condoms in your bedside table. He leaned over, quickly grabbing one and opening it with his teeth, sheathing his hard cock as you looked at him under you. He met your glazed eyes, lustfully looking at him, a soft smile on your face. 

You were so beautiful. 

You sank down on him, never quite used to the stretch he provided. “Fuck,” you moaned out. 

His eyes rolled back as you buried him inside of you. His hands gripped your waist, the faint remnants of bruises left from earlier in the week, when he was in this exact position. He pulled your face down to his as you started moving and started kissing up and down your neck between moans. He changed the position slightly, thrusting up into you to reach the gummy spot inside of you that made you scream out for him.

“God,” he groaned. “Fuck… f-fuck.”

You felt so good around him, it was one of his favourite feelings, the absolute euphoria of having your wrapped around him, using him to get yourself off.  

“You’re so good,” you whined breathlessly. “So good.”

Your voice and moans spurred him on, he loved your voice. He loved everything about you. 

“You gonna cum?” He whined, thrusting up into you. You nodded, bouncing on him harder as you began reaching your climax. He felt you tighten around him and he gasped, trying to not cum so quickly. 

“I’m c-cumming,” You groaned in his ear and he was a goner. He cupped your cheek, hap-harzardly kissing you to swallow the scream that was bound to leave his lips. You gripped his hips to still his uncoordinated and subscious thrusts as you both came down from your highs. 

Art still wasn’t done, he needed to taste you. “Let me taste it, please?” He begged, pulling himself out of you. “Please?”

“Art, we’re already late,” you reminded him through your sex-fueled haze. 

“Please, just let me kiss it,” he begged, kissing down your body, his fingers finding your sopping core. You moaned at the contact and nodded, a meek ‘please’ leaving your lips. 

That was all the confirmation Art needed. He latched his lips onto your clit, drawing out moan after moan. His fingers pumped in and out of you slowly, paying special attention to your g-spot. His tongue sucked over your over-sensitive clit and brought you to another two orgasms, not being able to stop himself from humping the bed in his enchanted state. He loved how you tasted, he couldn’t get enough of it, he never wanted to. If he could spend his days between your legs he would. 

After you came for the third time that night, he connected your lips again and smiled at you. “Thank you.”

Your fucked-out face was truly a sight to behold, and he had the pleasure of seeing it whenever he pleased. 

“Come on, we have a party to go to,” He smirked and you whined as he cleaned you up by running three fingers through your soaking core and licking them clean. 

He appreciated the new marks on your neck that he had created as you slowly got up. You dressed yourself in the beautiful dress once again, fixing your hair and makeup, then spraying yourself with some more perfume, attempting to cover the smell of sex. 

As you sat in the passenger seat of his car, he thought about how perfect you were, his hand in yours as he drove you to the party. 

Little did he know that this party would lead to the beginning of the end of your relationship.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

#art challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #challengers #mike faist x reader #mike faist #josh oconnor #patrick zweig

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five, five being the most recent part. read part five here

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[kentopedia]

˚₊‧꒰ა skin — chuuya nakahara

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. chuuya's acting different… but you brush it off and don't think anything of it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, suggestive but sfw, f!reader, domestic life, established relationship, implied dubcon, open ending, horror/mystery elements, wc: 2.5k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm a bit nervous to see how this will be received, so pls reblog or drop a comment if you enjoy <3

part of my summerween series !

the scent of freshly brewed coffee and your favorite breakfast food are the first things that you smell when you wake up. for a few moments, you think it’s a dream — when’s the last time chuuya cooked this early in the morning? you half expect to walk out there and wake up again later, finding that you’d never opened your eyes at all.

but when you roll out of bed, tug a robe over your shoulders, chuuya is there, a presence larger than life, almost, standing in front of the stove, and you are undeniably awake.

you wrinkle your eyebrows together, glancing at the plates scattered across the counter. in your two years of marriage, this is the first that you’ve seen such a display. chuuya isn’t a morning person, he never has been, and usually something quick is enough to settle his stomach for a while.

“chuuya?” you asked, sitting at the table, his back still turned to you. he’s fully dressed, hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders, burning brighter from the sun filtering in through the window. “what are you doing?” 

your husband turns, smiling at you over his shoulder. as always, it takes your breath away. he is so handsome, sometimes, it makes you forget yourself. “can’t i cook for my beautiful wife?” he asks, sliding a cup of coffee to you on the tabletop. 

you smile, as his hands graze your temple, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you never cook breakfast. you don’t like it.”  besides, this is far too much for two people to enjoy.

he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then the small, confused wrinkle between your eyes. it slips away as you sit up straighter, capture his lips with your own, tasting the coffee on his mouth.

“but you do,” chuuya says.

you’re honestly indifferent towards breakfast, but you let it slide, tucking your chin into your hand as you watch him work away. if he wants to do something nice, you’re not going to stop him. “weren’t you supposed to leave for a job this morning?” 

chuuya shrugs, “i’m reassigned, i guess the boss wanted to send akutagawa instead. i’ll be staying in the city for this one, so you won’t get the chance to miss me.” 

it makes sense now, why he had so generously made you breakfast. you stand, taking a longer sip of your coffee, before going to wrap your arms around his stomach, smell the hot food that wafts from behind him. “oh, so you had some time to kill?” you tease, running your hands across his abdomen. “and you decided to cook instead of doing… something else?” 

your fingers trace a pattern around the zipper of his jeans, which are steadily growing tighter. chuuya grabs your wrist, tugs your hands away with a pointed look. “yes,” he says, through his teeth. “and you’re making it difficult.” 

you lazily grin back, pressing one last kiss to his jawline before grabbing your coffee again, and standing beside him at the counter. 

chuuya cooks with a precision that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before, delicately measuring each ingredient, tapping them into the bowls and pans. usually, he goes by his own instincts, and while he is by no means a great cook, he pulls things together in a way that only he could do. now, though, he seems almost uncertain, like he’s silently praying that everything will turn out alright.

“chuuya?” you ask, watching him carefully. his face contorts strangely as he looks over at you, but then it clears up, and he smiles, looking just as warm as he did the moment you walked into the room. 

“yeah, baby?” 

you want to ask him if he’s feeling alright—but that would shatter the mood, wouldn’t it? the serene morning bliss that has settled between you, as it so rarely seems to anymore. and it’s a blessing, not to have to watch him walk out that door and put himself in danger, able to spend more time with you. 

shaking your head, you smile, and kiss him on the cheek softly. “never mind. i love you.” 

“love you too.” he says it back immediately, which is also a little unlike your husband. there is always a pause before, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to maintain this sort of affection, like it’ll be taken away if he dares to speak the truth. he cherishes the love he has for you in that tiny pause, before relinquishing it, shoulders only relaxing when he sees you standing there, safe and sound. 

but it’s been years since you’ve been together. you’re married, settled down — as settled as he can be as a mafia executive. perhaps he’s just relaxed into the fact that your love is eternal, and he's more confident in the notion that it won’t be taken away from him. 

the rest of the morning passes quickly, when you and chuuya find yourselves back into bed, mouths still tasting of coffee, the windows open just enough to clear out the smell of sweat between you, and the pans that have not fully been scrubbed. 

at some point, you feel asleep, and you wake back up, overheated from the sheets tucked closely to your naked body. the sunlight filtering in through the glass is worse than metal of a furnace. your hair sticks to your scalp, and you spend the next half hour in the shower, dreading the looming months of summer and the heat that comes with it.

although there’s plenty of things for you to do while chuuya’s gone, you don’t feel like doing much of anything. just one of those days, you reason, even if it’s hard to rationalize that, when chuuya’s out there risking his life, and you’re inside, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and the picking up books you can’t bring yourself to read.

it’s a blur of a day, between very slowly making your way through the pile of laundry you’d forgotten to fold, and cleaning the sheets that had been washed just a few days earlier. chuuya returns, and suddenly, your foul mood caves into something much more pleasant, that pit in your stomach dissipating. 

you still worry about him, constantly, even though you know he’s chuuya nakahara, and there are very few things on this earth that can challenge him. still, he’s your husband—you can’t help it.

chuuya kisses you as he returns, smiling into it, his fingers curling into the hair behind your ears. 

“i can make dinner tonight,” you say, even though you don’t really feel like it. but he sees right through it, just like you knew he would. you can’t hide much from him. 

“it’s okay. i’ll pick something up. know you haven’t been feeling up to it this week.” 

you smile and kiss the palm of his hand, the leather of his glove cool against your mouth. how nice it is to be so loved by him, to be seen, for even the simplest of signs. “okay. thanks.” 

he nods, leaves to retreat into the bedroom and change his dirtied shirt into a clean one. it’s then, that you notice he’s laid his coat across the back of one of your chairs — unusual, for him to wear it so far into the house. 

you furrow your brow and pick it up, planning on hanging it on the rack by the door. but you notice, then, that it’s an older one, different from the coat he normally wears. the designer is the same, but there’s a hole in the pocket, which tells you he didn’t care enough to have it fixed. 

an odd feeling twists itself inside you again. a bout of paranoia, likely. that’s all, isn’t it? you’re just having an off day, an off week, and you’re projecting that onto your husband, for no reason at all. 

a sigh escapes you, and you shake your head, simply hanging it back up on the coat rack, when you notice his hat isn’t there either. 

you frown, glancing back over your shoulder to the chair, the rest of the room. chuuya hadn’t been wearing it when he’d walked in, and you can’t remember seeing it on the rack before he left this morning. 

which was odd. chuuya never went anywhere without it.

you jump, a vibration pulling you out of your thoughts, your cell phone ringing, buzzing on the table right by the doorway. it’s chuuya’s name flashing across the screen, a photo of him bright under the glass.

“hello?”

“hey, baby.” 

you release a breath at the sound of chuuya’s voice. it instantly relaxes you, even though you, really, have no reason to be so alarmed.

your shoulders sink down, the tension draining from your body, and you smile instead, amused that he’s calling you from just one room over. the affectionate name twists your stomach up in butterflies and knots, and you roll your eyes. “hi, chuuya.” 

“you have time to talk right now?” 

“i suppose.” 

“you suppose,” chuuya replies, snorting. “and here i thought you’d be happier to hear from me. i was about to apologize for not calling you earlier and everything.” 

that’s a weird thing to say, you think. “chuuya, you know, you didn’t need to call. you could’ve just walked back in here.” 

there’s a pause on the other end, a muffled sound in the background, like he’s getting out of a car. “what do you mean?” 

“i mean you could’ve just walked back in here.”

he doesn’t seem to understand, and fakes a laugh. “very funny.” there’s a voice on the other end, and chuuya says something to the sound, before turning his attention back to you on the phone. your brow furrows, eyes drifting over to the door. “anyway, i only have a few minutes, but—”

 “chuuya,” you say, feeling a tiny rush of fear swallow you. something is wrong. there’s no one in your house besides you and chuuya, and he’s been in your bedroom for minutes. you turn back around, facing the front door. "where are you?” 

“huh? i’m in osaka, remember? i told you about the entire thing last night.” he sighs, something between irritation and amused fondness.  “we had a pretty long conversation about it.” 

“osaka?” you repeat. “but—i just saw you. just a few minutes ago. just this morning”

there’s silence on the other end of the line, as chuuya breathes, gathers his thoughts. you can tell, even within a second, that he’s either trying not to panic, or let his confusion give way to anger. “no, you didn’t. i left early this morning, you were still sleeping—”

“who are you talking to?” 

you freeze. it comes from chuuya, but the chuuya that’s behind you, not the one you’re talking to on the phone. there’s a pinched look on his face as you turn, pretending like nothing is wrong. a guarded expression that wasn’t there before. 

your mind goes blank as you stare at him, mouth growing dry. “i—”

“say dazai,” chuuya says through the static of the phone. you’re not sure how he heard the imposter at all, but it settles you, snapping you back into action.

“dazai?” you nearly spit.

it’s not often you chat with dazai, of all people, on the phone. you’re not particularly close. but it’s a good call by chuuya. dazai wouldn’t be keeping tabs on the port mafia member’s whereabouts, wouldn’t know that chuuya was out of town, and akutagawa was never reassigned. but he’s still dangerous. still someone that could be a threat to whoever is pretending to be your husband.

“dazai," you continue, recovering from your questioning response smoothly. "can i call you back later?”

chuuya speaks to you the other line, playing along. “i’m going to call someone to come over there. pretend like nothing’s wrong. everything will be okay.” 

you feel tears prick the back of your eyes — you don’t want chuuya to hang up, but if the fake chuuya finds out you know, it could be an even worse outcome. 

“okay. got it. i'll call you tomorrow then.” 

“i love you.”

you resist the urge to answer the sentiment, and hang up the phone. 

the fake chuuya stares back at you, as intently as you stare at him, neither of you blinking as you put your phone back into your pocket.

“what did dazai want?” he asks, standing straight, his back tense as you take a step forward. 

there are a lot of weapons hidden around this house—chuuya has more than a handful of enemies, and wants to be prepared in case they ever find where he lives. where you live. 

you’d thought it overkill. now, you’re grateful to have at least a fighting chance; if you can only get to the pistol that he keeps in the closet, at the end of the hallway. 

“he’s working on a case. thought i might have some intel. i told him i’d look over the details tomorrow.” 

“i see.” chuuya — not chuuya, you remind yourself, even though he’s wearing his face — nods. he watches you walk closer the closet door, eyes darting between the handle and your body. his eyes flash. 

“you know,” he says, crisply, stopping you in your tracks. “i thought the phone might cause some issues. should’ve blocked the number this morning. amateur mistake on my part.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean your husband called, didn’t he? the real one.” not chuuya smiles, but it’s ugly, almost as if it’s contorting, melting off his face. “you know he’s been gone all morning. it wasn’t him who made you breakfast, took you to bed after.” 

nausea fills your gut, and you look away, swallowing down the disgust that you feel. you can’t think about that. not now. 

“although, you wouldn’t have known by the way i touched you, would you? how i knew exactly what you enjoy. i have every one of chuuya’s memories now. i know all about him, all about you.” he takes a long stride. you’re both just a pace away from the door, from the gun. if he has any of chuuya’s strength, you’ll lose—you’re no match for that kind of power. 

you just need to hold him off, long enough for whoever chuuya sends over to help you. 

“and also,” the fake chuuya continues lazily, a laugh clipping at the end of his words. “i know about the gun you’re looking for.”

there’s a dark grin on his face that propels you into action. you lunge towards the closet door, throwing it open, and chuuya lets you. he laughs darkly, doesn’t make any attempt to stop you from fumbling around the inside of closet for a gun that he put there. it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

the gun isn’t there.

thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ title and inspiration come from ep 1.06 of supernatural- tag list: @little-miss-chaoss @erebus-et-eigengrau @soleelia @k0z3me

#chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #bsd x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #chuuya fluff #chuuya x gn reader #chuuya nakahara x gn!reader #chuuya nakahara x fem!reader #chuuya x y/n #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic

[princejiu]

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.

The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.

She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.

Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.

So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.

After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."

Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."

"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."

Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.

You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."

You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.

Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.

"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."

You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.

"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."

Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.

A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.

Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.

"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."

Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."

For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"

Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.

You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.

You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."

Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"

Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."

Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.

"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.

Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."

A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.

Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.

"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"

Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.

"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"

That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.

"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."

The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing.  She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."

"She's not going."

The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.

Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.

"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.

Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.

However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."

"Are you sure?"

Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.

She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.

"Hi."

Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.

"Are you here alone?"

Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.

"Who are you here with?"

She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."

"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"

Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.

But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."

Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.

There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.

She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.

Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.

She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.

She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.

"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."

Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."

"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"

Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.

Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"

Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.

"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"

Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.

"You're okay. They're handling it."

Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.

She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."

Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.

Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.

"Less, are you scared of yn?"

It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.

Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.

How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.

She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."

You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.

Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.

The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.

"Fuck off!"

Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."

The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.

But you were real.

You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.

Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.

You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.

"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."

Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.

She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.

Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."

Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.

The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.

She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.

Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.

She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.

Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.

Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.

The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.

"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."

Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.

The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.

"You can ride front seat."

Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.

Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.

In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.

She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.

Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."

"Did you have fun?"

Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.

"Less, is everything okay?"

Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."

Two lies in one.

Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.

You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.

In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.

By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.

But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.

And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.

Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.

It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.

You figured she needed some alone time to get through.

You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.

Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.

Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.

The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.

Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.

Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.

Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.

It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.

It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.

Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.

The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.

Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.

You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.

You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.

Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.

It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.

The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.

Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.

You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.

You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.

You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.

"Can we go home please?"

Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.

For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.

And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?

Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.

A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.

In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.

In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.

Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.

The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.

Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.

"What's next week?"

"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."

Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."

Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.

"I'll ask her."

"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."

Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.

If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.

Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.

You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"

"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."

Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.

"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"

You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."

"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, mami!"

Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"

Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.

"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."

You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.

You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.

You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.

Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.

"Why? No one will notice us missing."

"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."

You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.

Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.

You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.

You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them. 

You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.

You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.

You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.

You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.

You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.

Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.

You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.

Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.

The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.

You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.

As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.

Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.

"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"

Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.

She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.

London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.

Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.

Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.

They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"

You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"

"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"

Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?

"Yeah, what's up?"

Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.

Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.

Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.

The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.

"Do you mind if we took a picture?"

Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"

"Yn!"

You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"

Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.

Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.

Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.

"Less?"

Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.

"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.

"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"

Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.

She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.

The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.

Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.

You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"

Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.

You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.

You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.

You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.

The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.

The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.

You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.

You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.

Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.

You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.

And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.

That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.

Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.

You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.

They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.

Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.

Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.

The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.

Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.

Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.

You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.

Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.

Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.

She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.

She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.

She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"

Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.

Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.

The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.

You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.

Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.

You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.

When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.

"I love you, you know that?"

Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."

Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine. 

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #thehound

[adriennebarnes]

Drive Thru Test

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N was scrolling through TikTok and saw a lot of girlfriends pretend to be a drive thru worker to see how their boyfriends would react in a certain situation. Y/N is going to test Charles the same way.

Warning: The usual, spelling and grammatical errors, very fluffy and funny

A/N: I saw a TikTok posted by desi.desamito and her fiance Austin gave Charles vibes, like i fully believe he would be so confused and stressed just doing the "test" because to Charles, she's still his girl so why would he not kiss her if she asks for a kiss?

Y/N was with Charles in the parking garage, she got out of his car but told him to stay inside. Charles rolled down his window.

“Mon ange, why do I have to stay inside?” Charles asked.

“Because I saw this TikTok trend and I really want to test it out, please.” Y/N said.

“What kind of trend is it?” Charles asked.

“How you would react at a drive thru.” Y/N said.

“A drive thru? Why would I go through a drive thru if I could just order pick up from a restaurant?” Charles asked.

“What if I’m pregnant and I am craving chicken nuggets or an ice cream or some fries? Are you going to deny me that pregnancy craving because you could just order from a fancy restaurant? I’m preparing you, Charlie.” Y/N said. “Especially because you won’t be able to cook my pregnancy cravings like that guy on TikTok.”

“First, if you want ice cream, you have mine to choose from, and second, my cooking is getting better.” Charles argued.

“I mean it is but it’s still not the best, muñeco. Now let’s start okay? Pretend I’m the drive thru person.” Y/N said walking away from the car.

“Don’t drive thrus have the machine with a speaker to take your order?” Charles asked.

“Just pretend, Charlie, por el Amor de Dios, ya para de hacer preguntas.” Y/N said. She gets closer to the car, poking her head through the open window and resting her hands on the window sill. “Hello, what can I get you?”

“Can i get a number 3…” Charles started.

“Why are you letting her be this close to you? This is ridiculous, we’re kissing distance.” Y/N said and Charles leaned in to kiss her but Y/N pulled back. “Dude, no!”

“But we’re not playing anymore.” Charles said

“I’m still the drive thru person. Let’s start again.” Y/N said. She walks away from the car and comes back, poking her head through the window, poking her arm out to rub Charles’s arm. “Hello, what can I get you?”

“Can i get a…” Charles didn’t even finish.

“You’re letting her touch your arm! You’re telling me that a random woman is touching your arm and you’re just letting her?” Y/N asked.

“But it’s you, baby!” Charles exclaimed. Y/N rolled her eyes, she made kissing noises and of course, Charles leaned in to kiss her, which was a mistake.

“Es neta? You’re telling me if a drive thru person asks you for a kiss like that you’re just going to kiss her?” Y/N asked.

“But it’s you!” Charles exclaimed. “I don’t wanna play anymore, I am so confused.”

“Muñeco, It’s not that hard, and we’re doing this until you get it right.” Y/N said.

“Fine, can i get a kiss?” Charles asked.

“If you get this right, I’ll kiss you as many times as you want.” Y/N said and Charles did his little fist pump in the air and whispered ‘yes’, making Y/N giggle. She walked away from the car and comes back, poking her head through the window and rested her arms on the window sill. “Hi, what can I get you?”

“Can you not lean against my car please?” Charles asked politely and Y/N did what he said. “Thank you, can i get a number 3 with a vanilla milkshake and large fries, please.” Charles ‘ordered’ politely.

“Sure, anything else?” Y/N asked.

“Um yes, can i get a number 1 with a chocolate milkshake and extra fries for my girlfriend.” Charles said but his eyes widened at his mistake as Y/N poke her head through the window. “I mean my fiancé, a number 1 for my fiancé, who is so beautiful by the way.”

“Ay muñeco, you were so close. Girlfriend? I’m your girlfriend now? Does this engagement ring mean nothing to you?” Y/N asked all dramatically.

“My love, the engagement is recent so sometime girlfriend slips out instead of fiancé.” Charles said.

“You’re getting one more shot, Leclerc.” Y/N said.

“I Don’t know why you’re saying my last name like that, it’s going to be yours soon.” Charles said. Y/N walked away from the car and came back, poking her head through the window and resting her arms on the window sill.

“Hello, what can I get you?” Y/N asked.

“Can you not lean on my car,” Y/N moved away from the car. “Thank you. Can I get a number 3 with a vanilla milkshake and a large fries for me and a number 1 with a chocolate milkshake and extra fries for my fiancé.” Charles ordered.

“Anything else?” Y/N asked.

“No, that’s it.” Charles said. Y/N leaned against the car again. “Can you move away from my car?”

“Nah, I’m good here.” Y/N said,

“I’m not though.” Charles said, Y/N touched his hair, messing with it. “Don’t touch me.” Charles grabbed her wrist and pushed her away gently.

“Congratulations Charles, you passed, good job.” Y/N said, she held her hand out for a high five but Charles did not accept it. “Good! That was a test, you passed.” She poked her head through the window. “Okay, it’s Y/N now, you did really well, I’m surprised.” Y/N said. Charles just looked at her. Y/N made kissing noises and before charge leaned in to kiss her…

“Are you Y/N?” Charles asked.

“Yes, muñeco.” Y/N said and they kissed. “Okay, now let’s go upstairs to put the groceries away, i think you deserve a pasta dish after that test.” Y/N said as Charles got out of the car to get the groceries from the trunk.

“Thank you, that was stressful.” Charles said,

“Yeah, i bet. But seriously, next time you call me your girlfriend, i won’t wear my ring out in public.” Y/N threatened.

“That seems fair, my gorgeous fiancé.” Charles said, kissing he one more time before they get into their shared apartment.

The End

Hope y’all liked it even if it was a little short!

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[gallusrostromegalus]

How does each of the main aeiwam cast react to spiders?

Ichigo: "...Why's my leg itchyyYEAUGH! DAMMIT!" *scoops spider up in piece of paper, opens window and throws it out* "OUTSIDE! SHOO! I hate it when they sneak up and on me...

Orihime: Had an intense close personal friendship with a Joro Spider that had made it's web on her apartment balcony when she was six. It's death at the end of summer was her first real experience with mortal loss, and she mourned it for weeks. She still recalls "Joro-San" fondly.

Uryuu: Secretly dreams of Spiders large enough to spin actual ropes of silk- the stuff is a marvel of chemical engineering, and would be incredibly useful to him as a Doctor or Fashion Designer. He feels like the difficulty of harvesting Spidersilk is the main thing holding back a Golden age of Humanity, and is disturbed to find out he shares ANY opinion with Mayuri Kurotsuichi.

Tatsuki: Paralyticly Phobic of spiders. Understands and appreciates their importance in the ecosystem, knows they can't hurt her and that the phobia is an irrational reflex, and even thinks some of them 'look cool as hell'. The second there's a live one in her presence, she locks up and can't move until someone removes it. (Usually Ichigo, because Orihime will just stare at it, fascinated).

Chad: Has a Pet Kitchen Spider. thought about shooing flies in it's direction, then felt bad for the flies.

Kon: Is a cat, hunts them, and will have nuanced discussions about how different spiders taste with Yuzu, the one person who will tolerate that analysis.

Keigo: Screams theatrically and jumps away and into someone's arms if they're there, but that's just how he reacts to anything that startles him.

Mizuiro: Fascinated by them, will stare at them with Orihime and tell her fun facts about Joro-Gumo Yokai and other lore, which delights her to no end.

Yoruichi: Like Kon, enjoys toying with them before eating them.

Urahara: Curled into the farthest corner, screaming, crying, throwing up, and begging Yoruichi to STOP FUCKING AROUND AND GET RID OF IT!

Rukia: *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling on top of her hair* "...what Spider?"

(Seireitei Squad Under The Cut)

Yamamoto: Utterly fails to notice or care. There are so many things he's seen that are so much worse, and honestly? Even when he was a young man he didn't give a shit. He slept rough delivering messages, waking up in the dirt with half a dozen bugs on him was normal.

Sasakibe: Thinks they're delightful. So many elegant designs! Such perfect sense of when to strike! Such patience! He finds out about Diving Spiders and goes Ape Shit. THEY MAKE THEIR ON SCUBA TANKS!!

Soi Fon: Spiders are cool but not as cool as wasps and hornets :)

Omaeda: Also has a Pet Kitchen Spider, but does not feel bad about shooing flies into it's web at all.

Gin: Isn't actually sure what spiders are, or if they're even real. He's seeing sixteen dimensions at once, something that minuscule gets lost in the noise. Still thinks that someone Screaming "SPIDER!" and everyone flailing around in fear or suddenly attacking the walls and furniture is a social game like "The Floor Is Lava"

Rose: Thinks they're cool right up until they're in his personal space and then they are VERY SCARY.

Izuru: Was the designated spider-wrangler for the third from the first day he transferred in, because everyone else is a huge bitch about them. he plays it cool, but he's actually creeped out by the really big ones.

Unohana: Spiders are garden Friends :) often heard verbally encouraging them to destroy her garden pests with calls of "GET HIS ASS!" coming from the Hydrangeas.

Isane: Everyone is sort of surprised how chill Isane is about dealing with spiders- even Yamada's Actually Dangerous Specimens- and she shrugs and tells them that she deals with more dangerous things every day, especially over in Pharmacology. It keeps the focus off the Bug she's actually terrified of: Butterflies.

Hanataro: Do Not Ask The Head Of Toxicology And 11th Division Pocket Medic About Spiders Unless You Are Prepared For A Seven-Hour Lecture With A Pop Quiz At The End.

Aizen: HUGE fan of Spiders. What splendid creatures- look at how carefully the spider selects the anchor points of it's web, the skillfulness with which it weaves. Such incredible patience, waiting for the lines of tension it's woven to snare it's game- though I suppose such patience is easier when the fly's capture is inevitable >:)

Shinji and Hiyori: *Screaming and flailing, hitting things at random (mostly each other) in a blind panic, because they share a braincell and that cell is TERRIFIED of spiders* "It's so fast!" "It was huge! It had to be a tarantula!" "We should burn the division down, just to be sure."

Momo: Escorted the little garden spider outside in a cup like ten minutes ago, and forgot about it because that's such a routine chore, and she was having a more important phone call at the time.

Byakuya: Rarely notices spiders, but sometimes one will scuttle across his desk and he'll stop to watch it for the seven minutes it takes to actually cross his desk with a neutral expression, before resuming whatever he was doing. It's a pleasant diversion for him, not unlike watching the koi fish swim around in the compound pond, and he resumes his duties feeling spiritually refreshed by that chance encounter with nature.

Renji: Not bothered by Spiders. VERY Bothered by his Boss's fucking peculiar-ass reaction to a spider wandering across his desk because to Renji, it looked like Byakuya had never actually seen a spider before and was staring at it with an expression that indicated his higher brain functions had ceased entirely. Is currently making plans to study "The Captain Kuchiki Spider Brain Glitch" by catching a bunch of spiders in a jar and releasing them into his office to see what happens.

Komamura: He's particularly fond of Jumping spiders, because they sing little songs while hunting that he can hear if it's really quiet. They're very cute. Gets very upset when people kill spiders or talk about killing them.

Iba: Not afraid of spiders but doesn't know what to do when they're in his way. Killed one in front of Komamura once when he was a little kid and Komamura was still his babysitter, Sajin gave him a huge and very upset lecture about respecting life in all it's forms... but did not actually teach Iba how to remove them. So every time he sees one he sorta stands there for a minute and hopes it will move, before yelling "BOSS!"

Shunsui: Does not want to admit how much Spiders freak him out. It's not fear, precisely- more of a disgust reaction. All bugs make his skin crawl and he understands how important they are, but can they do all that ecology stuff Far Away From Him, Please And Thank You?

Nanao: Like Unohana, reveres spiders as pest control. She takes it a step further, and actively collects Jumping Spider egg sacs as she finds them in the archives and tends to them over winter so when early spring comes, she can release several hundred thousand spiderlings into the archives to destroy the mites, bookworms, moth larvae and other archive pests before they can get a foothold. She usually does this while dumping out the entire terrarium and cackling manically.

Lisa: Immediately joins in on Nanao's Spider Propagation Project, much to Shunsui's horror.

Tousen: If there is a sudden shriek and burst of profanities and hexes in the ninth division, 90% chance it's because Kaname walked into a spider web again, his LEAST favorite texture in the Universe. Yes, including the curse nails. He'd keep them in his spine if it meant he'd never walk into another spiderweb.

Kensei: Often cracked open a beer while watching the evening news during his exile in the living world. Sometimes it was several beers, or something stronger if he'd had a rough day. One night, it was a bottle of Fireball as he watched the news, and felt too intoxicated to change the channel from the newshour, so he kept watching when PBS Nature came on, and damn near pissed himself laughing when he saw the Peacock Spider's Mating Dance. Full on Howling, tears streaming down his face, barely able to breathe, Pterodactyl-noises laughing. Nothing has been funnier before or since to him, so now whenever he sees a spider he starts guffawing and stop to explain WHY.

Shuuhei: Deeply confused by the fact spiders keep coming indoors. "Why are you all here?" he asks, doing a cobweb patrol with the broom before his boss gets back from the inter-division meeting. "What are you eating? Crumbs? Lint? Is it Lint you eat?"

Mashiro: Has a grasshopper-type Zanpakuto who is not a fan, so she attempts to destroy any spider she sees in solidarity. Usually misses and destroys something else.

Matsumoto: Spiders are cool, but not as cool as snakes :)

Hitsugaya: Grew up on a farm, and shares Momo's total non-reactivity to them. It's even deeper, because his constant ambient chill means spiders never climb on him if they can't help it.

Zaraki: Used to agitate Yumichika and Ikkaku by eating them. Now he agitates them by wandering off the trail during 11th Division Boot Camp or other deployments and coming back with extremely dangerous ones and handing them to Hanataro "fer yer collection". The 11th Division's Pocket Medic has explained toxicology at length to him, and now Zaraki thinks of various medicines as "Spider Pills" and "Scorpion Juice".

Yachiru: Still eats spiders. She's the sole exception to the Wrath of Komamura, because there is no malice or fear in her actions- it's perfectly natural and morally upstanding Carnivory. The rest of you are being irrational and jerks.

Ikkaku: Sometimes regrets his life choices when he sees the freak he's sworn loyalty to walk out of the trees with something venomous enough to kill half the gotei-13 with a single bite crawling over his face, then realizes that's FUCKING BADASS and is assured that he made the right choices.

Yumichika: *currently sneaking up behind Ikkaku with a fake spider on a string to affectionately terrorize him*

Mayuri: Unlike Uuryu, Mayuri isn't a Weenie, and he's making his dreams of Milkable Spiders the Size of Cattle a reality.

Nemu: Helping with that. This one is hers. She named it #47, after it's designation, Specimen Number 47.

Ukitake, *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling across his forehead* "...There's a spider in here?"

#Bleach #bleach fanfiction #AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Spiders #some people are more chill than others #and some are straight up failing perception checks

[starfxkr]

western nights II

pairing: older!trailer park!jj x reader

summary: jj maybank knows he's too old to be messing around with a young girl like you, but he does it anyways

warnings: age gap, smut, that's p much it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

sometimes it felt like jj was playing with his food, after the incident at the party he acted like you barely existed. giving you nothing but a quick glance, maybe a smirk and nothing more. so when your mom started coming up with more excuses to get jj to come over you could barely hide your excitement.

only it's nauseating watching her, the way your mom practically switched up overnight whenever jj came over. if he's fixing your pipes all of a sudden she's squeezing herself into one of your skirts just to stand over him while he's under the sink hoping he looks up.

he never does, instead he shoos her away, maybe asks her to pick up some beer knowing he'll at least get an hour of peace because she "stumbled upon" some dinner she knows he won't stay to eat but she can't help trying anyways in hopes this would be the time.

"you sure you don't want anything else jesse? you know i'll get whatever you like." she was doing her best attempt at a seductive voice, making you audibly scoff. pointedly she ignored you and continued, "i don't know why you don't stay for dinner, i always make something good."

lies. she hasn't cooked a meal for you a day in your life, you've been living off fast food and air since you were weaned off the tit.

still, jj shot her a half smile and said, "why not? i could use somethin to eat."

that's all she needed, quickly setting off to the car in order to agonize at the store over dinner she won't eat, leaving you alone with jj for the first time in weeks since the party.

if he felt tense he didn't show it, finally crawling from under the sink to pour himself a cup of water. you watched enraptured when he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his mouth.

"there was nothin wrong with the sink." the sound of his voice jolts you from your haze.

"what?"

he smirks amused, leaning forward on the counter so he was only inches away from your face, "wasn't a damn thing wrong with it. i been fuckin around for bout an hour."

you can't help the little giggle that pours out of you and his smile widens, the dimple in his cheek making him look boyishly charming. "fuckin figures, she always manages to come up with somethin to get you over here."

"is that so?" he's leaning in closer, and your heart's being so fast you aren't sure he can't hear.

"mhm...she's real sweet on you."

"just her?"

a wave of shyness crashes over you, eyes dropping to not meet his intense gaze but he won't let you.

"hey, don't start that with me now, look me in the eye." jj grips your chin and forces you to make eye contact, and involuntarily you whimper at the contact, "i been thinkin bout you since the party y'know."

to say your heart soared would be an understatement, the hold he had on you was the only thing keeping you from melting into the floor. there's no way it was true right? jj had been avoiding you like the plague--to the point you had got it into your head that he completely regretted the whole thing.

and that sinking feeling came over you again, maybe he did regret it and he was just throwing you a bone, "don't say that."

"why not."

"s'not nice." you voice dropped into a whisper to prevent it from trembling.

instead of replying he brushes his lips against yours, still cool from the water he drank, before he pressed a damp kiss to your cheek, "where's your room?"

it was embarrassing having him in there, the interior completely different from how you present yourself--pictures of you as a baby and a teenager tacked haphazardly to the wall, betty boop bed sheets, stuffed animals abound namely a giant care bear in the center, an old purple rug. you waited for the snarky comment you were sure would come but he didn't, instead he just scanned the wall of pictures with an amused grin, stopping to point at one from your thirteenth birthday--a rare one of you smiling, a slice of pizza dangling from your teeth with your arms in the air.

"shit, i remember you back then."

you pointedly try to be dismissive, dropping on the bed and picking at an imaginary piece of lint, "yeah?"

jj turns to look at you, moving to stand in front of you and cups your cheek to bring your gaze back to his, "yeah. you were real hot in the ass tryna get my attention like i'd want some little girl who barely had her tits yet."

a wave of heat runs over you in embarrassment, you remember those days all too well and you wanted nothing more than to forget them, "well...m'not like that anymore."

"nah...you're all grown up now ain't you?"

the bulge in his jeans was apparent as he brought your closer, letting you nuzzle your face against him. you pressed hot open mouth kisses to his erection through his jeans, making him groan at the contact. your heart pounded as you did your best to picture how big he was. on instinct you reach for his zipper, looking at him with nervous round eyes.

"go 'head sweet pea, know you want to." his encouragement was all you needed to pull him out and you couldn't help the gasp you let out at his size. of course he noticed.

"what's the matter? i know you've seen a dick before with how you were actin."

yeah you've seen a dick, but never one this big. you couldn't help but gape at him, your mouth hanging open while his red tip shone in your face.

irritation begins to itch at him as he sighs, "look, if you can't handle this i can just go-"

"no! no, just..i'm sorry." you lick your lips and press a kiss to his sticky tip, and when he sighs this time it's one of relief.

"that's not so bad now is it, sugar?

you shake your head no, parting your lips as he guides himself further into your mouth. the whole situation starts to hit you like a truck, just a couple weeks ago the object of your teenage affections was making you cum on his couch and now here you were--struggling to take his fat cock all the way down your throat. an involuntary moan rumbles in your chest, making him loudly groan at the vibrations.

"fuckin like this don't you sweet pea?" jj grips both sides of your head to properly fuck your face, bringing one leg up to the bed to get leverage over you.

drool and precum leak over your chin and onto your lap, your pussy throbbing from the combination of his taste and smell invading your senses. you'd been with guys both your age and older before but none like jj, none so clearly embodying what it means to be a man and it had you soaked. you tried to covertly bring your hand to your lap to palm your clit but it didn't escape his notice.

"look at you, bet you want this old man dick stuffed up your cunt huh?" he mocks, bottoming out in your throat despite your gagging, his balls resting against your chin as he rubs your nose in his pubic hair, "no real surprise you grew up into a slut."

your hand falters with a whimper, his words making you hot with a sick sense of erotic shame. but he quickly switches to cooing at you instead.

"it's alright, if you weren't i wouldn't get to fuck this hot. little mouth." he punctuates his words with a rough thrust, eventually letting himself settle into the pleasure as the wet sounds of your mouth and gagging fill the small room, letting the hand between your legs slide up your skirt and rub your swollen clit as you inch closer to the end and by the sound of it, jj isn't too far ahead of you.

"fuck, gonna cum down your throat sugar, y'ready?"

in the back of your mind you hear the car pulling into the gravel driveway and you panic, eyes wide in fear as you pushed against him but he was too strong--pushing you back onto the bed and straddling you as he fucked your face with reckless abandon--shooting salty cum down your throat with a loud groan with his pelvis pressed tight against your lips. the lack of oxygen makes you dizzy as you follow behind him with a soft squeak, clit pulsing as you clench around nothing.

he's quick to get off you, leaving you spluttering and coughing as he pulls his pants back up, buckling them just as your mom comes through the door looking for him.

"jesse? where'd you go?" her footsteps get closer each second, and you can practically feel her anger as she gets closer, "did your fuckin ungrateful ass run him off again-"

when she bursts through your door her face goes tight, her nostrils flaring as she looks at your watery eyes.

"what the fuck is he doin in here." if she was a better mother her words would be born of worry, but you could feel the venom spitting from her tone. so you don't answer, luckily jj does it for you.

"her a/c's leaking all over the floor. she just wanted me to take a look at it no big deal--hey! how bout that dinner huh?"

she's sated for now, his charm working on overdrive as he walks them out of your room, turning back with a wink as he closes your door and gives you time to wipe your face.

when you go back out, you see once again she's just picked up food from the wreck, spreading it out on your meager dinner table as you sat next to jj.

despite their laughing and talking all night, he kept his hand gripped around your thigh.

#✨.txt #jj maybank prompt #trailer park!jj #western nights

[angel5ofp0rn]

Ummm, how about price sabotaging the dates that the reader goes to

he would never do such a thing…

PT 5 😋

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

*im so shy at writing smut plz b patient ._.

“John, I really can't talk right now.”

“Who is he?”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You knew better than to talk about your plans around the children.

“He's just...” You sigh, unable to lie to him even though you wanted to. “His daughter is on Gabriel's soccer team.”

The line is silent.

“…John?

“Have you been seeing each other for a while, then?”

“This is none of your-”

“How long have you been seeing him?” John reworded his question, sounding more stern than casual.

You don’t need to tell him anything. It’s been a month since the two of you kissed outside of your oldest child’s school, and that was an accident.

“It’s our first date.” You mumble your admission.

John grunts, as if he’s finding the news amusing.

You look over yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling anxious. Shaking hands smooth over your little black dress, you run your fingers through your hair.

God, why does he still have this effect on you?

“Where’s he takin’ you?” John asks casually. “That little Italian place you like?”

You roll your eyes at this, picking your phone back up from where it was laying atop your vanity.

“I’m hanging up now.” You huff. “Tell the kids I love them.”

You didn’t give John a chance to say anything else before ending the call.

•••

The ambiance of the Italian restaurant is warm and inviting, with soft lighting and a gentle murmur of conversation. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from your phone call with John.

Tonight is about moving forward. For leaving your past in the past.

Your date, Matt, smiles at you across the table, his dark eyes twinkling in the low light.

"I'm really glad you agreed to go out with me," he says, his voice warm and genuine.

You return his smile, feeling grateful for his patience and understanding even after the several times you’d turned him down.

You were too busy, Linnie was sick, you had to go in to work…

You were hung up on John.

"Me too," you say softly.

As you delve into conversation, the outside world fades away. The past is in the past.

For the first time in a long while, you weren’t thinking about John.

Just as you start to lose yourself in the moment, a familiar voice interrupts from behind you.

“Mummy!”

Your heart sinks as you see John, that smug grin playing on his lips. On either side of him were your children, wide-eyed and excited, each clutching one of his hands.

"Daddy said we're having a fancy dinner!" your youngest exclaims, bouncing with enthusiasm as they approach your table.

Your stomach churns with disbelief as you try to comprehend what's happening. "John, what are you doing?" you demand, your voice tight with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression unapologetic. "The kids wanted to go out for dinner," he says casually, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You glance at Matt, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I'm so sorry," you murmur, mortified by the scene unfolding before you. “This is my-”

“John Price,” John reaches out to shake hands with your date, “Ex husband. SAS.”

“Uh… Matt.” Your date introduces himself, looking to you in confusion.

“I’m so sorry…” You squeeze your eyes closed, trying not to cry out of pure frustration. “I didn’t know he was going to do this.”

“Where’s our chairs?” Your oldest looks at you, noticing your table only had a seat for you and your date.

“We’ll be right over here, buddy.” John smiles, guiding the kids to the table next to your own.

It had a folded card on top that read “Reserved”.

This wasn’t a spur of the moment stunt.

John knew about your date and planned on crashing it all along.

You glance helplessly at Matt, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into this mess.

To your surprise, he reaches out to squeeze your hand, a small smile on his lips.

“Maybe we should go,” he says gently.

You nod, grateful that he’s so… understanding.

The two of you stand, and before you leave you stop by John’s table to give each of the kids a kiss on the cheek and let them know that you’ll see them tomorrow. You don’t even glance at John.

•••

“I had a really good time tonight,” Matt smiles as the two of you stand on your doorstep.

You hardly believe him; after John pulled that stunt at the restaurant, you were sure Matt would completely lose interest in pursuing this any further…

But to your surprise, he tried to make sure you enjoyed the rest of the night. The two of you had an impromptu picnic at the park, got ice cream and he even bought you flowers.

Matt is so… Nice.

“I did, too.” You smile, looking at your date with a small blush on your cheeks.

The two of you stare at each other for a beat before Matt speaks again, shyly this time.

“I’d really like to kiss you, if that’s okay.”

“That won’t be happening, mate.” John announces in the now open doorway, a bowl of cereal in his hand.

“John-!”

“Oh…” Matt blushes, taking a step back. “You two are still living together..?”

“No, we’re not,” You explain desperately. “John, what the fuck are you doing here?!”

John shrugs, taking another bite of his late-night snack. “Kids missed their real beds. I have the emergency key.”

You glare at him. He smiles.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll call you, yeah?” Matt offers as he starts towards his car. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Have a good night, Mike.” John waves with a grin, knowing damn well his name is Matt, not Mike.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You grumble, pushing past him into the house.

“What? I was bein’ nice to him.” John plays innocent, pushing the door closed with his foot. “Wasn’t really your type, though.”

“What’re you talking about?” You frown, removing your earrings.

John smirks. “He has brown eyes.”

You look at him like he’s insane… because you fully believe that is.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You like blue eyes, lovey.” John says softly, setting the bowl on the coffee table in the living room. “Mad for ‘em. You’d chase a man out to the parking lot over a pair of blue eyes.”

You don’t say a word.

John takes the bouquet of tulips from Matt from your hands, looking them over. You just watch.

“Doesn’t he know you hate tulips?” He looks back up to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t be an ass.” You mumble, taking them back. “How would he know that? This was our first date.”

“I knew by our first date.” John counters, his arms crossing over his chest. “Knew you wanted a white house with a garden in the back, a big bathroom with a claw tub, an engagement ring with a garnet or a pearl instead of an ‘ugly silver and diamond ring’… and a hundred blue-eyed babies.”

You look down at your tulips, then back up at John.

You hate that he’s right. That he knows you too well. That he always has.

“You still didn’t have to crash my date.” You mumble, sitting down on the sofa, laying the flowers down next to you.

“Couldn’t help it, love. I go after what I want.”

John’s familiar words made you feel something in the pit of your stomach… Something you couldn’t quite name.

You lean back on the sofa, lifting your foot to him.

John crouches down to help you remove your heels, gently setting them aside.

“So, how was he?” John murmurs, his hands creeping up under your dress and starting to slowly pull your panties down your thighs.

You lift your hips, making it easier for him. “He was nice…”

“Hm.” John shakes his head with a tut. “You’ve never liked the nice ones.”

You watch as your panties are now being pulled down around your ankles, John’s head near your knees. He looks up for a moment, waiting for your signal.

You run your fingers through his hair gently before pushing his head towards your sex.

John wasted no time pushing your dress up your thighs and pulling you closer to devour you like he was starving.

Something about John on his knees in front of you, your legs over his shoulders...

“You’re such an asshole,” You groan.

John pulls back, lifting his head from your wet, needy pussy. He’s teasing you out of revenge, you’re sure of it.

Your back arches, trying to get his mouth back where you want it, but John leans back a bit more.

“John,” You whine, desperately trying to push his head back down.

“What is it, lovey? Hm?” John asks softly, pushing his fingers into your entrance, slowly dragging them in and out as he looks up at you. “Tell me wha’ you want.”

“I want-” You bite back a moan. “I want you.”

“You have me, sweetheart. Always have.” John’s husky words sounded like poetry.

You nod, because he’s right.

It doesn’t take long for John to make you come; he still knows your body better than anyone ever will.

He presses a few gently kisses to the inside of your thigh before pulling back. He rubs your legs as you come down from your climax.

“Forgive me, lovey?” He asks smugly.

You nod, a small smile on your lips to go with your flushed cheeks and heavy eyelids.

“Good. Now c’mere, you never got that goodnight kiss.”

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#call of duty #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain price #john price #cod smut #captain price smut #cod headcanons #cod mwii #cod x reader #bravo six #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #price headcannon #captain price fluff #price headcanons #price x reader #cod x fem!reader #141 x reader #cod x you #x reader #exhusband!price #dad!price #141 headcanons #task force 141 #18+ only

[gglitch1dd]

Lets go home.

Yandere!Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Context: Your husband comes to take you back home.

Warning: Emotional abuse, gaslighting, isolation, threats of physical violence.

You carefully lay your son down to sleep. The little six month old newborn had his eyes closed as he slept soundly. He had grown so much since you gave birth to him, getting all chubby and bigger with every passing day. His soft curly green hair was everywhere but it was beautiful on him. He was so innocent and pure.

You kept your hand on his tummy as he was swaddled safely in his crib. You smiled gently down at him. Toshinori was your world. Your everything.

Nothing matter more than him.

You carefully let go of him as you moved to switch on the baby monitor before heading out of his room.

You walked down your apartment hallways. The apartment you've been in for more than a year was your sanctuary. You had worked so hard to keep it safe. Even though you knew this was no place for a baby like your son, being in a rather unsafe part of town and you working in a diner, but it was all you could do for the both of you.

You walked into your kitchen, the light of the kitchen still on. You let out a sigh as you rubbed the back of your neck. You opened the fridge. Nothing but leftovers from work, fresh milk, two oranges and jam.

It was tough working in a diner, but you couldn't afford to do anything else or work as anything else. It was hard trying to get a job heavily pregnant or with a newborn to care for. It was one of the reasons why you couldn't get Toshinori to drink from formula or try purees.

You just didn't have the money for it. Right now, he could survive off of breast milk, so that was saving you the trouble right now.

You let out a sigh, ignoring your hungry stomach as you closed the fridge door. You'd just have to make dinner, tomorrows breakfast if you wanted to stretch out your food. You considered yourself lucky that you were able to make a lot of milk for him.

You leaned against the counter as you took a moment. You'd have to ask your neighbour to look after him again while you were at work tomorrow. Maybe if you played your cards right, you'd be able to get some extra hours.

"Oh my sweet wife..." You froze.

That voice.

It was enough to send chills down your spine. it made every atom in your body freeze. You had not heard that voice in a year. You had worked so hard to not hear that voice.

You slowly moved to look back at the doorway. Standing there in all his horrifying glory was ProHero Deku. His large frame blocked the doorway as he kicked off of it and moved over to you. Heavy footsteps were loud enough that it felt like impending doom heading straight towards you. You were shaking as he walked over to stand in front of you.

Poisonous green eyes looked over your body as he took you in. He frowned, his dark eyebrows knitting together as he did so. His gloves were off as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. You were shaking. You barely could breathe.

He was standing right in front of you. "You've been through a lot... haven't you?" He asked lowly. His calloused fingers moved to brush against your cheek, feeling your soft skin. "Look at you. You're all skin and bones. No wife of a hero should look like this."

You could barely muster up the strength to talk to him. You were breathless. "H-how... h-how..."

His eyebrows raised in a questioning manner as he tilted his head to the side. "How? How did I find you?" He asked. He didn't wait for your confirmation already knowing. "I must admit, I taught you well. You really tried your best but I found you a few months ago actually. I was watching you."

He paused for a moment before a small smile went to his face. He chuckled in amusement, his smile pulling into a giggle as he tilted his head. He then lost the amusement but still smiled, a sort of sympathetic look on his face.

"You've worked so hard. I admire your efforts. I knew you would make a great mother to our son. It's one of the reasons I love you."

One of the reason he picked you.

Midoriya Izuku told you that he loved you, but he really just chose you. Hand picked you and plucked you away from your life so easily and sweetly, no one in their right mind would think he would do it intentionally.

You felt his large hand wrap around your neck, big enough to consume you and strong enough to crush you. He always made sure that you were aware of that. "Now..." He pulled you foreword against his chest. "How about you greet your husband properly?"

You didn't get a choice as you were pulled to kiss his lips as he bent down to kiss you. They were still as warm and as gentle as you remember them, and just as poisonous and numbing. You couldn't move even as you struggled. He wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you nice and close against his broad strong chest.

A rush of fear ran down your spine. You hated the power difference between the both of you. He was over 200 pounds of muscle and strength, large and broad enough to crush you. He was the strongest man in Asia and was the number one hero of this country.

You couldn't even budge his hold if you tried.

Fighting him was useless, and often came with punishment.

Izuku let out a moan against your lips as he stuck his tongue down your throat. You whimpered as you felt his hand move down to grab at your bottom. He let out a groan as he separated from you. "God, I missed you. I missed your kisses and this perfect body." He stated as he scanned you. "Especially since," His eyes moved up to you. "You hid away from me."

"I.. I'm sorry."

He smiled. "Don't lie to me." He stated simply with a horrifying smile on his face. "If you were, you wouldn't have run. You wouldn't have stayed away hiding yourself and our son. Speaking of which..." Izuku turned to look to the hallway. He let go of you as he seemed content in something else.

Your eyes widened when you realised that he was going to Toshinori. A chill of terror rushed through you as you ran after him. "No. No please!" You ran to try and pull on his arm, trying to get him to stop heading to your son's room but he was too strong. "Leave him alone! Don't touch-"

Suddenly the hold that you had on him was shifted as he grabbed at your wrist and you felt him apply pressure just there. A cry left your mouth in pain. Izuku turned to look at you. He pulled you closer, a frown on his face. "Shh. You'll wake him up." He told you, before letting go of you, and entering the baby's room.

You clutched at your wrist in pain, trying to bite back cries, but you had to push through. You walked over to where he was.

Izuku moved to walk over to the crib. He looked down at your son who slept soundly. A gentle smile trickled onto his face. "Look at him." He let out softly. "To think you didn't want to get pregnant at first, but look at what I gave you. Look at what you blessed us with." He put his hand down into the crib, feeling Toshinori's soft green curls. He let out a soft scoff. "My son." He said in almost disbelief. "My one and only son."

He carefully reached down inside and picked him out of the crib. His big hands easily held and supported the baby in the correct way. Izuku moved to hold Toshinori to the right side of his chest. He took off his white hero cape, the large thing was daunting and the symbol of his heroism. He wrapped it around his son as he coddled him to his chest, holding him in what would be his legacy.

Izuku looked down at his sleeping son with a smile. He hummed as he pat his back. "He's beautiful... What type of monster are you to try and keep my son away from me?" He asked softly, not taking the smile off his face. His gaze flicked up at you, his eyes flicking with All for One, glowing in the darkness as his face fell of all emotions. "Raising a boy without a father? Do you know how bad that is? What type of mother would willingly do that to her own son."

You felt guilt trickle into your body. You knew not to listen to him but you did anyways. "You... You-"

"You were going to raise him, in this filth?" He asked motioning around your apartment with an unamused look on his face. "You call this living? You left a life of luxury and care for our son to give birth to him in this..." He couldn't even find the words for it. He let out a breath as he looked down at his boy. "I guess it doesn't matter now. He's father is here to provide for him and his stupid mother." He moved Toshinori up and down in his sleep.

He finally put the young boy down into his crib. With Toshinori warm and safe in his coddled hero cape, Izuku flicked his gaze back to you.

Fear ran through you as you tried taking a step back but suddenly he was back in front of you, his hand wrapped around your neck restricting your airflow. You gasped in shock as you moved your hands to his, clawing at his hard ironclad grip to let go of you. "You're such a stupid woman. Hm? Yes, Izuku. I'm so stupid." He mocked your voice, nodding your head forcefully. "I left while three months pregnant and I could have run into a villain that hates you and I could have died along with our son. I would have been living horribly if you didn't take mercy on me." He mimicked your voice. He looked down at you with an awe filled expression. "Aww honey. You're so sweet. I know I'm so forgiving towards you, even though you don't deserve it do you? Do you?"

You clawed at his scarred hands trying to fight free. You coughed as you tried sucking in what little air you were allowed.

He leaned down low, closer to your face. "If you ever do this again..." He whispered down to you. "I will break your legs so that you won't ever be able to run away from me. You don't need legs to be a good wife and a good mother." He reminded you, so casual in his threats.

He finally let go of your neck making you gasp in relief. You coughed as you clutched at your neck.

He leaned down and kissed your head. "Lets go home, my love. To where you belong."

-Glitch1d

[Midoriya Izuku's Masterlist]

#izuku x reader #mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #yandere deku #yandere midorya #yandere izuku x reader #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere izuku #izuku midoriya

[woso-dreamzzz]

Camp

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first time at camp

The first time you go to Sweden Camp, you're still a baby.

You don't even remember it but Magda does.

Magda knows it as the day that she was no longer the favourite Eriksson in camp. It doesn't really matter that she was the only Eriksson in the team but after your arrival, she might as well have been a ghost because everyone was just so enamoured with you.

"Where is she?" Frido demands when Magda turns up on the first day of camp babyless.

"With Pernille," Magda says," She'll come in a few days. It's not easy to travel with a baby, you know."

Frido waves a hand dismissively. "But they'll be here soon, right?"

"You know they're only here for a few hours, right? They're not staying."

Frido doesn't seem to hear her or at least doesn't acknowledge Magda's said anything because she goes off to do something else while Magda stays frozen in confusion in the lobby.

Pernille arrives a few days after camp begins and a day before the match.

The team are out practising on the pitch, running through passing drills. No one notices her there for a long while until Magda does a bad pass to Frido and the ball goes flying.

Frido turns around to retrieve it and immediately sprints off in the opposite direction. It leads to a few people following her gaze and breaking off into sprints of their own.

Tragically, Magda is one of the last to notice your arrival and is kept at the back of the throng of Swedish players that now encircle you and Pernille.

She forces her way through viciously until she pops out just as Pernille transfers you to Frido's arms.

You're still tiny but are old enough now to have enough strength to support your own head so you happily sit in Frido's arms as she coos at you softly.

You giggle, reaching a hand out to smack against her nose.

"Oh!" Frido says with a little laugh," Did you get my nose? Is that my nose? I think it is!"

Ordinarily, Magda would tease Frido for how high-pitched her voice has gotten in your company but then she'd be open to being called a hypocrite because Magda's voice does the same.

"Look at you," Zećira coos," Those are good reflexes." She nudges Magda teasingly. "I'm thinking Operation Mušović for baby Eriksson?"

Magda shoves her back. "It will be a cold day in hell when you turn my baby into the second version of you."

"It doesn't matter what position she plays," Caroline says decisively as the crowd parts for their captain," Because this little lady-" She takes you from Frido. "-Is the future captain of Sweden."

Pernille, who has mostly been ignored, sighs. "Or Denmark. She's my child too, you know."

"I suppose we could lend you her," Caroline says diplomatically," Denmark youth player, Sweden captain."

"I'll settle for it the opposite way around," Pernille replies but she's waved off as Caroline presents you to the rest of the team.

"You better watch out," Caroline says," Because we might have a new Eriksson in our defensive line."

"A Harder in your offence more like," Pernille says but, like Magda, she's mostly ignored.

Neither can do much as the team passes you around like something sacred. Everyone takes the time to coo and play with you before you're moved onto the next person.

The plan was for you to be introduced to the team for a few hours but be gone by dinner. Somehow though, you've taking your bottle in the middle of the dining hall.

Even more strangely, Magda is not the one doing it.

It had been a little difficult to get you to take a bottle after months of just Pernille's breast but Magda's glad she's got the opportunity to feed you as well.

She just wishes it didn't mean that other people can feed you now too.

Right now, it's Frido and Magda should have known that she would do this. She just adores you and hoarding your time is her game plan at home as well so it's no wonder she's doing the same at camp too.

"No," Magda says as Olivia appears by the table," Don't you dare."

"Magda," Pernille says," It's sweet."

Magda ignores her, pointing at Olivia in warning. "No! I told you guys no!"

"Everyone put into a pot," Olivia says," It's a collective gift. You can't say no."

"You know what? Yes, yes I can. No! You're spoiling her!"

"She's a baby," Olivia insists," She deserves to be spoiled!"

Magda can agree with that. You do deserve to be spoiled but there's a difference between getting spoiled and whatever Olivia's got in the four bags in her arms.

"No!" Magda insists," It's too much!"

"Not enough," Frido says," I was going to get her more but Caroline put a cap on the amount of money someone could put in the pot."

"Frido!"

"What? Didn't you listen? I didn't get her as much as I wanted to!"

Magda goes to retort back but a hand on her arm from Pernille makes her fall silent.

"Thank you, girls," Pernille says, taking the bags," I hope she gets lots of use out of what you've bought her."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

[felassan]

Jeff Grubb said the following a few hours ago on his show, Jeff Grubb's Game Mess, "Perfect Dark and Summer Game Mess update":

"But, for Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, that, this is one that I've mentioned before, is coming out this year [2024]. And, hey, will it be at the Summer Game Fest or around that time? Yeah, they've said that themselves over at EA, so that's not some thing from me, that's them, but, I, that would be my expectation because, yeah, still sounds like that game is coming out later this year. So, where would they announce it other than Summer Game Fest? They could hold their own thing, but my expectation is they'll have - well, if they hold their own thing, I think it will be part of the Summer Game Fest orbit, so that's what I mean, like, Summer Game Fest or somewhere else. This point, it seems like we should see that game at Summer Game Fest, or around that time, and they should have all of the details for that thing, because, everyone seems really happy with that game. They're pretty pleased with how it turned out. And the plan is to launch that this calendar year, so not EA's Fiscal year, not before March 2025 or anything like that, this year, and I don't think you're gonna have to wait too long after this thing gets announced to play it. But we'll see. We'll see for sure here pretty soon. As it stands, I'm just gonna say, coming out this year. I have it on my Fantasy Critic draft, like, it's one of my games, because I'm pretty sure it's coming out this year."

[source, two. the second source link is the original video, with timestamp]

(bolded emphasis mine).

there were no further mentions of DA:D or BioWare in the video.

-----

SGF timings & events info:

June 7th 2024: Summer Game Fest 2024 opening live show. 2pm PT / 5pm ET / 9pm GMT. A 2 hour ‘what’s next in gaming’ showcase streaming live. I think Summer Game Fest 2024 itself runs from then til June 29th, with the majority of events happening by June 13th [?]. The Xbox Showcase and the PC game showcase are happening on June 9th. Also it’s rumored that in May 2024 PlayStation will be doing a showcase or state of play event. in the video linked above Jeff commented on the PS event as well, saying, "I still think the May [PS] showcase is happening, I think it's a showcase, still could be a State of Play or some event of some sort, but probably a showcase."

-----

edit/update: post has been tidied up and the word for word transcript added.

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #im out rn so heres the quick version of this post ^^ #sorry if you see/saw this post twice #edit/update: i'm home now so this post has been tidied up and #I added the full word-for-word quote from the video

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 21

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

It isn’t until you hear the front door that you leave your bed. Much of the morning you’ve spent listening to the buzz of your mom and Steve’s murmurs. They’re plotting their surprise and you’re left to suffocate in anxiety. You can’t think of anything they might be planning. 

You get up and gently open your door. You tiptoe into the hall and peek into the kitchen. No one’s there. The bathroom door is closed and you hear your mother’s cough from inside. That reassures you somewhat.  

You continue down the hall and stop by the front door. Once more, the drone of Steve’s deep timber cuts through the walls. You lean over to peek through the window beside the door, tugging the edge of the curtain back with a single finger.  

Just at the threshold of your mom’s lot, Steve stands with his broad back to you. You glimpse two figures on the other side of him; blonde, primped, and pretty. It’s Marge and Callie from the HOA. They hand something to him and he examines it as he bends his neck. Their voices drift in through the screen but the words are obscured by distance. 

Marge plays with the perfect flip at the bottom of her hair and Callie pushes out one hip. You wonder if they’ve hand delivered their first rebuke. Oddly, their interaction doesn’t seem tense. 

The women preen up at Steve and finally walk off. He watches after them, shifting on his feet, then turns and marches up his walk. You get a better look at what’s in his hand as he diverts and stop on the other side of the low fence. You strain to keep sight of him around the trim of the window. It’s a tupperware container. He dumps it in the bin and grimaces, letting the lid fall back down heavily. 

You back up as you hear the bathroom door. Your turn and sniff, rubbing your temples as you drag your feet along the hallway. She emerges in a cloud of hairspray and perfume. You crinkle your nose at her. 

“Morning,” you babble dumbly. 

“Would you hurry up,” she sneers, “we gotta be going soon.” 

“Right, sorry, mom, I was just--” 

“Just putting something on,” she snaps. “Steve’s gone to get dressed then he’s back to drive us.” 

She brushes past you roughly and you peer after her as she goes into the kitchen and pours what’s left in the coffee pot into a mug. She tuts and shakes her head as she drinks tediously around her painted lips. The makeup and hair suggest that jeans really aren’t an option. 

You return to your room and scour your dresser and closet. You don’t have much more than handmedown jeans and tee shirts. Like everything else about you, clothes are an afterthought. You only have that dress. 

You change into the polkadot dress. It doesn’t fit any better than last time. It’s too hot for a sweater as a sheen already settles over your forehead. You peek out before you cross the hall. You think your mom is done in the bathroom. 

You brush your teeth and wash your face, going through the basic steps of your routine. You never do very much. You wrangle in your hair as best as you can but you still feel inadequate. You step back into the hall as your mom’s footfalls stomp closer. 

She’s in a green satin dress. The forest tone is muted but the cut is elegant and the fabric expensive. You haven’t seen her in anything that nice since before her diagnosis. Together with her hair and makeup, and the necklace around her neck, she doesn’t look sick at all. 

“Oh, mom, you look pretty,” you say. 

“Yes, yes, move,” she elbows into the bathroom, “I have to touch up.” 

You nod and your cheeks pinch. You flit back to your bedroom and search the little basket in your top drawer. You find the silver bow pin and weave it into your hair. It’s better than nothing. You shrug. You don’t have any other jewellery really. 

You close your door and wait in your room as your mom snaps and slams around in the bathroom. Her footsteps thump down the hall then click back up in heels. She sounds like she’s pacing. She only stops as the front door opens and you hover on the foot of your bed. 

Your mother holler’s your name and you stand up. You come out and scurry down the hall. You pick out the brown strappy sandals that don’t really go with your dress. Your other option is sneakers and you don’t think she’d be very happy about that. 

“Well, you two look lovely,” Steve praises as he stands just inside the door. 

You murmur a thanks and look up. He’s wearing a blue suit and his hair is combed and style neatly. Your eyes round as you look between him and your mom. You’re underdressed to a painful degree. 

“Ready to go?” Steve asks as he checks his watch, “we gotta be there by ten.” 

“Ready,” your mother chimes. 

Steve backs up and opens the door as he steps out onto the porch. He holds it as your mom struts through and you follow as you cross your arm over your stomach and rub your arm. He beams at you as you try shrink into nothing. 

You follow your mom up the walk and to Steve’s car pulled up at the curb. As you stand at the passenger side and Steve strolls up behind you, your mom leans in and lowers her voice to a harsh whisper, “pull your dress up.” 

She pinches the strap and you look down. You gulp and try to adjust it to cover more of your chest. You really don’t know when they got so... big. You turn away as Steve passes and goes around the back end. As you tug on your dress, he glances over and you make a face, caught in the adjustment. His cheek ticks and he quickly looks away and strides up the other side. The door unlock with a click. 

“Alright, ladies,” his opens his door, “today’s the day.” 

You get into the backseat as his declaration rings in your ears. The day? What day? You lift yourself and push your skirt under you as it catches behind your bum and you drop down, your chest bouncing with the motion and you once more tug on the flimsy fabric. 

Your eyes are drawn up as Steve fixes the mirror and you meet his eyes in the reflection. Can he see you? You quickly avert your gaze out the window and pull on the seat belt. Your stomach is roiling like a steaming pot. You don’t like surprises. 

🏠

The large metal letters above the romanesque entry read ‘CITY HALL’. You walk behind Steve and your mom as they enter through the double doors. Their pace is urgent and they are quiet with anticipation. You do your best to keep up though you wonder if they even remember you’re there. 

The twists and turns past the plaques that delineate different departments and arrows the point to others has you disoriented. Why are you here anyway? It seems like important stuff for adults. Well, you are an adult too. 

You join a queue inside an office with windowed walls. You hadn’t been paying attention when you entered. You crowded your mom and Steve as you try to stay away from the person behind you. The line moves slowly as the clerks behind glass call numbers out to bring up the next person. 

“Rogers, Steve,” Steve declares as he steps up and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, then recites your mother’s name. 

“Oh, yes, the Judge will see you in private chambers,” the man in the booth says, “your witnesses?” 

“Got one, the other is on his way,” Steve tuts and lifts his wrist, checking the time, “he will be here by ten.” 

“Alright, you just want to go to your left and curl around this desk. You’re in Chamber Three,” the clerk directs and hands back the paper, “congratulations.” 

Steve nods and backs up. As he turns, your mother clings to his hand and he slowly closes his fingers around hers. He glances back as you follow, careful not to tread on his heels. You furrow your brow. It sounds like... 

“Surprises,” Steve chuckles as he stops before a door marked with a number three and lets go of your mom, “we’re getting married.” 

Your mom steps into the open doorway and you stop just outside as Steve lingers by the frame. You gape up at him, speechless. He smiles and rubs your arms. 

“We’re gonna be one big happy family,” he says, “I’m gonna take care of you and mom.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

[ribread03]

Dance Party! M.Sturniolo x Reader

Bread talk: I came up with this idea while writing my Nick Sturniolo head cannons.. so yeah. I hope you like this... A HUGE thank you to @6ix9inewiturmom with helping me pick out songs for this. ILY thank you. Also this is a LOOOONG one.

WC: 2597 [just stick with it]

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex [wrap before you tap], idk what else honestly. let me know if I missed anything important..

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't ya wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" Nick sings loudly with the music.

"Don't ya wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?" You're singing the next line of the song.

"Dont Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls plays loudly in the kitchen of the triplets house. Me and Nick dancing our hearts out not having a care in the world of what we look like to the outside eye.

Dancing and laughing with Nick and you spin around the kitchen, bumping into him every once and a while. Rolling your shoulders to the beat of the song. Moving your hips in a sexual way not thinking about anything but you a Nick.

"I probably be just as crazy about you if you were my old man" Both of you singing this line together. While you point at Nick with your finger.

Laughing as the song ends and the next one comes on. You look over the the couch and see Matt sitting there on his phone. Looking over at Nick you now see Chris behind him.

Cheering as the next song starts because it's one of your favorites. "Get Low" by Lil Jon feat. Ying Yang Twins comes on. You start to sing the song. Getting low when it says to get low still singing.

"Till the sweat drops down my balls!" You sing loudly in the house.

"Let me see you get low you scared you, scared you." Chris now singing the part of the song. Dropping down to the floor at this point you bounce back up shaking your ass.

Still singing the song still you move your hips to the left and to the right when that part of the song comes on, wiggling when they song says so.

"To the window, To the wall!" All three of you sing. Pointing to to the window and the wall.

You now feel someone behind you. Knowing the only other person that could have joined you guys would be Matt. The lyrics "Bend over to he front touch toes back dat ass up and down and get low" come on and you do that as you have been with the rest of the song.

Not realizing how close Matt really was to you. You end up hitting his crotch. Him immediately grabbing your hip so you don't rub against him, but you do anyway. You know what you are doing to him. You and Matt have always had a flirty relationship, agreeing that you guys where just friends. Everyone knew that you both kinda liked each other or thought the other one was cute.

Plastering a smile on your face when you feel Matt grip your hips tighter when you directly rub up against his growing boner. Backing up a little more when the same lyric is said again.

The song now ending you step forward going to make away from Matt but his hands are still on you. He quickly pulls his hands away from you and moves them to cover the small bulge that is now in his pants.

The next song starts with some whistling. "Moves Like Jagger" is now playing over the speakers. You start to jump up and down to the beat of the song. Spinning in a circle as you sing the song. Nick and Chris in their own world dancing with each other.

You feel hands on your shoulders stopping you from dancing. You huff and turn your head seeing Matt's faces close to your ear. You can feel his hot jagged breath on your neck as he talks.

"Wanna see my moves?" He pauses for a sec, but continues when you don't move. "They're just like Jaggers."

Now spinning to face him, he winks and walks off to his room. Leaving you there to finish dancing thinking about what he has just said to you.

~~

Knocking on Matt's door it quickly opens and he pulls you inside. Gasping at the sudden jolt you lose your balance falling right into Matt's chest. You are thinking about whether or not it was a good idea to come down here.

Matt chuckling, he looks at you. You now realize how long you have been standing holding onto his shirt in silence. Stepping back from Matt you look up. "hi." You speak at almost a whisper.

"hey." He says back almost as quite as you.

The tension in the room is so thick you could see it. The dim lights of Matt's room not helping. The mood seems to be set, his bed has silk sheets on it, paired with a matching quilt.

You finally decide to speak up about what Matt had said to you 5 minutes prior. "What's with this 'wanna see my moves' thing?" You question, seriously not knowing what he was talking about.

Matt sits and stares at you for a few seconds before finally taking two steps towards you, grabbing your face and planting his lips on yours. You are shocked at his sudden action. You slowly start to kiss him back when you realize what is happening. Matt pulls away from you lips and looks you in the eyes.

"That help?"

You answer him by kissing him back, this time he is the one that is caught off guard. Pulling away you answer with a breathy "yeah" and a quite giggle. Matt pulls you closer to him with his hands on your waist.

You cant stop smiling. You never thought this day would come when you would be able to kiss Matt. Not wanting to push Matt to do anything you just put your arms around his neck and wait for him to make the next move.

Matt without any warning picks you up, walks across his room and places you on his bed. Standing in front of you he bends down to be level with your face "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" He whispers in your ear.

His hot breath fanning your neck sends shivers down your spine, making you let out a low whimper. Chuckling Matt moves his face so now he is making eye contact with you. Deciding hes not going to do something about the obvious tension in the room, you kiss him again.

This time it gets heated. Your back is pushed against the bed, Matt on top of you. Matt's hands are on your waist. Your hands rest on his chest, playing with the fabric of his shirt. His grip is strong making it so you cant move. He is leaving wet kisses down your jaw and neck, then moving back up to your face.

Matt's hands are traveling up your sides, making you squirm at his touch. He pulls away and lifts his shirt up and over his head. You've seen Matt shirtless before, but you cant help and stare right now, taking in every detail of his torso. Matt clears his throat becoming nervous under your gaze.

"sor-." You go to say. Matt cuts you off by kissing you again. His hands playing with the bottom of your shirt now. Taking the hint you break the kiss and slide your thin top up and over your head. Matt is the one staring now, as your chest is now only covered by your lacy bra. Giggling quietly "My eyes are up here silly." Grabbing his chin and bringing his eyes back up to yours.

"You're so beautiful." Matt is kissing you again not giving you time to even say anything back. Smiling in the kiss at the compliment. You go to toy with his belt. Matt pulls back from the kiss looking down at where your hands are, so close to where he needs them but so far away.

You drop your hands as quickly as you can thinking that he is uncomfortable with what you're doing. Matt quickly grabs them and puts them back, letting you know to keep going. You quickly unbuckle his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Still kissing Matt you feel his hands at the waist band out your pants. Nodding yes to let him know it's ok to take them off.

Matt rips your pants down your legs, along with his own leaving you both in your underwear. Your arms go to wrap around your waist to hide from Matt but he stops you by holding your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before moving down to your jaw and neck.

Your breath hitches when he kisses your collar bone. He looks up at you, making eye contact. "Can I take this off?" He ask playing with the strap of your bra. Shaking you head yes. "Words now please." He says. Instant butterfly's enter your tummy.

"Yes, take it off Matt." You say slightly moaning his name when he kisses the top of your breast.

Matt takes your bra off and his mouth quickly finds your nipple swirling it around with his tongue. Whimpering as he does this you can feel him smiling onto your skin. Hands flying to his hair to try and push him down to where you need him the most. "Matt."

"Hm" He responds not taking his mouth off of your body traveling farther down. "What do you need sweetheart."

"I need y-you, Matt, I need you so bad." You confess.

"All you had to do was ask." He starts to move down your body, now at the top of your panties. He loops his finger under the top of them and looks at you once again in the eyes asking for permission to take your final piece of clothing off.

"Matt, just take them off already." You beg slightly, becoming needy. "Please, I need you inside of me already." This makes Matt's cheeks turn a slight shade of pink as if his not undressing you.

Ripping your panties off Matt stares at your naked body laying in front of him. "How did I get so lucky?" He ask himself. He's now face to face with you pussy. You feel his warm breath on your heat. You can feel you heart rate pick up, this is something you never thought would be happening to you.

Gasping when you feel his tongue lick a strip through your folds. You can feel him smirking against you as his tongue moves at a fast speed now. You are becoming a mess from just his tongue, how would it feel when he is pounding into you, his dick hitting the right spot every time.

"M-matt" His name comes out of your mouth louder than you thought because he stops his movements and puts his finger to his lip tell you to be quite. His chin is covered in your juices.

"shh. Wouldn't want them to hear." He says nodding his head towards the door implying he was talking about his brothers.

Quickly nodding your head Matt gets back to work. Your legs start to shake not to long after he starts again. Your hands are pulling on his hair. "Matt-I ug- Im close." You manage to moan out. Matt quickens his pace when he hears this.

"Cum for me, let it all go pretty girl" Hearing his words you cum all over his face. Your legs are shaking, your thighs squeezing around his head as your organism washes over you.

As you are trying to catch your breath Matt's face comes out from in-between your legs. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he comes up to your face and gives you a quick little peck on the lips. His lips travel from your lips to the top of your breast.

His hard on presses against your thigh, pressing your thigh up into his cock. He whimpers at the feeling when you do this, lightly biting down on your chest. You do this again, this time earning a moan from Matt. Smirking at what you do to him, you quickly flip so now you are on top of him.

You loop your fingers in the waist band of his underwear and he takes the hit and pulls them down. You can't help but stare for a second, thinking about how it will fit. Matt clears his throat and you bring your attention back to his face.

"Are you sure about this?" Matt ask you.

"Yeah." You tell him. "What about you? Do you want this to?"

"Most defiantly."

With that you kiss Matt. Pulling away Matt flips you guys over again so he is on top once again. He lines up his tip with your entrance. He slowly pushes into. You wince at this pain as he stretches you out. He slowly starts to thrust into you.

Little sounds escape your lips when the pain becomes pleasure. Matt starts to move his hips. You feel over the moon right now, never in a billion years would you think this would be happening, all because of a stupid song.

Matt's lips reconnect with yours. His hips are moving slowly still. "Mhp- Matt." You let quiets moans and whimpers of his name leave your mouth, pushing Matt to move his hips faster.

"You're so pretty." He lets out. "I hope you know that." Blushing at his comments his name slips past your lips again.

Matt hits the spot that makes you crumble every time. You can't hold back your moans anymore, letting the whole house know what is going on. Matt is quick to put his fingers in your mouth. Picking up his pace as his rams into you.

You're close to cumming again, you can tell Matt is as well. His thrust are become sloppy and uneven. "C-close." is all you can mumble out.

"Me to, me to." He tells you as he takes his fingers out of your mouth wanting to hear the noises he causes you to make. "Cum with me y/n?"

Before the whole sentence leaves his mouth your cumming, him not far after you. Matt pulls out and falls down on the bed next to you. You look over at him, his face slightly sweaty from the events that just had happened. "That was..." You start but trail off.

"Yeah it was." He knows what you mean, you just smile at the fact he thinks that same. He looks over at you, making eye contact with you. He leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips before getting out of bed and walking into his bathroom. He walks back into the room with a washcloth.

Walking over to you he drags the cloth all over your thighs being careful around your more sensitive parts as he cleans you up. Peppering kisses all around your body as he does this.

Once he is done he throws the cloth in his dirty clothes bin and grabs you a sweatshirt and underwear from his dresser. After helping you put them on, and his own pair, he climbs back into bed with you. Snuggling up close to you, you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Soo-" you start before Matt cuts you off.

"Can we talk in the morning? I just want to cuddle right now..." Matt shamelessly admits.

Laughing lightly at his small confession, "Yeah." You answer. "I like that idea" Snuggling back into his chest. Slowly you start to drift asleep, in arms you're used to sleeping in but this time it's different. A good difference, one that you like and could get used to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANpt2.: I hoped you guys like this. This took me forever to write but I really enjoyed it. this is so long so thanks for reading the whole thing. OKAY BYE LOVE YOU <3!!!

#Spotify #matt #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets

[exactlyyoungchaos]

Loss of my life.

(ex) husband Simon X f!Reader

Part 2.

CW: divorce, hurt, angst, emotional cheating, trauma. let me know if I missed any, enjoy!!!!

(Don't mind the mistakes.)

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin married

Still alive, killing time at the cemetery

Nobody prepares you for something like this. What do you do when someone you loved more than your own life, rips apart your soul in pieces? What do you do when the one person you trusted your heart with, leaves you to gather scraps of whatever is left of it?

It's been months since that day. The day you found out that the man you love loved someone else. You moved out the next day, he didn't try and stop you, didn't try to argue or make you stay, he just stood in the corner and watched as you packed up your whole life in a suitcase and left.

When your lawyer served him divorce papers, he didn't hesitate. he signed it immediately as if he was trying to get rid of you, or maybe he was. you don't know, you don't know anything anymore.

When you were young, you were scared to be in relationships because the idea of trusting somebody with everything and giving them the power to hurt you was ridiculous. you always thought love was a sham, just something for romance books and movies.

it was when you met Simon you realized it was all real. the chemical reaction inside your brain that makes you want to stay with someone forever. Laughing at their stupid jokes, waking up next to them, love them was all real. Or maybe it wasn't.

now all you recall, was how you almost had it all. how it all just slipped from your hands without warning.

maybe it was your fault. maybe you weren't enough. maybe you didn't know how to love properly, maybe you were unlovable.

maybe, maybe, maybe.......

Or perhaps it was a sign that a prophecy in your name had already been written. you are not meant for love, you were sent here to be alone, to be betrayed by whoever you trust, to be unworthy. so others would know what not to be.

You sat on the bed of your new apartment, looking at your wedding ring that was still on your finger. you couldn't get yourself to take it off. your heart wasn't ready to accept what your brain already knew.

You couldn't cry anymore, your tears were gone, and all that was left was a deep ache of loss in your chest.

Why? Why did he do this to you? why did he make those vows when he never meant to keep them? you wanted answers, that you knew you'd never get.

If your parents saw you in this state, they would be ashamed of you. you're ashamed of yourself. you can't eat, you can't get out of your bed, because something counterfeits dead.

The house you once called home is haunted by the ghost of lies and deceit. How long has it been going on? how many times did you aly with him in your bed and he wished it was her instead of you?

You were driving yourself crazy. Day by day you were losing your sanity as you combed through your whole life trying to find where it all went wrong.

you've been getting calls from your friends, and messages that you keep ignoring. What were you going to tell them? They bought his lies too.

He said forever and you bought it.

And the worst part is, you miss him. You miss your life, how it used to be filled with laughter, love, and light with him. How he used to hold you when you broke down. How he caressed you when you were in pain, how he made love to you.

Now you're sitting in a cold, dark, and empty apartment on another continent, you don't know who to call and ask for help.

All of your things remind you of him. Do you throw all of the things you built together or keep it? you were tired, mending your gashes on your own. He dealt a final blow and left you to deal with it.

And he doesn't care. He's already with her. he already replaced you. Nothing you two had was real.

But then why do you feel like dying? Why was it that you can't feel anything anymore? Is this how it will always be? Will you ever be okay enough to want to live?

all of these were very big questions you weren't ready to ask yet, or maybe you never will be.

you needed a distraction and you needed it fast.

you picked up your phone for the first time in the day and went straight to the one person you knew who could give you a reprieve from yourself.

Laswell.

You felt numb as you dialed her number as if a switch had been turned off in your brain. She picked up on the third ring.

"Sparrow,"

She still called you by your code name. Your first team that you were assigned to as a rookie medic gave it to you.

"I need a job," is all you said.

AN: SOOOOO!! DID WE LIKE IT? THOTS? I might have shed a tear or two writing this. don't mind me.

@ssc7514 @rrtxcmt

If you want to be tagged in the next part do tell me.

Until next time sugarplums.

ALI-💋💋💋

#cod fic #cod mw x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #angst #simon riley angst #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #kate laswell