#and meant well but it didn’t go so well :

[pinkcarnatixns]

georgia stanway | flowers for vases

synopsis georgia does her first tattoo on you, it leads to a confession after of years of feelings [1.6K] contents best friends to lovers, nervous georgia, tattooing, mentions of needles

You normally took pride in your fearlessness when it came to adding to your growing collection of ink on your skin, but now you were completely petrified.

When Georgia had first approached you to be her canvas for her very first tattoo on real skin, you had immediately agreed- your haste chalked up to a trust built on years of friendship and definitely not the fact you’d do anything she asked. 

What your sometimes scatterbrained best friend had forgotten to mention was that this was not a private affair, but a moment that was going to be televised for all the nation to see. Of course, this meant that you’d have to act like you weren’t completely smitten with the woman-  in front of a bunch of cameras while you tried to not blush at her hands on you. 

Safe to say, you were quite ticked off with Georgia when you first arrived at the small tattoo studio’s address, only to be greeted with people rushing filming equipment inside the building from a van with a big ‘BBC’ plastered on the side. When you entered the studio with a quirked eyebrow and crossed arms, her face clearly dropped as she realized her mistake, rushing over to your side. 

“I completely forgot to mention the filming part, didn’t I?” She pouts at you, grabbing a hold of your bicep to plead her case.

You sighed, “You know, I really thought this was a sweet gesture of trust between us, not to get you a big check from the BBC.”

At your jest, she deflated even further and you struggled to stop your lips from quirking up at her dramatics. You could never stay mad at her for very long, especially when she made you laugh just by being in the same room as her. Still, you were a bit mortified at the possible outing of your feelings for the girl being broadcast to the world, so you tried your best to hold your ground. 

“It’s not like that at all! You know there’s nobody else I’d rather share this with, I swear!” She held onto your biceps tightly, and you felt your resolve washing away like a sand castle with the wave of her cologne that hit your nose. 

Her hands were trembling lightly, and at her gaze and proximity you quickly turned shy, only managing to mumble out, “You don’t mind sharing it with everyone in the nation, clearly.” 

However, taking pity on her already clearly fried nerves, you followed the snark up with a playful eye roll and returned her gaze. “Well, since I’m here, let’s see what you’re going to put on my body forever.” 

Her already big brown eyes seemed to light up at your compliance, and she gently pulled on your forearms to uncross them with a blinding smile. She effortlessly initiated the intertwining of your hands, nearly dragging your shocked form to the ground with her fervor to show you what she had drawn. 

She got shy as you both approached her already prepped little work table, going quiet as you peered down at the paper and leaning into your body for comfort. The warmth that spread through your body at your still entwined hands creeped all the way up to your ears at what she had designed just for you: a little broken flower vase. 

When you two had first met as kids, Georgia, persistent to impress you with her football skills- had wrongly decided to do so inside your house. When this naturally ended in the broken heirloom, and your mother’s harsh scolding, you had taken the fall for the overexcitable girl. She had been inconsolable at the mess she had caused, promising to make up for it someday. To this day, she still felt guilty for the incident while you often brought it up, joking that she was only still by your side to repay her debt. 

Through all the growing pains and hard times, you had stuck by each other’s sides. Even when you got into fights, one of you would always bring up the vase as an olive branch, knowing that it really meant that you could never get rid of one another. 

Your eyes got misty, your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the hustle and bustle around you two, “Georgia, that’s so sweet- you sap.”

“You really like it? Don’t lie.” Her hand nervously fiddled with the rings that adorned yours, both of you refusing to meet each other’s eyes. In a moment of bravery, you pecked her on the cheek and rested your head on her slightly taller shoulder. 

“I love it. Can’t wait to have it on me forever.” You punctuated the genuine words with a squeeze to your intertwined hands, hoping to calm her nerves with the action. 

She stumbled a bit over her sentence, before forcing it out nearly too fast for you to catch it, “There’s three flowers on one side and then one on the other. Y’know like 31, like my number at Bayern.”

Your head jumped off your shoulder, gaping at her as she was locked in a staring contest with the table- cheeks red like she had just played a full 90. With your heartbeat nearly breaking at the confines of your ribcage, you decided to lean into the moment, tripping over your words a bit but whispering. “That’s perfect. I like it even more now.”

At your reassurance, she shyly met your sincere gaze, struggling to keep a goofy smile subdued as you nodded at each other.

Your little bubble was broken when a crew member called for her presence, apologizing for interrupting as he dragged her over for an interview. You watched on with hearts in your eyes as she spoke to the camera, her sincere appreciation for the art shining through with every word and the sparkle in her eye. Caught up in watching her, you barely realized when they had wrapped up, rushing over to her side after missing your name being called a couple times.  

They perched you up on a stool for her to place the stencil on your calf, sighing in relief as it peeled off exactly as she wanted it. She gently held your hand to help you down, using it to guide you over to the table while instructing you to lay down comfortably.

When she actually starts dancing the needle over your skin and attempting to answer questions at the same time, she clearly struggles. Nearly every time she punctures your flesh, she can’t help but look to you for your reaction- scared to hurt you. You try not to laugh as her sentences trail off again and again as she continually locks eyes with you, knowing she’s going to make the editor’s job a nightmare. As she nears finishing, you try to shoot her encouraging smiles, wishing you could tell her how good she was doing if not for the mics that would pick it up. 

The tattoo takes quite long for how simple the design is, partly due to her insistence on doing everything right, stopping for the littlest things. It’s sweet that she’s so adamant to not hurt you or have the ink blow out, but it’s pretty comical and clear that the camera crew is getting antsy. You are happy to sit for as long as she needs, content with the heat of her palm through her gloves soothing the ache of the needle, but try to silently encourage her in order to get everyone out on time. 

As she takes the final swipe of a paper towel over your skin and declares that she’s finished with a shaky breath, the first thing she does is to once again look at you. She visibly relaxes as you send her a beaming smile, taking your hands to move you to sit upright. You admire her work as she turns to give you her water bottle, watching you like a hawk as you take a sip.

You get shy at her attention, “I’m not going to pass out you know, I’m literally covered in tattoos already.”

“You’re really feeling alright? We can take pictures after you have a second, yeah?” 

“Georgia really, you look much more lightheaded than me. You did great, I promise.” As you try to scoot off the bench, her hands stop you- pinning your thighs to the table. The position forces her to lean closer to you, putting you at eye level with one another. She has a certain determination in her eyes, but is clearly quite mortified at the proximity her actions have caused.

Still, with her big brown eyes boring into yours, slightly rough palms on your naked thighs, and the slight dizziness that you do feel- you look around the room to see everyone busy packing up before you do something drastic. As you turn back to her soft gaze, a slight tilt to her head and a quick glance at your lips is all the encouragement you need. 

Your hands cover hers, desperate for something to ground you as you lean in to peck her lips. At your slight movement, she excitedly surges forward and you clash much harder than you had expected. 

Pulling away, you’re both reduced to hysterics at the release of the tension that the day caused, and for finally giving in to a moment to had both waited for all your lives. Who knew it would take her marking you forever for you both to make a move.

a/n: wow so sorry I have not uploaded in forever! midterms absolutely kicked my butt and then I was celebrating my birthday! anyways I'm not super happy with this but I hope yall enjoyed <3

my requests are still open and i will really try to be much quicker in getting to them lol

#georgia stanway #georgia stanway x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #georgia stanway fluff #woso

[aliteralsemicolon]

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend. 

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only.  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.  TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk.  Word count: 8.6K | See notes at end for authors note & spoilers. 

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it. 

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you. 

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored. 

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue. 

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today. 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful. 

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra. 

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe. 

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state. 

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror. 

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought. 

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”,  you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little. 

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around. 

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had. 

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen. 

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?” 

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?” 

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.” 

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive. 

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone. 

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM. 

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything. 

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could. 

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him. 

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours. 

“Emily!” 

“Hey, how are you holding up?” 

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?” 

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue. 

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise. 

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself. 

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?” 

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that. 

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head! … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?” 

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place. 

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.” 

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off. 

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now. 

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?” 

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.” 

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out. 

“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?” 

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay. 

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon. 

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say. 

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided. 

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too. 

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?” 

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself. 

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern. 

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it. 

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?” 

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.” 

“Are you sure?” Emily asks. 

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason. 

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again. 

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?” 

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time. 

“I’m not.” You persist. 

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you. 

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-��� He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.” 

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.” 

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.” 

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her. 

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark. 

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush. 

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay. 

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back. 

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.” 

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back. 

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice. 

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy. 

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes. 

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.” 

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around. 

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.” 

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start. 

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events. 

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer. 

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling. 

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly. 

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears. 

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand. 

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing. 

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to. 

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times. 

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second. 

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.” 

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other. 

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #bau team #spencer reid fic

[kyhgwts]

Older!König x Fem!Reader

I love the idea of gentle and shy older!König but then he’s just an absolute beast in bed, like please? For my sanity?

Just imagine him being so quiet and put off to himself around everyone but you.

Walking around in the grocery store he’s trailing behind you as you push the cart, silently messing with your shirt nervously when someone comes up to you and makes small talk. He doesn’t dare make eye contact with them. It’s not that he is scared, god no, look at the man. But he just isn’t comfortable showing his real self to people who aren’t you. Maybe only your very close friends who come over a lot, but other than that? Absolutely no one.

He’s just so UGH like a big soft bear, silent and kept to himself but if anyone dares to mess with his territory (you) all hell will break loose.

He hates being out in public without you, because then you aren’t there to do all the talking. And he isn’t an asshole, so he has to respond back to people.

“Oh! Hi König!” He turns back to look at someone who he registered as a close friend of yours.

“Hallo” he smiles gingerly, he knew this friend of yours well enough they came over a lot, and he wasn’t shy by them.

“Where’s your attachment at?” They ask, smiling at their own joke. It almost makes him chuckle but that’s too far out of his comfort zone.

“Back at home, got sick” he would explain shortly, but not in a rude way because he respected this friend, they meant a lot to you.

“Well alright big guy, I’ll leave you alone. Tell her i said get well!” They said making their way for the end of the aisle, he just nodded.

How is he so big, but so gentle?!?! He’s so perfect :(

Like the perfect cocoon, laying in bed, you straddling his lap as you nuzzle your head into his chest and neck. His big arms holding you tight against him as he takes in your presence, the heat from your body, the weight of you making him feel secure, your hair wash smelling so good, as well as your perfume you always have on, he fucking loved it.

But oh if this man is in a mood? You have the time of your life.

“König! Please” you’d moan and cry, tear prickling from your eyes.

“Please what baby?” He’d ask all innocent, while he’s pounding into you, stuffing you so full you can’t even think clearly :(

He’d push down on your stomach, causing you to gasp at the familiar sensation.

“Yes! Yes yes yes yes” you’d sob, pushing down your hips trying to fuck yourself on him.

“My Süßes Mädchen“ he’d whisper, all while never giving you a break, pounding into you with his hand pressed hard into your stomach. (Sweet Girl)

The sound of skin against skin making him go feral, the wet sounds as he pounds into you making your cheeks go red, but he fucking loved it.

“Come on Kostbarkeit, let go for me baby” he groans, your tears streaming down your face in pure ecstasy. You loved this side of him, so masculine and beautiful. Taking care of you and that deep feelings in your stomach :( (Treasure)

Once you’ve came, and you’ve milked him for all he’s got he carefully lays himself on top of you. Making sure not to crush you. And loving on you like no other, head nuzzled into your neck as he kissed it, and hands roaming your body as he kept you close and your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck Mein Baby, i just can’t get enough of you” he’d whisper while his hands slide under your back, hands meeting up behind your head cradling it as pulls you closer.

You moan from the movement, his cock still deep inside of you.

You could stay like this forever, in his embrace, feeling so full and content.

You didn’t leave that bed for another few hours, as he made soft love to you, making sure you felt his love as he slowly rocked into you.

Life was perfect with your perfect boy around :(

#foryou #kyhgwts #smut is life #fluff #agegap #könig x reader #older!könig #older bf #könig call of duty #cod #könig smut #könig x you #konig headcanons #könig #i need him #i want this #please? #i need older König to make love to me

[loveluvrs]

not enough l max verstappen x reader

request/summary – Hi! Can I request for an angsty Max Verstappen x Reader where she is just a normal girl y’know not the “supermodel” type like the other WAGs and she also leads a normal life with a normal job, thus why she got so much hate from the media and the fangirls. Never quite fit in with the other WAGs either. At some point it’s all getting too much and she decided to break up with Max because she truly believes that she’s not meant for this life but then she saw Max stands up for her during a press conference?? I had this scenario in mind while listening to Gold Rush by Taylor Swift, if that also helps! Thank you <3

author's notes – HELLO??/ LANDO WIN??? IM SO PROUD OF HIM! do expect another fic coming out this weekend around lando's win. it will be self indulgent about reader missing the race 🤕 keep an eye out but enjoy this in the meantime and keep sending in requests!!

Max and I sat in our hotel room the night before the race weekend started. I was sat on the floor as I tried to help Max with unpacking his suitcase. I had, by some miracle, convinced my lovely (but not exactly fashionable) boyfriend to wear some non-Red Bull clothes for once to the paddock. He reluctantly agreed, since he knew I barely come to races with him due to my tight schedule, and this was the least he could do for me. 

“Okay, idea. How about, you wear the Miami GP button up…and then the black jeans I bought with you, the baggy ones, and then your usual shoes? Not too much out of your comfort zone, I hope?” I ask with excitement as I look back up towards him. 

“And what if I don’t like it?” He asks, clearly unsure of the whole idea. I nod understandingly. “Well, I mean, of course you don’t have to, Maxie. But I just thought it’d be fun. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I say softly as I try and search his face for any signs for the reason to his reluctance. 

I watched as his head dropped down to his lap. “And what if I look stupid in it?” He asks quietly. I immediately felt my heart melt. “Baby, why ever would you think that? You’ll look great in it, promise. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, we can try again some other time, okay?” I say softly as I interlock our hands to comfort him. He nodded. 

——

When we got to the paddock, I felt a little out of place, knowing all the other WAGs would be there. Max notices me fidgeting nervously with my fingers, and he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it before intertwining our fingers. During all the practice sessions, quali, and the race, I felt awfully like an outsider. All the other girls were supermodels, and very conventionally attractive. I felt like the stand out amongst them, and not in a good way. They all talked with each other earnestly about the newest dress shop they just found, and while they had no malicious intentions of leaving me out, it just didn’t work with my humor and their tastes. 

With a sigh, I go roam the paddock. Max finds me afterwards, a little confused. “Hey schatje, I thought you were with the other girlfriends?” He asks softly as his arm slings around my shoulders to bring me with him as he walks to the garage. I try and brush off the left out feeling I had from earlier and just shrug. “I was just getting a little bored, nothing much,” I say as I shoot him a quick smile. “You sure?” He asks with raised brows as he looks at me knowingly. I nod with a hum, giving him a kiss before I send him off to his meetings. 

After the race, Max flies to Monaco for the next race, and I fly back to the UK to my place as I didn’t have any more days off. I open my phone a few days after, scrolling on twitter as usual. I felt my heart sink a little as I see a tweet with all of the WAGs being spotted hanging out. I felt my stomach churn at the way their skin glowed, and their clothes hung off their figures so delicately yet so effortlessly. It was stupid to feel jealous of them, I knew it was. But it was also stupid of me to think I could ever have been a part of the same category they were. And unfortunately, the replies to the tweet all agreed. 

maxfan93739 – I wonder why max’s girl isn’t there? 

georgeschassis – why would she be there? she’s not even a model?

dutchlion – I don’t even think she’s talked to them before

landosbandage – yeah she’s not like the other gfs, she usually keeps to herself

I turned off my phone, unable to think straight. Max called me that night to let me know that he got his schedule cleared by some miracle and was gonna fly out to be with me in the morning, but I had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. I hadn’t ate the whole day, staying in my bed under the covers, burying myself from everything and everyone until my eyes closed from fatigue. 

I woke up the familiar sound of Max playing with my cat in the morning, a few laughs from him. I felt like I was going to throw up, so dizzy that I didn’t even question the fact that Max was at my place so suddenly. I opened up my phone to the usual tweets, and I couldn’t stop myself from searching up my name, seeing what people were saying about me. 

she’s so much fatter and shorter than the other gfs, don’t know why max is with her….. 

annoying people attract annoying people ig……. 

Max is a three time world champion, he shouldn’t be with an ugly girl whose using him for his money and fame……

we’ve never even seen her support him in public, she plays it off as being introverted and shy as if we don’t know what she’s doing. 

I slam my phone face down as I hear Max’s voice. “Schat? Hey, I didn’t know you were awake. I called you last night to tell you I was gonna fly in last minute, but I think you already fell asleep, right?” Max asks with no suspicion of what I was just doing. I nodded. “You want some breakfast, love? I ordered in some waffles from that place you love?” He asks excitedly. 

I stay silent for a moment, thinking of the tweets. “Uh, you know what? I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today,” I say with a nonchalant smile. His smile falters. “Baby, you need to have breakfast or else you’ll be hungry. It’s not healthy,” he says as his voice softens. “No no no, I know, Maxie. I just had a really heavy dinner last night. Like really heavy. If I need a snack before I’ll lunch I’ll take it, don’t worry,” I say to try and convince him. I hold my breath as he scans me, thinking about my answer, before finally nodding and accepting it. “You tell me if you need a snack, alright?” He says as he presses a kiss on my forehead. 

This kept going on for many days, me making excuses about my meals like me eating when he was working out, or having a snack earlier, or that I felt super full from the last meal. Finally, one morning Max confronts me. 

He walks up to me while I’m sitting on the couch, my cat in my lap as I’m petting it. “Schatje, we need to talk. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve barely been eating, my love, what’s going on?” He asks with concern lacing his voice as he sits down next to me. 

I stiffen slightly, my stomach knotting up as I think about what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you ask twitter?” I say coldly. I see him sigh immediately, pursing his lips. “You know twitter isn’t good to listen to. It’s all bullshit, love,” he says as he tries to reach his arm out to me. I pull away, letting my cat go as I stand up. 

“Max, this is exhausting. I cannot constantly feel like every part of me is ugly because of the other WAGs being so stupidly beautiful because they’re models. I cannot handle being in the spotlight and having every single mannerism of mine criticized, every fluctuation in weight pinpointed and spotlighted for the world to see. I can’t do….. this,” I say with a sigh. 

He takes a few minutes to process what I’ve just said. “You can’t do…. us? Is that what you’re saying?”

I gulp, my silence being enough of an answer for him. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t care that other girlfriends are models. I only care about you. Please, we can make this work,” he pleads softly. 

I shake my head. “I’ve been trying, Max. I’ve been trying to make it work this whole time. It’s just not happening. It’s too much for me. I need time away from it all.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he mutters with a voice of frustration.

I felt my eyes roll in frustration. “You just don’t get it! I wish so badly the I could just, not care the way you do, but unfortunately I care very very much about what they all say! And don’t you fucking dare blame this on me!” I snapped at him unintentionally, hurt that he’s blaming me right now when I very clearly needed him right now.

“I’m not trying to blame you! But why don’t you believe me? That I’ll protect you from it all like I have been doing! You don’t need to break up with me for this, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters out, his voice slightly raising now. 

I felt myself hold back tears in the back of my throat, not used to the angry tone my boyfriend was using, as I flinched at his tone. I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears with a shaky breath.

He takes a few seconds before he sighs, unable to change my mind. He clenches his jaw, slamming the door to our bedroom. By morning, all his stuff, including him, were gone from my place. 

Soon enough, the fans noticed. Noticed that I was no longer liking and commenting under Max’s posts, that I was no longer interrupting his streams, that Max didn’t talk about me much anymore. 

 A media reporter came up to Max during the race weekend for an interview. At the end, he asked, “It looks like you and your partner are not talking anymore, no?”

Max brushed it off casually in the way he always does about private matters to the media. “Uh, well, every relationship has its ups and down, you know? But that is something I prefer to keep private.”

“Well, better to be rid of her,” the reporter says jokingly. Max’s eyes suddenly shifted into a more serious tone. “No? She’s amazing and gorgeous and kind and intelligent. So no, it’s my loss, really. And either way,  you have no right to talk about any woman like that,” he says firmly before walking off. 

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[landwriter]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

#asks #the sandman #dead boy detectives #fic #crossover? fusion? i guess? who is to say! not me! #dreamling #perhaps some notes of chedwin #(a fabulous ship name btw. i may not get cob but i WILL get chedwin) #author wrote this while sick as dog so please excuse errors :') #might put on ao3 later if i have a chance to clean it up and expand on it a little! #my writing #me yesterday: 'i really don't see the appeal of blending both stories beyond doing it for the sake of it' #me today: 'no you don't understand they NEED each other here is my chart of the interpersonal dynamics and a list of all the ways hob can h #accidentally writing the new inn reunion scene i'd always dreamed of oops

[worldlxvlys]

one choice

part 6 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, cursing

a/n -> hope u like <33

read the previous part for context !!

MATT’S POV

when my eyes fluttered open, i was immediately met with a pillow that wasn’t mine. i knew this pillow though, and those sheets.

i had forgotten where i was momentarily, until i looked over and saw her. her eyes were closed, lips parted slightly while she slept peacefully.

she looked angelic, the soft rays of the sun seeming to make her glow. she moved around in her sleep last night, leaving her barely covered by her blanket.

i couldn’t help but let my eyes wander her body, taking in every feature. her smooth skin was littered with dark marks all over, and the blanket left little to the imagination. before i knew it, i was hard again.

it took everything in me to fight the urge i had to take care of it right there next to her. what would she think if she woke up to me jerking myself off to her sleeping form?

oh my god, what was gonna happen when she woke up? she would want to talk about what this meant for us, but i couldn’t handle that.

what if this was a one time thing? what if she wanted nothing to do with me after this ? did i fuck up our friendship? i had to get out of there.

i got up quickly and quietly, careful not to make any noise while i got dressed. when i was done, i pulled her blanket over her so she was fully covered. i looked around for a pen and paper to leave her a note, as i didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

ok, she has nothing to write a note with. i’ll just leave her a text.

well i could have done that, if i had realized i completely forgot my phone in her room before i left. i didn’t make this realization, however, until i had gotten back home.

so not only did she think i was the type of guy to fuck and dip, but i also couldn’t avoid the conversation that i was running from in the first place.

it’s not that i never wanted to talk about it, i just wasn’t ready for our friendship to change yet.

was running away the best way to handle the situation? definitely not, but i only had so much time to decide what to do before she woke up.

so basically, my overthinking ended up screwing me over. doesn’t it always ?

what was wrong with me? this was the girl who made me feel safe and loved, and now i couldn’t even talk to her. how did i manage to fuck up this badly?

one choice. one choice stemming from my fantasy-filled thoughts is all it took. and the decision i made last night led to more poorly made choices. choices that i wouldn’t have made had my brain not been corrupted by her.

her face, her smell, those perfect little moans that fell off her lips, she had a way of making me ignore every logical thought that my brain produced. i was so desperate to finally have her in the way i’d only dreamed about for years.

now if i didn’t fix this, i wouldn’t have her in any way.

———

READER’S POV

when i woke up, matt was gone. the spot where he had slept next to me was cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while.

for a second, i questioned whether last night was even real. had i really fallen so deep into my delusions that i started to believe them? i found the thought to be worrisome, but i tried not to dwell on it as i got up and made my way to the bathroom.

when i caught a glimpse of the hickeys decorating my skin i felt relief wash over me. i wasn’t going crazy. just as quickly as it came, the relief was replaced with a new feeling; embarrassment.

i seriously let myself think that he would want something more. hell, he marked me like he did. but he didn’t treat me like i was his best friend, he treated me like i was a one night stand.

maybe he had a valid reason for leaving. i tried to talk myself out of the rabbit hole of assumptions i was about to go down, and picked up my phone.

once a few hours had passed without him returning my texts or calls, i knew. he was done with me, he had to be. why else would he just leave without warning and ghost me?

i should’ve know this was going to happen, people always leave me in the end. it just never occurred to me that matt could be just like everyone else.

——

MATT’S POV

when i got to her house, i let myself in using the key she had given me. “y/n?” i called her name, not receiving an answer.

i pulled out the ice cream i had bought her on the way to her place, putting it in the freezer for her.

when i got to her room, she happened to be fresh out of the shower. she wore nothing but a towel, her eyes widening when she saw me.

“matt?” she asked before rushing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. the water droplets that coated her skin soaked into my t-shirt, but all i could focus on was the fact that she was in my arms.

i inhaled the scent of her fruity body wash, eyes falling shut as i rubbed her back soothingly.

she then pulled away, smacking me upside the head with her heavy hand. “don’t do that again matt, i thought i scared you off. i thought you hated me- i thought i lost my best friend”

i cupped her cheek gently, “i could never hate you, and i’m not going anywhere. i was just overwhelmed, but i shouldn’t have just left life that. i’m sorry, i was gonna leave a note, but then i couldn’t find anything to write with. and i was gonna text you but i left my phone here and-”

“matt, it’s ok. i’m just glad that you’re here now” she whispered. “but there’s nothing to be scared of, i mean- last night was just the heat of the moment, right? i mean, it had to be, why else would you leave like that” she whispered the last part to herself.

shit. this was the problem, i didn’t know what the night before was.

i didn’t know what i wanted, and i didn’t want to hurt her in the process of figuring it out. what i did know, was i wasn’t going to lose her because i got greedy. so, i decided i would figure it out later, but for now: “yeah, that’s all it was”

“so, we’re good?” she asked. “we’re good” i confirmed.

“good. then i’m gonna get dressed and then we can watch something?” she posed the last part of the sentence as a question.

“yeah, and i brought you ice cream” i told her, watching her face light up at the news. “wow, you thought you really messed up, huh?” she asked as she grabbed her clothes to change into.

“i did really mess up, but i won’t do anything like that again” i told her. she just smiled at that letting out a quick, “i know” before moving to go back into her bathroom.

“wait, you’re seriously going into another room to get changed? did you forget how we spent last night together?” i joked. admittedly, it was probably a little too soon to crack jokes like that.

“last night never happened” she spoke before closing the door.

shit, why did that sting a little?

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[gilbirda]

I'm just a simple guard, man

Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.

Danny.

The Ghost King.

Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”

He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.

“The fuck?”

“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“But—”

“How the heck—”

“ — how did he do that —”

“ — did he set him on fire!”

“ — and is he even human?”

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Again, he deserves it.”

Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”

“I told you—”

“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”

“I—”

“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”

The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.

“I’m taking you there.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.

“I can walk on my own.”

Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.

“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”

His tone was final.

Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.

***

Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.

Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.

They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.

Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.

“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.

The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”

“Doctor.” She corrected him.

The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.

“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”

“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”

Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.

“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”

Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.

And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.

He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.

Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.

Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”

He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.

For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.

“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”

“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”

“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.

The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.

He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.

“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”

Was he implying…?

Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”

“Hey there young—”

“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.

“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.

She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.

She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”

Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.

“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”

The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.

Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.

Bruce saw it too.

Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.

***

“Are you still mad?”

“Hm.”

“You sound like the old man.”

Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.

“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.

She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.

Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.

“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.

Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.

“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”

She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.

“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”

It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.

God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.

He prepared to kick her again..

“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”

Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?

“Hey.”

“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”

Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.

“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”

She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”

“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”

Jazz ignored him.

Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.

King of the Ghosts.

He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.

“Spit it out.”

“Huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”

“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”

“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”

A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why are you being so forthcoming?”

“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”

The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.

No. It was something deeper.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”

“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”

“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.

Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”

“But?”

He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.

“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.

“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”

“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.

Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.

“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”

“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”

Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.

“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”

Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”

Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”

“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”

Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.

Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”

Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.

“People died.”

Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”

Guilt. It was clear as day.

“Is not your—”

“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”

Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”

“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”

“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”

The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”

“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”

“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”

Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”

Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”

He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”

The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”

Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”

“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.

“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”

A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.

Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.

What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?

He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.

The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?

What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?

He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.

“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”

Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.

He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”

She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.

“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”

Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.

Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

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[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 5 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.8k c/w: sexual content, language, alcohol a/n: happy reading my lovelies!!

I snuggle further into Paige. We’d had a slow, lazy morning, complete with sleepy kisses and the most languid, indulgent head I’d ever received. It was now eleven in the morning, and despite already having had her head between my legs, Paige didn’t seem to want to do anything else but lay in bed.

 If I could wake up like this everyday, I would. I’m sprawled across her chest, my face turned up to press into her neck. She smells like she always does - fresh, clean, a hint of sweet vanilla. She blinks down at me, letting her lips spread into a slow grin, then leans down to kiss my forehead. 

I want to try again. I’d decided that much yesterday, perhaps against my better judgment. But it’s Paige, and when it’s her, my judgment flies out the window. I think back to her words from last night as her thumbs stroke over my bare side. How could it be wrong? How could this be a mistake? “It’s us,” she’d told me, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She’d said that to me once, too. That we were obvious. I hadn’t fully known what she’d meant then.

I understand it now, entangled in her in more ways than one, feeling that, even miles away from any place I’ve ever called home… that this must be it.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Mai?” Paige mumbles groggily. She laughs to herself, reaching up to push my hair out of my face. “Remember I used to call you Mai Tai?” I wrinkle my nose. “That shit is nasty,” I inform her. “Bro, you actually hate fun,” she complains, but it’s teasing. “The whole thing is just rum,” I mumble, burying my face further into her. “Can we get drunk together?” She wonders aloud. I frown into her skin. “Didn’t you get wasted enough last night?”

I feel her shrug, then shudder when I press a light kiss into her collarbone. “Yeah, but… I want you to come meet the girls. Or whatever.”

I tense. Ever so slightly. But she senses it, her hand immediately splaying across my back, a reassuring pressure.

Part of me thinks we should talk it out. Like, really talk it out - not just scream at each other in a parked car in the middle of the night. But the other part of me… the other part of me is thinking that I finally have her back. And it’s like I never even lost her. I don’t want to scare her off. I don’t want to fuck this up. 

I don’t want to lose her again.

“I’d like that,” I say, bating my breath.

She kisses the top of my hair. “You’ll drink with me?” She asks. I didn’t drink a whole lot in high school, so it makes sense why she’s asking me.

I shift in her arms, looking up at her. My thumb comes up to trace her chin, ghosting over her lips. I could get used to this - skin to skin, nothing between us. No distance. No history. Just love and desire and the sweet, sweet aftertaste of a night and morning well spent. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, Paige.”

Paige grins at that, her cheeks appling with the smile that envelops her face. “Oh, yeah?” She teases.

I roll my eyes, knowing where this is going, and I sit up, letting the covers fall off of me, and it’s like her eyes have been hyper-programmed to zoom into my bare chest. “Jesus Christ, dude,” she says in awe. I straddle her waist, pushing her head back slightly. “Something wrong?” I ask, cocking my head.

“Mm-mmm. Everything’s perfect, ma,” she rasps out, and it sends heat straight between my legs as her hands find my bare ass.

It’s criminal how perfect she looks in the morning. Her hair is mussed from where my hands gripped her head while she went down on me this morning, her lips plump and bitten from the lazy makeout session we’d engaged in after. Her chest and stomach are littered with purple marks I’d claimed her with last night, tits perky and perfect and just begging to be sucked.

“You talk to all the girls like that?” I ask off-handedly, but there’s not one part of me that wants to know the answer.

“What’s that, ma?” She reiterates slyly.

“I said, do you talk like this to all the other bitches you fuck?” I bite, and though I’m not trying to rile her up, I can’t help taking her tits in my hands, kneading them while I toy with her nipples. 

“Only the ones with asses like yours,” she tells me, her tone low and sultry, punctuating it with a squeeze.

I laugh at this, shaking my head at her.

“Or these tits, God,” she groans, hands coming up to cup my breasts. She kneads them slowly, coaxing small whimpers out of me as my hips buck of their own accord. Then her hand reaches up to lightly trace over my neck and I let out a small gasp. Her eyes flicker to mine. “Can I..?” I nod eagerly, and her fingers close around my neck, squeezing before trailing down. I let my head loll back. Her hand rests on my collarbones, splayed across them.

“Fucking… work of art,” she breathes, referring the the patchwork of marks she’s left across my neck and chest. It reminds me that she’s left a litany between my thighs, as well. Paige hesitates, then reaches one hand out to fumble for her phone. “You can say no,” she murmurs to me, but her eyes are blown so black when she looks at me that it hardly feels like an option.

I want her to have this. I want her to look at it when she’s in Connecticut and I’m in Michigan.

I want her to see it and remember that no one knows her like I do, that no one fucks her like I do.

I want her to get off to it, and I want it burned in the back of her eyelids the second she thinks about even touching another girl.

The steely determination of “mine, mine, all fucking mine” roars through my body as I move my hair to the side, exposing all the echoes of that same phrase she’s practically burned into my skin. 

“Do it,” I say, daring her.

I don’t know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe it’s the way Paige’s lips part when she raises her phone camera up. Maybe it’s the breathy moan she lets out when she shifts back to get a better angle. Maybe it’s the way the bright blue of her irises are flooded with dark, dark, desire. 

But I arch my back, pushing my tits forward. I bring my finger up to my mouth, biting it while winking slyly at the camera. “Fuck, Maya,” she groans, but I’m not done. I cover my tits with my hands, my palms just over my nipples, manicured fingers splayed out, and I throw my head back. Dumbfounded, Paige snaps more pictures, the click of the camera spurring me on. 

Then I take her hand, pulling her fingers towards my mouth. I engulf three of them between my lips, covering them in my spit, licking over her rings, then guiding her hand to cup my breast. Her breath hitches, and I hold her hand there, bringing my other hand up to match it.

“Paigey,” I croon. She’s practically drooling, her eyes hooded when she meets mine. “Take the picture.”

She obeys, her chest stilling as she holds her breath. I hear the click of her camera, before her eyes slide to mine. Then she tosses her phone to the side, tugging me to her harshly.

“You’re the girl of my fucking dreams, I hope you know that,” she mutters, kissing me ravenously, hands roaming my body possessively.

“Mmmm, what are you gonna do with those pictures?” I ask.

“What do you think?” She grins, gripping my ass harshly.

“Say it,” I pant, knowing full well what she’s going to do with those pictures. But I want to hear it - no, I need to hear the admission from her mouth.

“Gonna fuck myself to them.”

“Oh, yeah?” The thought of it, of her long fingers sliding between her legs, doing to her what I do to her… it’s fucking gluttonous. 

“Gonna get off to your perfect fucking tits, you like the sound of that?” She’s instigating, borderline begging me to slot my legs between hers and just ride her.

“You wanna show me how in the shower?” I ask suggestively, placing a kiss at her jaw and then peppering them down her neck. Paige draws back, eyes wide as she stares at me.

Then she practically shoves me off the bed, pushing me towards the bathroom.

*******

“I’m sorry.”

“I said it was fine, Paige.”

“Yeah, but the way you’re saying it doesn’t seem like it’s fine, dude.”

“How would you like me to say it, Paige? Huh? Please - tell me exactly how you would like me to say it, and I’ll do that. Okay?!” I know I’m being snippy at her, and she’s apologized a hundred times, but I’ve never missed one of her basketball games. Ever. At least not one as important as a state championship.

She knew that Michigan scouts would be at this one, and though I had already signed to dance for them, this would determine my placing on the squad my freshman year. It needed to be perfect.

I needed my rock.

So when I’d looked out in the audience, and I hadn’t seen her, I’d spiraled. The panic had settled over me, and I was lucky my autopilot kicked in on stage, because internally, I was freaking out. I just needed to see her. That was all I needed, to feel the calm of her presence wash over me, to know my person was in my corner when I needed her most.

“You’re being a bitch,” she snaps.

I glower at her. “I’m the bitch? Oh, I’m the bitch now?”

She steps to me, towering over me, her breath hitting my face. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“You could’ve told me beforehand,” I seethe. “You could’ve not made me feel like an idiot for- for searching for you in the crowd when you weren’t even fucking there!”

“Just like how you’ve made me feel like an idiot these past two months?!”

“Oh, don’t even fucking start-”

“No, I’m gonna start! I’m gonna fucking start, Maya, because you have no idea the kind of hell I was living in!”

“We’re done! We’ve been done for a week!”

“Two fucking months! I had to watch her kiss you and hold you and dance with you at my fucking high school prom! Did it ever occur to you, maybe even for a second, that maybe I wanted to do all that shit? That I wanted to buy your stupid fucking corsage and match our fucking outfits and make you a dumbass poster because I’m so fucking in love with you?!”

“You… what?” My room falls silent, echoes of the argument fading away.

I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe. “Paige,” I muster out. “What did you just say?”

She hesitates, eyes evading my own. “I love you,” she spits out. “Nothing I haven’t said before.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

“Fine! I’m in love with you, alright?”

I choke out a laugh, my voice still thick with tears. “You stupid idiot,” I smile affectionately. 

“The worst thing she can say is no, they said,” she mutters to herself, still avoiding my gaze.

I shake my head, opening my arms. “Come here,” I sigh, and she stalks over reluctantly.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in her scent. “Are you deadass not saying it back?” She demands, and I laugh.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

*******

“You look so beautiful in my clothes,” Paige mumbles, looping her arms around my waist and placing her chin on my shoulder as I finish touching up my makeup. “You’re such a kiss-ass,” I mutter fondly. “You liiiiike it,” she sing songs into my ear. I elbow her sharply in the stomach, and she lets out a dramatic “oomph!”. “Go get ready,” I tell her, and she frowns at me in the mirror.

“My girl so mean to me,” she complains under her breath. I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters at that phrase. My girl. 

I guess I am. Her girl, that is. I hardly think I ever really stopped. 

Paige reappears in a white crop top and loose black jeans, sunglasses perched atop her head. I let out a low whistle at her in the mirror. She smirks at me. “You see something you like?” I nod, grinning mischievously. “Those glasses are sick. Can I have them?”

She scoffs at this and I edge past her out of the bathroom. “You’re such an asshole,” she complains. “That’s not what you were saying last night!” I yell back at her, digging through her closet. I pick out a stretchy, body-con black dress - one of the few really girly things Paige owns, and emerge with it in hand. 

I quickly change, pretending not to notice the heat of her eyes on me. “Stop staring, you perv,” I toss over my shoulder, slipping the dress on. “You are not all that,” she shoots back, but I know her better. I stand up straight, smoothing down the dress, and take a look in the mirror. Eh. It’ll suffice.

“Not all that?” I muse, turning to Paige. Her arms are crossed stubbornly, but her eyes trail over my body. “Delete those pictures, then.” She rolls her eyes. “Get in the damn car,” she snaps playfully, exiting her room.

Paige drives us back to Azzi’s house, blasting some absurd amalgamation of Polo G and Rod Wave. I fight her for aux, comfortably folding my feet up into the seat. It takes me back to driving back from Drew and Matt’s rec games, or late night runs to Sonic for milkshakes back in Minnesota. “You needa go home after this, or..?” I twist my mouth. “Yeah, probably,” I sigh. Her hand lands on my knee, a securing weight that flushes me with warmth. “Your mom worried?” She wonders.

“You know her,” I mumble. Surprisingly enough, once I’d told my mom I was with Paige, she seemed okay with me having been gone for almost a full 48 hours. I open my mouth, then close it, hesitating. “You can stay at mine?” I suggest. She smiles at me, her face lighting up when her eyes flit from the road to me. “Really? You’re deadass?” I suck my teeth, nodding, then point an accusing finger at her. “Don’t make this a thing.” 

“I’m not making it a thing!” She protests.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I can see it in your face. You’re making it a thing,” I grumble.

Paige sighs, moving her hand to lace her fingers with mine as we slow to a stop at a red light. She presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, deliberately holding my gaze, before pressing on the gas pedal again. 

“Only thing I’m tryna make a thing is us, ma,” she intones, her gaze straight ahead, but a triumphant little smirk ghosting at her lips. I groan, detangling our fingers and throwing her hand back to her side of the car. “Oh, my God!”

“What? That was smooth!” She laughs.

“That was so fucking corny!” I complain.

“You know, what I didn’t miss is this attitude,” she tells me, shooting me a look as she pulls into Azzi’s neighborhood. I stick my tongue out at her, and she gives me a shove. 

It’s… domestic in a sense - this rhythm between us. The banter, the touches - they feel like a choreographed dance. Because there’s still no one who knows me better than her. No one knows every part of me like she does. I stare at her as she unbuckles her seatbelt, biceps tensing. 

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. She glances at me, brows furrowed. “What? It’s chill, bro, I was playing.” I smack her shoulder lightly. “Not for that,” I hiss. “For… For putting you through that. Back in high school. You deserved better. I’ve been… blaming you all this time for giving up on us.”

She’s quiet, floundering for words, so I push on. “I’m the one who started our relationship like that. I shouldn’t have… placed all those expectations on you. And… and our first time being while I was with another girl - fuck, Paige, I didn’t even give us a fighting chance. I’m sorry,” I choke the last word out, suddenly emotional at the fact that the past day could have been the past few years. 

“Hey, hey…” Paige says reassuringly. “Mai, it’s not your fault. Hey, look at me.”

Her hand cups my face, thumb brushing at my lower lash line. “We both fucked up. It’s not all on you.” I shake my head, sighing dejectedly.

“We were kids, dude. We were stupid and immature and we fucked up - I fucked up. I let you walk away, and I’ve regretted it every fucking day since. But this is… it’s forever. You have to know that.”

“Mai.”

I look at her, finally, and nod shakily. “Yeah. I do.”

She smiles softly, kissing my cheek. “Good. Let’s go inside, yeah?” And the second her hand slips into mine, my worries and insecurities fade into nothing.

Azzi’s house is raucous, Paige’s teammates’ laughter echoing off the walls over the loud music blaring in the background. There’s bottles upon bottles of every type of alcohol imaginable lined on Azzi’s counters. She hugs me tight when she sees me, smelling soft and sweet. “It’s good to see you again,” she tells me, smiling at me. I grin back at her. “You, too.”

Paige slings an arm around my shoulders. “Get my girl a drink,” she tells her teammate. Azzi rolls her eyes. “What do you want?” She asks me kindly. I loop an arm around Paige’s torso. “The exact opposite of whatever she’s having, please,” I reply, crinkling my nose. Azzi laughs when Paige looks at me and feigns offense. “I knew I liked you.” 

A few hours into the ordeal, Paige is impressed with how much I drink, and I laugh at her shock. “You forget that my school is actually good at football. This is a full-time job, baby!” I hoot, about three drinks in. Ice tilts a bottle of tequila in my direction, and I whoop, grabbing for the salt on the counter and a lime. “Fill me up!” I cheer. I feel loose and free around Paige’s friends, and even more comfortable when Paige’s hand snakes around my waist. She presses a sloppy kiss to my shoulder, and I laugh happily, patting her cheek.

“Shot, P! Come on, come on! You have to catch up!” I gesture for Ice to pour Paige one, too. She obliges. I dust salt onto the backs of our hands. Then I get it done in one fell swoop: lick off the salt, grab a lime wedge, and shoot back the tequila. I cough as it burns down my throat, sucking quickly on the lime. Paige gags behind me, gesturing for a wedge that I shove into her mouth, giggling.

I watch as her face puckers at the sudden tartness, lithe fingers pulling it from her mouth. She tips her head back, and I take the time to take in the sharp angle of her jawline. Her head lolls back down, eyes seeking and meeting mine. Suddenly, it’s just the two of us in the room, the chatter and din fading into the background.

“Hi,” I say softly. She smiles down at me. “Hey,” she replies. 

Ice coughs. “Y’all gonna fuck, or..?”

Paige splutters at her teammate, and I laugh good-naturedly, patting her arm reassuringly.

We all pile into Ayanna and Aubrey’s cars, heading to a club in Virginia Beach for the night. The strobe lights are piercing, but Paige’s hand at my waist is steadying. It’s all too good to be true - the fact that I even get to be this close to her again, the feeling of her body against mine, her hands all over me, her lips against my ear. 

I wonder, for a moment, how the hell I made it three years without this, because now that I’ve tasted it, now that I’ve had her… I can’t imagine not having her.

Being with her is like going a hundred miles an hour down a highway at midnight, standing up through the sunroof, feeling the cold wind biting at your skin and staring at the stars, thanking God that you get to be alive at the same time as something so goddamn beautiful.

And you’re so delirious and happy and you’re going so fucking fast… you don’t even see the crash coming. 

I sure don’t.

I’m drunk, falling against Paige, and she’s laughing, steadying me. “You good, ma? Can I get you some water?” She yells into my ear. I loop my arms around her neck. “My girl is sooooo good to me,” I slur, smiling stupidly. She matches my goofy expression. “Say that again!” She calls.

I laugh, throwing my head back happily. “My girl!” I yell gleefully, and Paige presses me to her. Her lips find my ear again, and she says, “Come on. Time for water.” Then she places the sweetest kiss on my temple, and my heart just about bursts. I let her guide me to the bar, slumping onto a bar stool while she goes off to hunt for water.

I focus on the spinning lights above me, watching them change colors. I’m so drunk and distracted that I must watch them spin for ten minutes. Maybe an hour? Fuck, maybe I’ve been here all night. 

Shit, I think dizzily. Paige must be worried.

I should find her.

I stumble through the bar, my legs wobbling. My head pounds from the music and the alcohol, and I’m so drunk that I really think I must be imagining what I see next.

It’s Paige.

There’s some girl with her. I think for a moment that she’s far too short to be any of Paige’s teammates, and that none of them are redheads.

Then the girl places a hand on Paige’s chest. I’m frozen in place, watching it all unfold, feeling my heart clench and then shatter to fucking smithereens as the girl stands on her tiptoes.

And she kisses her.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #fic #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk #paige bueckers smut

[rikigai]

make up — nishimura riki

pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader

genre(s): angst, suggestive

content/warnings: cursing, fights, toxicity, misogyny (riki calls reader a bitch), making out, hickeys, reader is on riki’s lap at one point

word count: 1.3k

author's note: this has been rotting in my drafts unfinished but i finally got the motivation to finish it so here u go hshshsh. pleasee tell me if i’ve missed any warnings. hope u guys like it (not proofread as always)

you sunk into the mattress that was positioned right be the window, wiping your tears off your face w the cotton sleeves that covered your hands. you had finally stopped crying after getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, riki. 

he walked out of the door not too long ago as you found yourself alone in his room. you huddle up into a ball, hugging your legs as you fell onto the bed sideways. you think of the words that had come out of riki’s mouth. you think of the things you’ve done to deserve all these bullets being shot at you, and by that, you meant the words that riki’s mouth had let go. 

were you not enough? did you not deserve his love? did you not deserve him at all?

every time you’d come around lately, things would just end in a mess. you two fight so frequently, people would think you had eventually gotten used to it, but no. every fight still hurt as much as the last one and the one before that, as well as the one before the one before that. sometimes you wonder if things would work out in the end because somehow it felt as if you two would just make up for the reason of getting it over with. nothing would change after the fight, which was clearly the problem. riki would act the same way, you too. 

you lay there, staying still on the bed, hearing the clock tick and how loud the silence had gotten ever since riki had left the room. you get up on your feet and walk towards the door. ‘i think it’s best if i just left. everything is pointless’ you thought to yourself, turning the door knob over and opening the door. 

the lights in the living room were dimmed down, with only the tv on. riki sat on the couch with his eyes buried into the palms of his hand, elbows rested onto his knees. his head turned to the direction of the doorframe which revealed your silhouette, slowly making it’s way to the main door, past the kitchen. he quickly stood up and turned to the area you were headed, seeing that you were leaving. 

“where the fuck do you think you’re going?” riki said with a disgruntled, low voice. you stopped walking but didn’t answer. you could feel the tears forming in your eyes that painfully stung. you continued to walk, ignoring the fact that your ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t pleased to see you leaving, or the fact that he had asked you a question. 

riki asked again. “where the FUCK do you think you’re GOING?” you blinked, making the tears stream down your face. you turned towards him, seeing his tall frame standing there. “i’m talking to you, bitch. answer m-“ he said, looking into your direction. you cut him off, finally bursting out w frustration “CAN’T YOU SEE?? I’M FUCKING LEAVING.” “YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT? CAN YOU?” riki snapped back at you, approaching you slowly. “I THOUGHT YOU DIDN’T WANT ME HERE? DID YOU JUST INVITE ME TO ARGUE? C’MON THIS BULLSHIT YOU PULL HAPPENS EVERY TIME I COME OVE-“ you said in anger. “ME? SO I COME UP WITH WHATEVER MESS THIS IS? THIS SHIT ONLY HAPPENS WHEN YOU’RE AROUND.” he responded, now standing right in front of you. you looked up at him to see the tears that had flooded his eyes, and he saw how much you were crying too. “listen, riki. i don’t think i can do this anymore” you say with a shaky voice as you wiped your face with the sleeves drenched in tears once again. 

“i don’t think i’m the girl you’re looking for. unless the girl you’re looking for is someone you’d want to fight with every single fucking time. this isn’t gonna work out.” you added, looking straight at his eyes. he couldn’t do anything but to stare right back at you. what has he done? what kind of thoughts and words had slipped out of his mind for it to have turned out like this?

“and whatever *this* is, is something i don’t want, okay.” you said, breaking the painful truth to riki. “wh-what do you mean?” he asked as his eyes grew with the feeling of confusion, fear, and worry rushing through his veins. “come over, fight, make up, that’s everyday. i don’t need to say anything more, basically sums it up for you.” you reply, slowly backing up as you plan on walking out any second now. 

the two of you stand there in silence when you decide to finally exit. you turn and start walking towards the main door when you feel a tug coming from behind, stopping you from walking any further. “no. please. you can’t leave. it’s just-“ riki says softly. “it’s just what? is it just that i’m not enough for you? is it just that i’m not someone worth your while? spit it out, nishimura. tell me.” you say, facing him again. “no, YOU tell ME. what is it you want? because somehow-“ he says before you butt in. “i want somebody who doesn’t fucking argue with everything i say, firstly?? and somebody who LOVES me. yea. keyword is love, if that was hard for you to understand” you reply, ending in a sarcastic tone. “then i can be that body, y/n” he says, drawing his face and body closer to yours, placing his hand on your waist.

"if you want love, we gon' make it" he says before pulling you in. your lips meet with his as riki caresses your cheek. the kiss had grew heated. you could feel his anger, disheartenment, and worry through the kiss he had started. your hands found its way onto his broad shoulders as the two of you back up into the living room, not breaking the kiss. riki collapses onto the sofa with you on top of him. you quickly take your thick sweater off, revealing the tiny tank top you had sitting underneath. the feeling of riki’s arms on your bare skin sent shivers down your spine. you two were obviously mad about what had happened earlier, but you both also couldn’t resist each other’s touch.

riki let go off the kiss and started to leave kisses on you everywhere.

“i’m” a peck on the cheek

“so” a kiss on the neck

“sorry, y/n” he says before sucking onto the sensitive skin right above your collarbone. his lips pulled away from you. his eyes lingered upon the mark he had left on you.

the resentment in the atmosphere remained there as you responded “i fucking hate you, ri-“ before he cut you off, smashing his lips back onto yours. you craved the feeling of his skin, his lips, his hands all over you. grabbing one of his hands that rested on his stomach as he kissed you, you grab it, setting it on your hips. riki gripped onto your hips, moving you further up his lap. he breaks the kiss to look into your eyes as he said “if you fucking hate me, then how could you want me this bad? huh?” staring you up and down, seeing how much of a mess you were for him. you let out a whine as you had gotten impatient. “p-please, riki” you say, planting hickeys along his jaw and down along his neck with your hands resting on his toned. it drove him insane. you sucked on his soft skin with the thoughts of the fight earlier swirling around in your head. groans escaped his lips as his grip on you tightened.

“holy shit, y/n. we’re supposed to be talking this out-“

“fuck it. we can kiss it out instead.”

#rikigai #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enhypen smut #enhypen suggestive #enhypen fanfiction #enha imagines #ni ki #nishimura riki #niki #riki #niki angst #niki fluff #niki suggestive #niki smut

[ktgoodmorning]

Hold still

Misa Rodriguez x reader

You help Misa in getting ready for a big event

Masterlist

“What if I just tell them I’m sick or something so we don’t have to go?”

“Misa, you’re not getting out of this. There’s no way I’m going to this wedding alone, just because you can’t decide what to wear.” 

Your girlfriend threw her head back with a groan, “But why’s it have to be outside? It’s gonna be way too hot to wear a suit but a dress feels like so much work.” you shook your head at her whining, amused at how easily your tough-as-nails girlfriend met her match, just at the thought of getting all dressed up. 

“I’ll help you get ready if you want. I’ll do your hair and makeup and everything. It could be fun! You could wear that red jumpsuit that I love so much.” The glint in your eye seemed to get her attention, turning her frown into more of a smirk, as she was suddenly much more willing to cooperate. 

“You know it would probably look good with those black heels that I know drive you crazy too.” 

“Well I guess we won’t know for sure until you decide to start getting ready, si?” you turned back to the mirror where you were finishing your own makeup, making sure you had plenty of time to get her ready as well. This was a common occurrence, having to reason with her to get dressed up for the events that called for it, as she much preferred her joggers and t-shirts. From the other room, you could hear her moving around, finally deciding to give in to you, something she seldom did for anyone else. 

As soon as you finished putting the finishing touches on your own face, you stepped out into your bedroom to see Misa finding her jumpsuit and shoes she was looking for. 

“Mis, I’m done with my makeup if you want me to do yours?”

“Si, I’ll be right in.” As much as your girlfriend despised the idea of caking her face full of products, she absolutely loved it when you would offer to do it for her. It always meant spending time with her sitting on the bathroom counter with you standing between her legs, as close to her face as possible while you concentrated on what you were doing. She would always jump at the opportunity to have you so close to her, close enough that she could feel your breath against her face. 

When Misa joined you, she was immediately put off by the sheer amount of makeup products littering the counter. Most were left from your work on your own face that you hadn’t gotten to putting away but you still saw the way she immediately tensed up upon seeing them. 

“Not too much, right amor?” 

“Right, Mis.” You pulled her into you by her hips so you could talk face to face. “I’ve done this before, remember? And I haven’t messed it up so far.” The taller woman relaxed against you, and left some short pecks on your lips as a sign that she trusted you. “Now come sit!”

You cleared a small area on the counter for her to sit while you worked that allowed you to stand between her legs after she hopped up. For a minute you just stood there with your hands cradling her face, admiring your girlfriend’s features. You noticed how a slight blush rose to her face, the longer you stared at her, but it didn’t stop you until she pushed you away, giggling nervously.

 “God, you’re the only one who can always make me blush, so damn much.” Nobody but you got to see her so soft and giddy, so unlike how she was with everyone else. It made you feel honored, in a way, that you got to see that side of her that so rarely came out. You gave her another kiss to bring her back to you before stepping back to grab the products you wanted. 

Starting with some light concealer and foundation, you pat your beauty blender all over her face, trying to get in every crease and corner. Her reactions made you giggle. The usually stone-faced, world class goalie, would flinch every time you got anywhere near her eyes and scrunch up her nose if you went too hard, making it hard for you to take her seriously. “Amor, you have to hold still if you want it to turn out okay.”

“You’re gonna poke my eye out, though!” Her whining was back as she instantly transformed into a total child right before your eyes. 

“Only if you keep moving so much!” Misa pushed you away slightly as you laughed at her. “It’s just a sponge, and I’m not even near your eyes yet. Just please try to hold still for me, okay?”

“Fine.” she grumbled in annoyance as you both settled back into play to continue, starting in on a subtle contour. 

One of the hottest things about Misa was the way her face and jaw were so defined so you knew that the slightest contour would be just enough to drive you absolutely insane. The further you went on her makeup, the more you knew you’d have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself tonight. Between the unusually feminine look for her, having her hair and makeup done, the red jumpsuit you already knew you loved, and the heels making her even taller, excited was an understatement. 

When it came time for you to work on her eyes, you knew you’d have a hard time, partially from how fidgety the woman in front of you was becoming, but partially because you kept being distracted by the way she was looking at you. Misa’s eyes bore into you, continuously checking you out, clearly appreciating the work you’d done on your own hair and makeup. 

“Misa, I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.” She gave you a cheeky shrug, knowing exactly what she was doing to you. 

You rolled your eyes and started on her eyeshadow, being careful not to do too much. As you worked on her eyes, you moved closer and closer to her face, trying to make sure it was perfect. You felt your girlfriend’s breath catch in her throat when you used one hand to grab her jaw and steady her, smirking at her reaction. The two of you both drove each other crazy, especially when you were dressed up and looking the way you currently were. 

“What, do you like my hands on you or something?” 

“I’d like it better around my neck, mi amor.” her voice was a low growl, only working to further your attraction to her. 

“Maybe later tonight, but you’re still not getting out of this wedding, no matter how much you work me up.” 

“But what if I give you kisses?” she leaned forward into you, in hopes of capturing your lips but you only moved further away. 

“You can give me all the kisses you want, Mis, but we’re still going. And if you mess up your makeup doing so, I’m not gonna be happy.” 

“Babyyyy.” 

“You’ll live, I know you’ve had worse. Just sit still for a minute so I can finish, I’m almost done.” The taller woman grumbled to herself in Spanish but still decided to comply, just as she always did with you, allowing you to finish. 

“All I have left is your lipstick, do you want to pick the color or do you want me to?”

“Hmm well you should pick something that will go well with yours probably,” she shot you a wink while the smirk returned to her face once again, only causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I’ll just give you the same as mine so I can throw it in my bag and fix it when you undoubtedly mess it up later.” 

“Hey, how do you know I-”

“Mis, quit talking so I can apply it.” The second you changed your focus to her lips, your girlfriend had an even harder time holding still. She tried to hold in a smile which only made your job harder. “I need you to hold still if you don’t want to end up looking like a mess, Misa.”

“I’m trying, but your concentrated face is so cute!”

“Misa!”

“No, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’ll stop. I just love how serious you take this.”

You didn’t respond to her but smiled to yourself, allowing you to finally finish her makeup, growing slightly nervous for her reaction.“Your face is all done. What do you think?” 

Misa hopped down from the counter and turned to the mirror, taking in your work. “It’s perfect, mi amor. You do such a good job.” Her arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into her, forcing you to look up at the taller woman and leave a light kiss on her jawline. “Gracias, amor.” Your only response was a smile as she leaned down for a soft kiss, being careful not to mess up your makeup. 

“Do you want me to do your hair quick? I could just put it in a nice ponytail, maybe straighten it quick? It doesn’t have to be much.”

She gave you another nod and turned for you to start doing her hair, something you knew would be quick and easy. Her dark hair was naturally pretty straight so it was more a matter of brushing it back so the ponytail was smooth and straightening out any rogue pieces. 

When you finished her hair, you both got dressed and ready to go, helping zip each other's dresses and clasp each other's necklaces. As soon as you were ready, you turned to face Misa whose face was frozen in awe. 

“Mi amor, you look… breathtaking. You are so perfect I can’t even believe it.” Her hands were on you instantly to pull you into her while her eyes continued to roam your body. “How did I ever get so lucky?” 

“Mmm, I could say the same about you, Mis. Look at you. These heels, and this jumpsuit. Damn.” You had to go on your toes to reach her for a kiss, something you were more than happy to do at the moment. “You’re still not getting out of this wedding, but maybe we don’t have to stay too late.”

“I like that idea,” she mumbled against your lips before continuing the kiss. All you knew was it was a good thing you had your lipstick in your purse, because it was going to need lots of fixing if you ever made it out of the house.

Requests are always open! Feedback is more than welcome! Hope you enjoyed it! I'm always down to chat!

Masterlist

#misa rodriguez #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez imagine #woso #woso imagines #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt #espwnt x reader #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmisa #futfem #sefutbol fem

[miley1442111]

Hi sorry to bother you but can you make a spencer reid x reader with the mute!reader and he helping her with everything.

Thank you so much sorry to bother you.

this is so cute! I did some research but I am nowhere near well-versed enough to know everything so please someone tell me if i've made a mistake !!!

mutism- s.reid

a/n: intended for fem reader, but as always imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: how you and spencer met, the first time spencer heard you speak, and a look into your life together :)

pairing: spencer reid x mute! reader

warnings: none

You were mute. You knew sign language and could talk to specific people on very specific occasions. You’d had it since you were diagnosed at 4 years old and it truthfully wasn’t the end of the world, but it did suck to not have had a date at the age of 22. Not that you weren’t beautiful, not that people hadn’t tried, you just… didn’t speak. 

But, CalTech was amazing, you were a biology student and you loved it. You could just lock in, ignoring the world around you and spend time in the lab for hours on end. Though, you couldn’t exactly investigate the growth rate of organisms in a crowded college bar. 

“I’m getting another drink!” Your very drunk friend shouted over the voices in the bar. You nodded your head, staring down at your half-empty drink as you sighed. You wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t here, at this stupid bar. Your friend, Maria, was a party-animal. You two had been dorm mates for the last 3 years and she had started learning sign language from the first week. She’d brought you into her friend group, allowing you a group of about 7 girls who all had your back. 

Well, they usually had your back, just not while they were all drunk and hooking up with their partners in the bathrooms or in their dorms, which is what all of them were doing right now. 

A tall and lanky boy sat beside you on your left and your body went rigid, silently begging him to not try and talk to you. 

“Spencer, come on!” One of his rowdy friends shouted. Spencer. Spencer was very cute. He had long-enough hair, brown trousers with a tie and shirt on. He looked far too overdressed for a simple college bar and you smiled. 

He was more than cute, he was gorgeous. You were shocked you’d never seen him modelling.

“No, I’m tired,” he laughed at his friend. “Go dance without me!” His friend gave up, walking off to a group of equally lanky and nerdy boys, all attempting to dance. 

Another man sat on your right, the seat where Maria had sat and you were instantly filled with anxiety again. Maria was nowhere to be seen and there were two men beside you, either of them could easily start trying to talk to you and what would you do? Just write it down on a napkin? On your phone? 

You hadn’t had this problem in a very long time. 

“So, you come here often?” The guy on your right asked, a soft smile on his face. He seemed to be the typical frat boy, kind of asshole-y but nicer than others you’d met. You tried to ignore him, pulling out your phone and texting Maria, saying you were going home instead of staying out longer, but he persisted. “What’s your name?”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spencer had been attempting to make conversation with you all year. He knew you were the smartest in your class, since he and your professor were friends and he often read over your papers. He thought you had the most beautiful mind, he didn’t even care what you looked like, he just wanted to know you. 

But, he had found out what you looked like from your photo online and he fell harder. You were gorgeous, smart, and interesting. He also knew you were mute. Back in your first year at college most people had just assumed that you were rude or too prideful to speak to certain people, and that you were getting special treatment from teachers by them letting you not present your projects. This meant your facilitators had to make an announcement to most of your classes, explaining why you didn’t speak. He saw your face one day as your professor explained to the class that you were mute, you looked so embarrassed and ashamed and he felt his heartbreak. He'd been embarrassed of his intelligence his whole life (but trust me, he knew that these were VERY different things) and he felt an uncertain connection to you. 

“She’s my girlfriend,” he tried to sound intimidating to the guy but he knew he wasn’t exactly a beefy 6 '2 frat boy.

The frat boy got the message. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You felt sick, Spencer was speaking for you and all of it could’ve gone to shit if that frat boy hadn’t gotten the hint. You quickly got up, looked at Spencer and signed ‘thank you’ and practically ran through the door, just wanting to get back to your dorm, 

“Umm, wait!” Spencer followed you out to the car park and you turned to face him, feeling hot under his gaze despite the cold, dark night around you both. “I’m S-Spencer, sorry if that was really weird but I wanted him to l-leave you alone, I-I know who you are a-and… yeah.”

He knew who you were? You looked at him confused. 

“Professor Monk! I help with his corrections sometimes, I’ve read your papers, they’re really good,” he smiled. “C-can I get your number or something?” Something like panic flashed over his features, clearly shocked at his own words. 

You took out your phone and wrote out “I seriously doubt I’d be much fun, I don’t talk,” you showed it to him, and he chuckled. 

“I know sign language,” He smiled and your heart swelled. You didn’t know it now, but on your wedding day, he would admit that it was a very big lie. 

You held out your hand for his phone and he handed it over, you punched in your number and that was the start of your beautiful love story. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Through your life together, Spencer was always there for you, there to calm you down, speak for you, be there for you, and to love you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first night he heard you speak was a year and half into your relationship, it was purely accidental on your part, genuinely comfortable enough to just speak and you did. 

“You’re so funny,” you quietly said between his and your own laughter. His own smile grew, while your face heated. 

“You spoke,” he observed, holding you from behind, his taller figure engulfing yours. “You have a nice voice.”

You whispered a meek “thank you” and he could’ve sworn that his heart grew three sizes. He didn’t want to push you, he just kissed you on the cheek and continued on with his cooking while he internally freaked out. Despite being together so long, you still found ways to fluster and surprise him. The majority of the time, he spent feeling like a schoolboy with how smitten he was with you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, you knew Spencer would always have your back, always love you, and always care.

He promised you so on your wedding day.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, obx+)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds spencer reid

[mrsmarinara]

So excited for the summer series! The prompts you chose were perfect! It was impossible to just pick one! May I please request 5 with Jack?

Hazy Clarity || Jack Hughes x reader

Prompt: 5. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

WC: 2.1k

A/N: I really am trying to get through these requests. Promise. Anyways I hope you like this.

Warnings: drug use (for medical reasons)

Summary: You thought you knew what you were getting into when you volunteered to take care of Jack after his surgery.

When you volunteered to be with and take care of Jack after his surgery you thought you knew what you were getting yourself into. Dating Jack for a year and knowing him for a year beforehand meant that you had seen him injured before and that usually, you would skip going to your apartment in favor of spending your time in his to make sure he was okay. Perhaps being there after Jack had his surgery was more so to calm your anxious mind but even though he wasn’t completely awake and coherent, he still seemed to appreciate the company.

Antsy. That was the best way to describe Jack. Since you met him it seemed like he always had to be doing something, even if it was just sitting down, if he wasn’t talking he would bounce his leg or constantly tap his fingers. It was like watching a child try and contain a sugar rush. So it was a little off-putting to watch as Jack sat on your couch, still as could be. He had several pillows cushioning his arm as he dozed quietly.

Quietly, so you wouldn’t wake him up, you grabbed the thickest throw blanket you had and covered Jack with it. He barely stirred as you tucked the blanket loosely around him. You stifled a giggle as you watched him twitch his nose at your actions before going still again.

When it was clear that he wasn’t waking up anytime soon you checked your phone only to see several dozen messages from his teammates, friends, and family. They ranged from asking how Jack was feeling and if he was doing better to asking how you were managing. You replied to all of them, letting everyone know that Jack is doing fine and recovering well. When you got to Jack’s family you gave a little more detail, telling Ellen that there was no need to worry and that he’s mostly been asleep because of the pain medication. Luke had asked if he should come to visit after the season ends to help with everything but you reassured him that he would see Jack soon and that you had everything under control. You wished him luck on the few remaining games the Devils still had to play and made sure to let him know that you and Jack would be watching them.

Once you managed to respond to every text you plugged your phone into the charger in the living room and made your way into the kitchen to make something for dinner.

When he was awake, Jack proved to be rather ravenous. It didn’t surprise you at all, even when he was healthy and uninjured he could still eat you out of house and home. You didn’t want to test the limits of his medication and end up having him throw up the food you made later. So you finally landed on making the salmon you had just recently bought and tomato cucumber avocado salad.

Your apartment wasn’t all that big. If you poked your head out of the kitchen you could see directly into the living room. So halfway through cooking you heard it when Jack woke up. You didn’t immediately rush to him, choosing rather to stay in the kitchen and finish the meal you were making.

You were filled with anxiety since the moment he got injured. I’m fact, you felt rather positive that if you went back to the hospital waiting room, where you sat as he had surgery, you would see a hole in the floor that you caused from the nonstop pacing you did as you waited to hear from the surgeon. Even when Jack was finally allowed to come home you couldn’t stop your mind from racing. Was your apartment clean enough? Did you have enough space for him to get better? What if he tried to do something that only made his injury worse?

You weren’t a nurse or a doctor. You had no background in medicine so the task of taking care of your healing boyfriend was daunting, to say the least. What you did have, though, was two years of knowing Jack. You could read his mood and body language better than anybody else. You knew when he was hurt, stressed, or upset and you knew exactly what to do to help. At least most of the time.

So when you heard some light shuffling from the living room and a quiet cough you knew he was awake. When you heard the television being turned on and the soft noise from it you were only proven right.

It doesn’t take you long to finish cooking and once you’re done you make two plates and head back out to the living room. You smile at the sight that greets you. Jack added another pillow to prop up his arm and found another throw blanket the wrap around himself. He blinks a bit sluggishly from underneath the blankets but the soft smile that adorns his face when he sees you makes it feel like butterflies are fluttering around in your stomach.

You smile back at him and set the plate of food on the coffee table. When you sit down you immediately feel Jack's cheeks and forehead for any warmth. The doctors told you to keep an eye out for any signs of a fever in the first few days after his surgery. His cheeks were warm but nothing that should have you worrying. It was only the warmth of sleep that still clung to him and made his cheeks rosy red.

Before you could pull your hand away Jack nuzzled into your touch. His eyes slipped close again and a sigh left his mouth. You ignored the way your heart beat faster and pulled your hand back gently.

“Hey, pretty boy, how’re feeling?” You asked softly.

Jack quietly groaned before forcing his eyes back open. His eyes were still red and glossy from sleep and when he spoke his voice was husky and his talking slow. “Still in a lot of pain.”

You glanced at the clock you had hanging on your wall to see how much time had passed since the last time you gave him any pain medication.

“You can have more medicine if you eat,” you gestured to the plate you had brought out. Jack followed to where your fingers were pointing. “It’s not good to take medication on an empty stomach.”

Jack hummed in acknowledgment before trying to sit up to eat. You watched him as he winced in pain but he didn’t say anything so you decided it was best for you to not bring anything up.

Halfway through eating and watching a rerun of The Office that was playing Jack sighed and put his fork down.

“I love your cooking,” he said almost wistfully. You glanced down at his plate and saw that only half of it was eaten, which was better than yesterday when he refused to eat anything.

“I would say thank you but I know that you routinely eat cold leftover pizza,” you huffed out a small laugh. That didn’t mean that Jack didn’t know how to cook. He could make something to sustain somebody but you couldn’t count on both of your hands the amount of times you had gone over to his apartment and saw a fridge with no food and just Gatorade and beer.

“I’m pretty confident you're the best cook I know.” He said as he burrowed himself back into the couch and under the blankets.

When he winced again you didn’t hesitate to reach over to the end table and grab the bottle of medication that he was prescribed. When you gave him the pills he immediately tipped his head back and swallowed them without water.

“I’m probably biased, though,” Jack said once he could.

You raised your eyebrow in curiosity. You finished chewing the food in your mouth before asking, “Biased how?”

“I love everything you do.”

Warmth floods your cheeks at his declaration. You hoped Jack wouldn’t notice it or that the medication would make him forget about it tomorrow. It’s not that you were embarrassed to let him see the effect he had on you, you just knew that if he was more coherent and present he’d probably tease you and perhaps it was self-absorbed or vain but all you wanted was to bask in his affections for you right now.

“Oh?” It was all you could think to say. Jack wasn’t the most affectionate when it came to words. It was obvious that his love language was physical touch so it’s not as if you had much experience in dealing with him saying sweet things randomly.

Jack hummed and nodded his head slowly. The pills you had given him were starting to kick in, you could tell as his eyelids grew heavier with every blink and the way his head slightly bobbed around as if he was trying to keep himself awake.

“Yeah,” his voice was low and slightly stirred but he kept his blue eyes trained on you. “I love everything about you.”

A bashful smile bloomed on your face and you didn’t try to hide it from your boyfriend. You placed your plate back on the table and kissed his cheek, “I love you too, Jack.”

When you pulled away and looked at Jack you were surprised to see a frown on his lips. He didn’t look upset or angry at what you said. Instead, he looked like he was thinking hard about something.

You didn’t lean back in for a kiss but instead, you lifted your hand to his face and rubbed your thumb over the wrinkles on his forehead. “Tell me what you’re thinking about otherwise you’ll end up with wrinkles from all that frowning.”

“You don’t get it, baby,” he spoke so softly you had to strain to hear him. “I love you. I love everything about you and I know you love me but it’s not even a comparison because I know I love you more than you love me.”

“That’s not true,” his words had left you feeling breathless but despite his sweet words, you needed him to know how much you loved him. “I can’t even put into words how much you mean to me.”

Jack’s eyes slid close but his soft and sleepy smile stayed. “You don’t get it, you’re like…” he paused for a long moment to find the right words. “You’re like the sun and I’m like a plant. I’m always seeking you out and I wouldn’t be able to survive if you were gone.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. A part of you wished that you had gotten it on camera because even though Jack was never one to shy away from talking about anything, he had never said anything remotely close to what he just told you.

However, it didn’t seem like he was looking for a response because less than a few seconds after his head dropped onto one of the many pillows behind him.

You say still on the couch for a moment waiting for your racing heart to go back to its regular rhythm. Once you felt stable again, you grabbed the plates as quietly as you could to not wake your boyfriend. When you stood from the couch to bring the dishes to the kitchen you were startled by the light grip on your arm. You looked down to see Jack had reached out to stop you from leaving.

“You know, I meant what I said right?” He asked, his eyes were still closed and his grip on you was becoming more and more loose by the second.

You grabbed his hand and set it down on his chest. “I know, Jacky.”

When he spoke again his words were slow and slurred, “Good, because you're the best thing to ever happen to me.”

The last few words were almost inaudible and before you could reply Jack was asleep. You smiled down at your sleeping boyfriend with a fond smile.

You brushed a piece of hair that was in his face away and leaned down to kiss his forehead softly.

“Trust me, I feel the same way.”

You know he couldn’t hear you but it felt important to you to say it out loud. When you finally left the living room and placed the dirty dishes into the dishwasher you couldn’t help but think that volunteering to take care of Jack after his surgery was a better decision than you originally had thought.

#Jack Hughes #Jack Hughes fics #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagines #my writing #jack hughes imagine

[wosoamazing]

Team Bonding Night

Part 5 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: I do have up to chapter 14ish of this pre-planned however if anyone has anything they might want to see in it please let me know and I will try to include it in here somewhere, if I don't already have it included.

Tonight was team bonding night and you decided that you would start the year right and offer to hold the first team bonding of the year. Stina and Frida came over and helped you set up. It was decided there would be a few games of pool before a movie. As all the girls arrived there were plenty of comments about how fancy your place was and how your parents must be rich, they were all light hearted and really just jokes but unbeknownst to everyone they all hit a nerve, but you had prepared for this and so you just ignored it, knowing that the girls meant nothing.

You had just performed the break shot for the last game of the night when Leah came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder. You were almost expecting a comment from someone or even at least a look from Beth, who kept teasing you about ‘your very close friendship with Leah’, at Leah’s actions however no one batted an eyelid. But it was most likely because Leah was known for her hugs and hugging people, so much so that it didn’t even surprise you when she did it.

“Hello,” you said as she turned her head so it rested on your shoulder, “as much as I appreciate this it’s almost my turn again,” you informed her, she just hummed before letting you go. 

The pool game was coming to an end, with Katie and Caitlin having two remaining balls to sink whilst you and Steph were now trying to sink the 8-ball, so Stina decided to start setting up for the movie, opening the door to the gym to get the bean bags.

“Holy Crap, how do you have so many trophies and medals?” Alessia let out, announcing the fact to the whole team, causing you to wish that you could just vanish right there and then, not even thinking about the fact everyone would see them, whilst you were getting ready, to be fair Alessia wasn’t over reacting, you had a large amount of Trophies. With at least one trophy for every football season, and at least two medals per season, plus an assortment of Track & Field and Cross Country trophies and medals, the collection grew pretty quickly.

“Where are they all from?” Kyra asked in awe, “Well school gave us them, if you scored the most goals, and then each season we got medals, and all the cross country and Track ones are school, and then obviously club football too,”

“You got medals and trophies for sport? Like regularly,” “Yeah, at awards nights, we got them for academic stuff too,”

“See that’s what happens when you go to a School like Melbourne Grammar, you’ve got to sit through the several hours long assemblies regularly.” Steph joked, it was something you always complained about to her.

“Isn’t Melbourne Grammar Expensive? Wait but is it true that your parents are also totally rich?” Katie asked, you just slightly nodded as you saw Leah’s eye widen from across the room at the mention of your parents, thankfully Beth diverted the conversation without anyone returning to the topic. 

______

You were sitting on the couch next to Leah as you all watched a movie. At some point Leah’s arm migrated to be around your back with her hand resting on your waist and you had dropped your head to rest on her shoulder.

“You must’ve had a good childhood,” Katie said as she looked around at the photos of you on the wall, you grinning in almost every single one, your Aunt’s by your side for a lot of them. However you hadn’t noticed she was looking at the photos and you thought that she was still on about the whole money thing, but not wanting to make a big deal you didn’t want to say much, so you settled with a simple “sure,” sounding a little annoyed.

“Oh did you never get a pony,” her joke sent you over the edge and so you snapped, you felt Leah’s hand grip onto your wrist as you stood up encouraging you not to do so, but you just ripped your arm from her grip.

“No Katie. I got a Pony. I’m just an embarrassment to the family according to my parents. I was told that football didn't matter, that the thing I was best at and loved was pointless and never going to happen as the family reputation needed to be upheld. I missed my first ever national camp, because I wasn't allowed to go, because it would’ve meant I would miss too much school, and CEOs, CFOs, doctors, professors or board members don’t take days off school. I have never made my parents proud, the more milestones I reach in my career, the more successful I am the more I become a failure to them. So yes, I did have money, and I thankfully had two very kind hearted women who made up for the fact I didn’t have parents, but my life wasn’t and will never be pure rainbows and sunshine,” you felt tears well up in your eyes as you suddenly realised you had just revealed a major part of your past to not just Katie but the whole team, you felt all eyes in the room on you, you couldn’t stay, you felt like the dam would break soon and you couldn’t embarrass yourself further in front of the team, so you got up, you left the room and headed towards the stairs, not knowing what else to do.

You slid down the wall of the spare bedroom upstairs as you dropped your head, holding it in your hands as you began to cry.

Stina had followed you and she quickly came to sit by your side, pulling you into her side.

“I can’t believe I did that, I just, jag bara. Jag tänkte inte och nu vet de alla. Tänk om-” (I just. I didn’t think and now they all know. What if-)

“Y/N/N andetag, ta några djupa andetag” (breath, take some deep breaths), Stina instructed you as she placed her hands on your shoulders, shifting to be kneeling in front of you.

A light knock was heard from the door and Beth and Steph popped their heads around the corner, “Oh sorry, we just thought you might want some water,” Stina nodded her head and they came in, placing the water on the floor next to you.

“Tack,” (thank you) you replied forgetting you weren’t talking to Stina anymore, “Sorry, thank you,” both women nodded and smiled before turning around to head out.

“Will Katie hate me now?” you ask no one specifically, causing the two women to turn around again.

“Y/N, no she won't, if anything I think she feels bad and is worried you won’t like her anymore.” Beth said and you nodded softly.

“Is everyone still downstairs?” You questioned, “No, Leah is letting them all out,” Steph told you nodded as you relaxed a little again, “I should probably go, Kyra will be waiting for me,” “yeah, Viv will be waiting for me,” “I think I’m taking Frida home, unless you want us to stay,” “No, its okay, I should go see if Leah is still here and apologise to her,” as you walked down the stairs you saw Leah standing in the middle of the living room fiddling with her wrist, you walked up to her.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You asked and she wrapped her arms around you, to give you a hug.

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t, but I’m sorry for not letting you speak up, I know she was only joking but it still wasn't right.” she said as she tried to pull back, “as much as I would love to stay and talk I think Lia is waiting for me in the car,” you let go of the hug as your mood slightly dropped “oh,” you said taking a step back, “come over for breakfast tomorrow?” “of course” she replied smiling and you returned the smile before she let herself out.

“So,” Steph said as she walked into the room, “That was,” Beth followed, dragging out as she couldn’t find the right word, “Palpable,” Stina said, assisting Beth.

“Please don’t I’ve already told you we’re just friends,”

“Okay,” they all replied with a raised eyebrow before hugging you and saying their goodbyes. 

_______

You were sitting at the kitchen island next to Leah as you ate breakfast when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, I’ll go get that, don’t you dare eat any more of my food,” you looked at her and she smirked, “Leah, don’t,” you instructed her again as you opened the door.

“Oh Katie, hi,” your words were enough for Leah to get up out of her chair and come over to where you were at the door.

“Erm, hi,” the Irish woman said, “I just wanted to apologise for last night, I erm, I shouldn’t hav-” “It’s okay Katie, you couldn’t have known and I’m sorry for snapping at you, I, well some stuff is going on with my family, more my parents currently, so it’s just something that is currently a sensitive topic, usually it doesn’t bug me,” you cut her off, “Erm, okay yeah, sorry,” she said still kind of awkwardly, “It’s okay,” you reminded her as you pulled her in for a hug, “you’re welcome to join us for breakfast if you want.”

Katie took you up on your offer and so you, Leah and her all had breakfast together before driving to training.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #awfc x reader #awfc #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #wosoamazing fireonfire

[little-boyyyy-blog]

back to america

jessie fleming x reader

when jessie makes the to move to portland, you were the only thing on her mind. yet still somehow. you make the biggest move of your relationship.

“i missed you.” the brunette girl you had missed so passionately whispered against the soft skin of your neck. your arms going and wrapping over jessie’s shoulders as you kept the door open with your foot.

“i missed you more jay”

there was a few bags behind the girl; knowing the the rest were getting flown out later in time. jessie and you had spent months (years) going back and forth over the idea of her making the move back to the states from west london. she had always fallen homesick, missing being so close to her parents and longtime girlfriend.

even while at ucla; jessie causally saw her family and friends. either making the trip up to london, ontario on school breaks or her family flying down on their long weekends to spend time with their girl. jessie and her family were thick as thieves. and she’d been telling anyone who asked that, that very reason was why she wanted to come back.

but she had also missed you. and she had just started subconsciously thinking of you as family.

but long distance had been extremely hard on you as a pair. and after you secured a job that was somewhere you felt like settling down at; at least for a while. you started not being able to take off nearly as much time as you could while finishing your masters and working a small restaurant job.

so once she did decide on coming back to the states, she wasted no time in coming home. and by that she meant you. and your high rise apartment that she loved dearly.

“there’s never been a longer plane ride a day in my life.”

jessie and you had met in a shared 3rd year kinetics and transport in material engineering class. it was one of the hardest classes you both had to face in the first 3 years at ucla. that was until you both had ended up in a group of 6 for your midterm final.

you had obviously known who jessie was, everyone did at ucla. but you also knew you had no chance at the gorgeous girl; subsequently leading to never letting you set yourself up for failure by even starting a conversation.

keeping your head down and your eyes away from the soccer stars vicinity allowed you to miraculously never end up in a position to gain a further crush on her. for three years at that! but once you were placed in the same group as her for your midterm, there was absolutely no point in trying.

“do you think anyone else is actually going to show up for this?” presley asked, is hands on his hips as he looked out the door. “it’s only 5:51, just sit down and relax”

he turned and squinted his eyes, causing you to crack a laugh from your friend. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i showed up?” presley’s friend piped off; looking up from his computer to now watch the door. “we knew you would canonn, thank you for being early.” presley rolled his eyes before looking back out into the hall. “oo! jenny is here!”

“jenny?” you questioned.

“short blonde who sits front row? always has a question no matter the situation or subject?”

“ah jenny..” you mumbled. well let’s hope she’s useful. or at least more useful than you and some good ole google.

as the time ticked on further until 6’o clock; you found yourself letting out a small sigh of relief. as frustrating as it may be to have to carry the weight of one person in a group you couldn’t help but find a positive of jessie not being there. you didn’t have to face her. that gorgeous gorgeous face.

it was a matter of time. you knew you’d have to come face to face with the brunette who didn’t even know you existed; but you had felt a small amount of relief at it not being today.

but even without the girl your group started hitting the ground running; you working on your computer as the others gave you the information to type down onto the shared slides. the group had been mostly focused on creating an easily accessible but slightly complex introduction to a prototype for the project.

“-i am so sorry! is this group 3 for dr. kimmich’s class?” your eyes shot up from your computer, only to lock with your forever-far away crush. you knew your lips parted, no words coming out but parted as you stared at the beautiful girl. “yes it is! glad you could join us!” presley shot up from his seat, is coffee in hand as he quickly made his way to the brunette.

the last open seat was placed directly infront of you, so as presley ushered the girl in. you were shitting bricks.

the group picked up right where it left off. and jessie ended up being more useful than anyone else. she was insanely good at any engineering class it seemed; but you had never seen it first hand until now.

you could have caught many flies with the way your lips stayed parted and your eyes fixated on the soccer player. her hair was in a messy bun, wearing a ucla soccer shirt an a pair of grey sweats. she looked other-worldly.

you loved how bright her smile was and how her eyebrows furrowed inwards when she didn’t completely understand something. presley has landed multiple kicks to your shin, giving you the crazy eyes and mumbling under his breath everytime for you to stop staring.

you never really could.

“come on, let’s get your stuff inside” you pulled away from her embrace, stealing a peck from her lips and pushing her off to the side. stuggling but managing to pick up the few (four) duffle bags off of the ground and bringing them into your apartment.

“you say let’s and then bring them all in yourself”

“don’t want my pretty girl to hurt herself”

pushing through your bedroom door and placing them on the foot of your bed. jessie found her way behind you; wrapping her arms around your torso as you quickly unzipped one of her bags.

you were prepared to unpack her things, wanting to set up home base for her to make her feel more peaceful with the big change. and you shamelessly knew she’d find a way to wrap her arms around you as you did such. you both had spent 100’s of trips doing the small motions; and this one felt better as you knew it would one of the last.

pulling out all of her shirts and shorts as she laid kisses on the inside of your neck; whispering her ‘i miss you’s’ on the soft skin. having to resist your girlfriend as she continued even through your groans and teasing comments about her being a horny boy.

actually; that probably was one of the traits of jessie’s. she could easily be found herself getting lost in your neck any second possible; even in very public settings or terrible timed events.

“mm jess, get some hangers please” you pushed her away from you, you hand pressing against her hip and tapping for her to move. “fine.” she placed another soft kiss to your neck before scurrying off.

a small smile coming across your face as you continued pulling out her clothes. laying out the shirts flat on the bed and unfolding her pants/sweats only to refold them in a way that would make hanging them up on the hangers easier.

“where did your clothes go?” jessie questioned as she came out of the closet, arms filled with hangers.

of course she noticed right away.

“they are packed up” you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend, she had never been known for her abilities to pick up on subtle details. but she had to pick on this one?

“going on a trip? for what? a month?” she joked; sighing deeply as you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and started hanging up her shirts. a small smile coming across your lips as you caught the end of a portland jersey inbetween your fingertips. “more so months.”

portland has always loved their canadians; and jessie was absolutely no exception to that. so when she got the offer, there was absolutely no way she was going to decline it.

and trust, you understood why portland loved canadians so much. just look at yours?!

“baby what’s going on? there’s a lot of things missing?”

you swallowed your heartbeat down, feeling the anxiety of the impending implications coming faster than expected. you had secretly prayed that she wouldn’t have started questioning things until maybe a few days in.

you had cleared out space in your shower caddie for her own products, a little space on your bedside table for her things to take up. you had even set up an extra key ring by your door for her to be able to hang her keys up on; a brand new key to your apartment occupied it currently. one that she didn’t even know existed.

you watched as her head started looking through the room, her eyes going from the closet to you, to the bathroom door, the nightstand, under the bed, and moving to go to your armoire.

you placed your hand on the soft skin of her forearm, drawing her attention back to you; stopping her from moving around the room to see what else is missing.

taking a deep breath before you even looked at the brunette-girl eyes. “i love you jess, i have since our first group project junior year..” her right arm going around your waist, holding you as your hand gripped on the other girls forearm.

“..you’ve chased ever dream you’ve ever wanted and truthfully got them. making them more and your own in the process. you’ve shown me incredible elegance and composure in some of the hardest times of our relationship and i truly don’t see myself living this life with anyone else..” jessie’s grip found its way to somehow thighten; holding you almost flush against her as you stared up into her eyes.

your eyes watered at the look of complete awe she happened to hold in her beautiful face, incomparable to any 7 wonder or model you’ve ever seen. “..you’ve made the biggest move; the riskiest move of your career to come and make us work. and i would hate myself for not at least asking. so. will you move in with me?”

her smile reflected the same one you given her the day you said yes to her when she asked you on your first date. her hands now both coming up to hold your face as she looked at you; as if she was completely infatuated with you now.

“no way did you just ask me that?”

growing slightly shy at her gaze , you feel your own cheeks heat up in the hold of the girls rough palms. one of your own hands coming up and lightly clasping around her left wrist. a small nod coming from you as you felt embarrassment start to creep up. the lack of anwser made your brain run wild. “if you feel like it’s too soon or too much change at one time i completely un-“

“too soon? i tried countless times to have you move to england with me. i had hoped to quietly make myself at home but this is even better.” she shook her head at your self doubt. almost in amazement that you could even imagine something of the sort. “yes y/n. id love to move in with you.”

“really?”

“i can’t believe you’re re asking me that. im absolutely fucking sure.” her lips coming down to silence any response you could think of. and let’s just say those clothes did get folded and hung up. just happened to be the next morning.

#jessie fleming #fleming #jessie #portland #portland thorns #ucla #ucla bruins #ucla women’s soccer #chelsea women #chelsea wfc #nwsl #wsl #barclays wsl #jessie fleming x reader #nwsl x reader #wlw post #wlw #gxg #gxg imagine #oneshot #wlw oneshot #wlw x reader #women’s soccer #ncaa women’s soccer #canada women’s soccer #women’s football #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #woso

[leclercvsx]

Show off | SMAU

LANDO NORRIS

pairings: Lando x footballer!reader

summary: Lando is dating reader, who’s a football player for arsenal WFC & Lioness’ and Lando isn’t shy when it comes to reminding people that he is readers boyfriend.

warnings: storylines do not add up, i’m pretty much making them up on the spot!

face claim: Alessia Russo (loml)

note: I KNOW IM LATE BUT OH MY GOD I CANNOT BELIEVE LANDO WON HIS FIRST RACE!!!I WAS SCREAMING WHEN HE CROSSED THAT LINE😭

masterlist | requests open

yourusername

liked by landonorris, ellatoone, lionesses and 52,726 others

yourusername: Evenings at Wembley✨Only onwards and upwards from here🦁💕

landonorris: my girlfriend everyone, look at her go😁😁

leahwilliamson: i don’t know what she’s told you, but she’s MY girlfriend😐

ellatoone: i think you’ve both been mistaken, she’s actually my girlfriend

landonorris: i will fight both of you (virtually because i would never hit a woman🙏🏼)

yourusername: calm down girls, there’s plenty of me to go around😛

lionesses: 🦁❤️

carlossainz: Great game Y/n! Lando made sure all of us watched it

yourusername: thank you, Carlos! i’m sorry Lando put you through that😔

danielricciardo: don’t be sorry, Y/n. We loved watching you play🙏🏼

liked by yourusername

fan1: Lando forcing the grid to watch the Lioness’s games sounds so funny to me😭😭

——

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,263,372 others

landonorris: Celebrating my first win AND celebrating my girlfriend winning her match🙏🏼🧡

tagged: yourusername, mclaren

yourusername: IM SO PROUD OF YOU

yourusername: You deserve this!!!

yourusername: it’s also very sweet that you included my win, BUT THIS IS ALL ABOUT YOU🧡🧡

landonorris: your wins are my wins and my wins are your wins❤️

oscarpiastri: that was cringe

leahwilliamson: i agree with pastry

oscarpiastri: thanks but that is NOT my name

yourusername: it is now x

carlossainz55: congrats, you deserve it💪

liked by landonorris

mclaren: here’s to many more🧡

——

yourusername

liked by landonorris, leahwilliamson and 52,827 others

yourusername: enjoyed the off-season with this muppet, time to get back to training💪

tagged: landonorris

landonorris: i miss you

yourusername: it’s been less than 24 hours since we last saw eachother

landonorris: i miss you

leahwilliamson: im gonna enjoy seeing you everyday and rubbing it in Lando’s face😅

landonorris: i hate you

leahwilliamson: your girlfriends about to become mine

landonorris: back🤺off🤺

yourusername: Leah, be nice👀

francisca.cgomes: gonna miss seeing you in the paddock :(

yourusername: i’m gonna miss you too😔

lilymhe: don’t worry, we’ll all be there for that world cup final😉

yourusername: hopefully we make it😅

carmenmmundt: you WILL make it, we’re manifesting it

fan1: the way the wags interact with her😭😭😭

fan2: i KNOW it’s so cute

fan3: well she is a wag too, let’s not forget

——

landonorris added to their story

yourusername replied: i love you😭😭

landonorris: i love you too❤️

fan1 replied: she’s so cute omg

lilymhe replied: she’s gonna smash the world cup

leahwilliamson replied: she went out with me before you by the way

landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE

——

yourusername

liked by landonorris, leahwilliamson and 173,372 others

yourusername: absolutely gutted and heartbroken, but it just wasn’t meant to be. I’m so unbelievably proud and grateful to be apart of this special team. No one else i would want to be on this journey with🤍

I want to say a huge thank you to everyone that came out to support us and those of you at home who have supported us from the very start. We’ll all cherish these memories forever.

For now we’ll all rest up and recover and come back better than ever🦁🤍

alexgreenwood5: ❤️

1maryearps: ❤️❤️❤️

keirawalsh: ❤️

landonorris: you did great baby, you’ll win the next one🫶

carlossainz55: you did very well!

lilymhe: you did unbelievably well, Y/n. The next time you will win, i swear❤️

yourusername: thanks guys, sorry i disappointed you all❤️

landonorris: stop that. you didn’t disappoint anyone.

fan1: i’m sobbing

fan2: you were great, it just wasn’t meant to be :(

——

landonorris added to their story

yourusername replied: thank you for everything

landonorris: no need to thank me❤️

leahwilliamson replied: as much as i hate to admit it, i’m glad you’re taking care of her

fan1 replied: that’s so cute

danielricciardo replied: you are such a simp

landonorris: shut the fuck up

——————————

i’m so proud of Lando’s first win. i was literally SCREAMING when he won. i didn’t wanna jinx it so i kept my cool and was just focusing on the gap between him and max but when he crossed that line me and my friend screamed and clapped😭😭

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #imagine #formula one #leclercvsc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1edit #lando norris #soft lando #lando x reader #lando imagine #ln4 smau #ln4 smut #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #ln4 one shot #ln4edit

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader was in a toxic relationship and Damian helps her with the trauma from the past?!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️ mention of past abusive relationship, damian being a softie , mention of verbal abuse and violence

behind closed doors

you’ve been in love before but you had no idea how it feels being loved.

you were in a happy relationship, or so you thought. but happy relationships aren’t made of lies, cheating, violence and hate.

you didn’t know what made him change his behaviour towards you. during the first months of relationship he was kind and loving, and suddenly he changed.

he blamed it on you being away for too long, he didn’t like that. he knew that you were doing an important job, working for wwe meant investing most of your time in your job but it was all you dreamed of.

you graduate in journalism just for that main reason and when you were offered the position of hosting some wwe programs after the main events you couldn’t say no.

you made so many friends that in all reality, were like a family to you.

but your ex didn’t like that, so he made you quit. when your colleagues noticed your sudden behaviour change, they started asking questions you didn’t want to answer. when they saw how you changed your wardrobe, they started investigating in your private life a little more and you hated that, and an escalated fight with your ex made you quit your dream job.

all because of him.

“let me know when you’ll stop whoring around” he said, with such a low voice that made you shiver.

“i’m not…”

“you’re not?” he laughed “yes you are!” he raised his voice at you, again “i see the shows you are hosting, i see all the wrestlers flirting with you and you, like the good whore you are, doing nothing to stop them!”

“it’s part of the job, i’m not flirting with anyone!” that was your first mistake, raising your voice back at him.

“so you’re saying i’m a liar” he went, gaslighting you.

“no - no, i’m not saying that…” your voice smaller “i’m just saying i’m doing my job, i’m a journalist and that’s what i’m doing…”

“now, hear me very well, you’re quitting that job and you’ll stay here at home, waiting for me when i come back from work, like the good wife you’re going to be one day” he smiled at you, making you shiver again.

“i’m not quitting my dream job!” you screamed back and before you could move, slap. a loud and strong slap to your face.

“scream at me again bitch! you’ll be six feet under ground next time” he screamed, before leaving the room and leaving you standing there, frozen on your spot.

so you did what he threatened you to do. you quit your job. without giving explanations.

all of your friends texted you, tried to reach you in some way but you never answered back.

he was controlling your phone, who you called, who you texted, what you posted on your socials. he became too invasive that at some point, you weren’t allowed outside without him.

rhea and damian, your best friends became worried about you, especially when they didn’t see you at the airport when you were all supposed to leave together for the european tour.

“what you mean she quit?” rhea asked jey.

“i don’t know man, she did. no one told me anything else. she simply quit without giving any explanation man…i’m worried for her, she wasn’t the same person anymore” jey said, making feel damian more insecure.

damian had a crush on you. he did from the first day he saw you, and he was heartbroken when he found out you had a boyfriend. but he didn’t want to ruin your relationship so he was okay with just being friend with you.

he was the first person to notice about your sudden change. the dress you wore were more covering - not that he minded what you were wearing, but he loved your coloured and crazy style that he was kinda shocked to see you wearing black long sleeve dresses everyday. he noticed the way you talked less and smiled less, he noticed how you stopped going to the gym with rhea, he noticed that you would eat less and less and alone.

he knew something was up, he just didn’t know what.

and now, the news that you quit.

he knew he had to reach out to you once he came back from the tour, even if it meant breaking your house down.

two weeks into the european tour and he finally was coming back home with all the crew. while being away he tried to call you many times but he was always sent to voicemail.

“i can’t do this anymore…something’s wrong, i can feel it” damian said to rhea once he was driving back to his home.

“you wanna go check on her?”

“not now…she’s probably asleep. i’m going tomorrow, when she’s home alone…” he said, gripping stronger at the wheel.

rhea just nodded, knowing that talking about you was hurtful for damian.

and so the first thing damian did was to wait until you were home alone. when he saw your boyfriend leaving was the moment he stepped out of his car and knocked on your front door.

his heart broke when he saw your face.

you had a purple bruise covering half of your left cheek and your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to do.

“y/n…” he sadly smiled at you.

“dam - damian, what are you doing here?”

“i wanted to check on you…” he said and you softly smiled, letting him inside the house.

“i’m good damian, how are you by the way?” you tried to avoid the conversation that was coming.

“you’re not good y/n…what happened to your cheek?” he asked, a little too worried.

“oh i fell” you said causally but damian wasn’t having any of it.

“definitely not a bruise from a fall…y/n, can you please look at me?” he asked you softly stepping in front of you.

tears were already forming in your eyes.

“did he do this?” was all he asked before your eyes betrayed you and you let those tears fall “oh sweetie…” he whispered before wrapping his muscular arms around you.

it’s been a long time since someone hugged you like that and you didn’t want to let go. you felt safe in his arms but you knew it was coming to an end.

“is he the reason you quit your job?” he asked and you nodded, too scared to speak “look at me love…” he softly smiled, gently wiping your tears away “you’re coming with me…i’m not letting you stay here okay?”

“i-i can’t damian…”

“yes you can love, i’m not letting you stay here with that dick…he doesn’t fucking deserve you, not after this, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize what was going on before…”

“its not your fault dam” you said.

“so…are you coming with me?” he asked, hopeful.

“o-okay…”

“i’ll help you pack love…you’re staying with me for all the time you need okay?” he gently asked you and you nodded.

when your boyfriend came back home and saw that all of your clothes were missing, he went crazy. he knew he would have happened sometimes but he never thought that you would actually leave him.

he tried to call you and text you but you blocked his number. damian even turned your phone off so you could focus on your self a little more.

damian was so kind and patient with you. he firstly offered you his own bedroom but you couldn’t accept it, so he gave up and gave you the guest bedroom. the first few nights were completely nightmares, you couldn’t fall asleep and every time you did, you would wake up with a scream. but damian was always there for you, he helped you calm down after a bad dream, he held you if you wanted him to do so, he wiped your tears away everytime you woke up crying.

he was always there for you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

of course - if damian knew, rhea knew. you wanted to keep it a secret, the whole “violent boyfriend thing” - you didn’t want people to know about it.

eventually hunter found out and he was more than happy to give you your job back. he even suggested that you would be accompanied by guards from home to work and viceversa.

but somehow your ex found out too. he saw you were back working on tv, he saw you were enjoying more time with your friends again and he couldn’t accept it, so, after a failed attempt of breaking into damian’s home, you had to ask for a restraining order.

damian was always by your side, trying to give you your own space but keeping an eye on you.

you’ve spent two months now with him, and, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself you were falling for him, more and more every day. you weren’t used to be treated with such love and care, and all damian did was natural for him.

but even if you were feeling better the nightmares never stopped.

“no, please don’t” you screamed but your boyfriend was just staring at you with a mischievous smile.

“don’t what uh?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“don’t hurt me please, i-i will do anything you want to but please…don’t hurt me again…” but no matter how you begged, he wasn’t listening and so his strong hand met your face once again.

you woke up with a loud scream and damian, being only two doors away from you, came running to your bedroom.

you were heavily breathing and your eyes were full of tears.

“hey hey it’s okay…” he whispered gently sitting next to you.

you involuntarily flinched when you heard him talking.

“it’s me amor…it’s me, it’s damian…” he softly talked to you “breath with me…let’s breath together okay?” and you did as he told you.

his hand softly reached your face and wiped away your tears. you melted into his touch and he felt that. he wanted to scream how much he loved you but he didn’t want to scare you away.

“i’m sorry for waking you up…go back to sleep” you apologised.

“i’m not leaving you here…don’t apologise for this”

“i don’t want to keep being a burden for you and-…”

“stop it right there…hermosa, you are not a burden for me, you’ll never be a burden for me, you’re…i care for you, so much…i-i” he wanted to say he loved you but couldn’t “you will never be alone okay? i’ll be here for all the time you need me to”

“can you please stay here with me until i fall asleep?” you shyly asked him, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

“absolutely love…come here” he laid down and let you lay in his arms, the place where you felt more protected.

“thank you damian…i mean it”

“there’s nothing to thank me for…”

“damian…”

“yes?”

“i care for you too…maybe more than a friend should” you confessed “but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just wanted to let you know, nothing would change our friendship”

“i want to change our friendship though…i wish we could be more than friends” he confessed too, making your heart skip a beat.

“what?”

“you heard me right y/n…i like you, a lot. i’ve always liked you but i didn’t want to interfere with your relationship, if i only knew what was really going on behind closed doors…i won’t rush you to do anything…we’re going slow if you want to…”

“i want to damian, i want to have a relationship with you i just” you were scared honestly “i’ve never been loved before, i don’t know how to love again…”

“it’s okay y/n…it’s okay…we’ll take things slow love”

“thank you damian…” you thanked him “but…i would really like to kiss you now…”

“we can do that” he smirked making you smile. his soft hand caressing the cheek where once there was a huge bruise, he leaned over you and captured your lips over his big ones. the kiss was soft, full of warmth and love that a tear of happiness fell from your eyes.

he smiled into the kiss, making you smile too.

“i liked that…” you confessed making him chuckle.

“good night hermosa…sleep well” he said when he saw you yawning.

his hand scratched your head, making you fall asleep faster than ever, his arms around you making you feel safe.

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe x you #damian priest #wwe imagines #wwe one shot #wwe x oc #damian priest x reader #wwe damian priest #damian priest x oc #damian priest oneshot #damian priest x you #damian priest fanfic #damian priest smut #damian priest imagine #damian priest wwe #wwe damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n #damian priest x finn balor #damian priest fluff #damian priest angst #damian priest story #wwe story #the judgment day x you #the judgment day one shot #wwe the judgment day #the judgment day fluff