#because i know that’s what’s kept them apart

[cheriladycl01]

Can you do a cute one shot please where reader gets drunk and she’s a super lovey and cute drunk and just wants cuddles with Max or Lando please?? Love 🍷 anon who is deffo not drunk and crying over max edits 🥰🥰

Drunk in Love - Lando Norris x Drunk Reader x Max Verstappen

Plot: Your were drinking for England after your first podium. To the point where you can’t tell the difference between your boyfriend Lando Norris and team-mate Max Verstappen.

Warning: Throwing up, General drunkenness.

A/N: This request was hard to choose whether i wanted it centered around Max or Lando, so i added Max being cutie.

Credit to il-predestinato for the GIF

You'd gotten your first podium and you were in a celebrating that in a London Club after the British GP. There was a load of drivers in the club with you including your boyfriend Lando Norris.

You were being offered drinks from pretty much everyone in the room, it was absolutely insane and you'd taken so many drinks without even thinking how much you'd had.

You vision was so blurry, and you were at the point where being this intoxicated was scaring you and you just wanted to get back to your apartment that you kept in London while Lando had the Monaco apartment.

"Lan!" you cry looking up at who you thought was your boyfriend because of the shirt he was wearing. It the shape, same colour and same material when you leaned in to touch it as what Lando was wearing.

Your vision was beyond fucked and you couldn't even make out your boyfriends beautiful face.

"Baby!" you cried at him, tugging him towards you, your eyes blurring more with tears as you struggle to get his attention. The body turns round, and Max is now looking down at his friends very drunk state.

"Y/N?" he asks looking over at you bending down.

"Lan, please baby. I love you but I want to go home!" you say nuzzling into his neck and wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Oh-erm Y/N" Max tries but because of how loud the club is your drunk self cant even tell that it's Max and his Dutch accent that is talking to you and trying to pry you off of him.

"Why are you trying to get me to let go! You love cuddles!" you pout looking down.

"Do you not love me anymore?" you gasp before sobs start to rack through your body at the thought of Lando, the love of your life no longer wanting to be with you.

"Hey, Hey shush!" Max comforts you, pulling you in for a hug and brushing you hair with his hand in a polite manner. You nuzzle into the hug, and you started to feel strange, this didn't feel like a Lando hug, it didn't feel like your Lando full stop.

This body was taller, but not as built as Lando. It didn't feel right. And you couldn't help but wonder who on earth this imposter was.

Max was asking around him, trying to get Charles and Carlos to find where Oscar, Logan and Lando had all wondered off to away from you.

"You are my boyfriend! WHO ARE YOU?" you ask your eyes squiting to try have a better look at the man in front of you.

"Y/N it's me Max!" he smiles kindly putting his hand on your upper arm to steady you as he can see your swaying.

"I want Lando, please get Lando!" you ask with little gasps of breath, sounding like hiccups while you try to catch you breathe a little.

"Carlos has gone looking for him, look come sit down here next to Charlie and Daniel, i'll go help Carlos!" Max says leading you next to Charles who moves over a little in the booth to give you room to get in.

You sit there quietly waiting for Lando's return.

Max was practically running round the club, looking to spy Lando or even Carlos so they could team up and look for the trio together.

After looking he finds them out on the balcony looking down at the busy London street below.

"Lando!" Max shouts making all their heads snap round.

"What's up?" Lando asks putting his drink down making it clink on the glass of the table.

"It's Y/N she's like ... I've never seen her this drunk before. She didn't even know I was me, she thought i was you!" he explains and Lando looks between Oscar and Logan with a shocked look.

"We left her for what... like half an hour!" Lando sighs before following Max back inside leaving Oscar and Logan to their own devices out on the balcony.

"Baby?" Lando asks tentatively, seeing you slouched against Charles.

"Lan!" you exclaim, jumping up and launching yourself at him. You hug him and he wraps you into a familiar warm bear hug and you know that it's him now.

"There's MY Lan!" you smile, nuzzling into him. He kisses your forehead before pulling you back and bending down to your level to look over your face. He could see how spacey your eyes look and that it's for sure about time you should be leaving.

"Come on baby lets go!" he smiles and you shake your head with a soft whine.

"My feet hurt so much" you say groggily and he cant help but laugh at the little pouty expression on his face.

"That's okay, I can carry you baby" he smiles and lifts you up as though you were the weight of a feather. He carries you bridle style all the way back to your apartment which was actually on a 15 minute walk through London.

"I love you so much! I'm sorry about tonight!" you sighed at him, not enjoying filming guilty for making him leave this early.

"Why are you sorry darling!" he laughs as he places you down in the now moving elevator of your apartment building.

"Because i made you leave early from the fun because I don't feel well!" you pout, grabbing his arm and hugging it close against you. He just smiles down at you. You were normally very affectionate anyway but drunk you was very clingy and needy.

Not that Lando minded, he actually loved it.

"Come on baby, it's bed time for the both of us. No need to feel guilty, I was kinda wanting to come back for a nice cuddle session with you anyway!" he grins and you then look down.

"Shower!" you complain looking at him as the lift doors open to your pent house. He carries you straight through to the bathroom, you collapse to your knees throwing up all the contents from that night.

Tears brim your eyes hating the sensation, while Lando rubs your back soothingly trying to help make sure you can breath.

"Okay, lets wash this down and then get you in there to clean up yeah hunny?" he smiles at you, grabbing the shower head down and turning the water on washing the sick from the floor of the shower down the drain until its gone. He helps you step in undressing you, then himself.

He helps you shower, not trusting you alone in the shower by yourself in this state before drying you off and brushing you teeth for you.

You both snuggle up in the big bed, you cuddling into him playing with his curls.

"I love you!" you whispers looking up at his expression.

"I love you more" he smiles placing a kiss on your lips before turning the lights off with the remote and laying his head back to sleep.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Aftermath

Summary: The aftermath of your arrival in Jackson and running back into Joel brings back emotions you thought you had moved on from.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, POV switch, bad break-up, talks about child birth, one steamy thought, flashbacks, Tommy being the protective bro, a surprise about the real relationship status of Joel and reader, Ellie being a dick (affectionate), Joel still being a mess and bad at feelings, but he's trying

A/N: still not exactly sure where I am going with this. Let me know what you think

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

part two of invisible string

You didn’t think seeing him again after so many years, and after so much had happened would feel like this. 

Like finally being able to take a full breath after being under water for too long. 

You thought you’d be over it by now. Over him. 

It had been almost six years after all.

Yet it felt like it had been yesterday when you took one last look at him early in the morning with your little possessions packed and him passed out on the bed after another night of him drinking himself to sleep. 

But the moment you caught his wide eyes across the room now, it was 2010 all over again and you were the girl across the street who had dropped all the rations you had just picked up because some rude asshole walking into you, finding Joel looking at you with a hint of a smirk after you cursed the person out who had ran into you. 

Before you could realise it you had sat Ana down on the bench next to your brother who still had little Leo in his lap and were walking towards him, ignoring your brother calling after you.  

Joel looked at you like he’d seen a ghost. 

Deep in the night, when you were alone and your little family was asleep you imagined what it would be like if you’d ever meet Joel again. 

He had not only broken your heart that night you told him you were pregnant. 

He had broken a part of you that you hadn’t been able to repair. 

You tried to hate him, god did you try. 

You cursed him on your whole absolute suicidal journey back to your hometown close to Denver, your mind set on finding your brother who you had occasional contact to, since he was living in a community on the an military base, close to the Denver QZ.

You cursed Joel when you gave birth in the safety of an actual working hospital while your brother held your hand, wishing so much it was Joel who was supporting you through the birth of your child. 

You cursed him when you were surprised by not only one but two babies who you were now responsible for. 

You cursed and cursed and cursed him while you just could not stop loving him no matter how much you tried.  

Because you knew the man behind the version he had turned into in the months leading up to your break up. 

The man who was lashing out at you for things out of your control. The man who stayed away longer and longer until he didn’t come back home to your shared apartment at night. The man who never ever told you he loved you with his own words. 

Not when you were awake, but you did not know that he whispered his I love you’s every night against your forehead before he fell asleep. 

But he also was the man who always kept you in his arms when you were scared of a storm howling outside. The man who always kept one of his shirts out for you because he knew how much you loved to wear them. The man who had you on the verge of tears from the way he knew how to play your body night after night while he praised you what a good girl you were for him. 

He was the father of your children. 

And you loved him. 

You still loved him. 

You just weren’t sure if you could ever forgive him and trust him again. 

And just couldn’t stay with him back then while was busy destroying himself. Because it wasn’t just you anymore you had to take care of but the children growing inside of you. 

And so you left. All the way to Colorado, the Denver QZ and then to find you brother, finally finding him when you were almost eight months pregnant. And now you were in Jackson, Wyoming. 

The community you had spend the last years in having been overrun by a huge group of infected and your brother knowing about Jackson from the trading routes he went on regularly. 

You never thought you would see Joel ever again. Not that far away from Boston. 

And now he was here. And he was looking at you. And you were trying to decide if you would kill or kiss him when you saw him bend over, Tommy looking concerned and a girl not older than fifteen running across the room towards him.

„Joel?“ You whispered, your hand reaching out as if to touch him, but you decided against it, rubbing your sweaty palm against the fabric of the new jeans you had been gifted this morning. 

He blinked his eyes up at you in shock. 

„You’re here,“ he gasped and then he fell into the arms of his brother, who caught him before he could hit his head. Unconscious. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy groaned, trying to pull his brother up in his arms, the girl next to you pushing you away to help him. 

„Is he dead? Tommy? He can’t be dead. I am not ready being mad at him yet,“ she shook her head while helping Tommy slowly put him on the ground, people gathering around you now.

„He’s not dead, Ellie. He’s just….“ Tommy looked up at you for a moment before he looked at the girl, Ellie, again. 

„He’s just overwhelmed and had a panic attack. Can you please get Doc so we can get him to the clinic? Just to be sure?“ Tommy asked and you could feel how hesitant the girl was to leave him. 

Who was she?

„Fine,“ she mumbled and got back up, but not before looking at you with narrowed eyes. 

„This is your fault,“ she hissed and you were taken aback as she walked towards you, intimidating you. You heard Tommy call her name, but she didn’t stop and you stumbled back, unsure and if you were honest with yourself a little scared at the look the girl was giving you. 

You didn’t get far before you walked into someone, feeling a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to find your brother behind you. 

„Ellie!“ Tommy had now gotten up to walk in front of her. 

„Who is she? What did she do to Joel?“ Ellie asked him, her eyes still on you. 

Tommy sighed. 

„She’s Joel’s wife.“

The ring Joel had put on your ring finger during a winter storm in December of 2012 didn’t sit on your finger anymore. 

You had to take it off somewhere between the fifth and sixth month of your pregnancy, your fingers swelling. It had made its way to the chain around your neck where you kept it since that day next to the heart your mother had gifted to you when you were seven years old.

The only thing you had left from her.  

It was a habit of yours to play with the ring as soon as you got anxious since then. 

You were in the clinic now, not sure what you were doing here. 

After Joel had been brought to the clinic last night Tommy thought it was for the best that you stayed back while you weren’t even sure if you wanted to go and see him. 

So you had taken your kids home where your brother helped tuck them in before he disappeared into his own room, but only after kissing your forehead and telling you that everything was gonna be okay and that if you wanted to talk he would be there. 

He knew everything about you and Joel. 

And you were pretty sure at some point he would tell Joel exactly what he thought about his behaviour that led to you practically fleeing from him while being pregnant. 

But that would wait. 

First you had to figure out what to do. 

Part of you wanted to hide from the world. 

But you had two very excited kids who wanted to go to school this morning. Kids that thankfully did not witness anything that happened the night before thanks to your brother and their future teacher who had helped settle you in. 

You were pretty sure your brother had a crush on her.

So now, after you brought your kids to school and spend two hours telling yourself that you could leave them there, that they were safe, you had Maria walk you towards the clinic where apparently Joel was still resting. 

Tommy and the girl you had seen yesterday, Ellie, were waiting in front of a closed door when you walked in and they both looked up at you when you entered. 

Tommy gave you a tired smile before he kissed his wife’s cheek as she walked over to him. 

„How is he?“ Maria asked. 

„Worst patient ever. He’s getting released this morning,“ Tommy said and you nodded, still uncertain if you should stay or leave, your fingers finding the ring resting on the chain over your heart, playing with it. 

„I should leave before he gets out,“ Ellie said. 

„Ellie, please. I’m sure he wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and Ellie rolled her eyes. 

„Should have thought about that before he did what he did,“ she grunted, looking up at you. You got the impression that there was some kind of a story between her behaviour towards Joel. Not that you were interested in finding out more about it. 

Because you were not family. 

Not anymore. 

You weren’t sure what you and Joel were anymore if you were anything at all. Not for a long time. 

„Guess now that he has her back, he won’t need me anymore anyway,“ she said as she walked past you and out of the clinic. 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over his forehead in frustration. 

„Really looking forward to Sammy becoming a Teenager one day,“ Tommy groaned and Maria smiled softly, pulling her arm around Tommy’s waist. 

You had met little Sammy yesterday as Tommy introduced you to his little family. 

„Thankfully we have almost ten years to prepare for that,“ Maria said and he nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at her before he looked at you again. 

„He wants to talk to you,“ Tommy said and you sucked your bottom lip in. 

„And I would feel better if it happens here where a doctor is close by after last night,“ he said jokingly but you could hear some truth behind it. 

You took a deep breath, your fingers still playing with the ring on the chain. 

You should go. Maybe you should leave Jackson and find somewhere else, which you knew you wouldn’t. From what you had seen since getting here, the community was close to perfect, but you just didn’t know how you would be able to live somewhere with Joel close by. 

Did he still hate you?

Would he want to meet your children?

No. No he wouldn’t. If he would have wanted to be in the life of your kids, he would not have reacted the way he did back then and then ignored you for a full week after until you decided to leave. 

You were about to tell Tommy that you couldn’t face him when the door behind him opened and Joel stepped out with a younger woman who had to be the doctor, who instructed Joel sternly to take it easy for a couple of days. 

He whispered your name as he looked at you and you released a shaky breath. 

There suddenly was a tension in the air as you both looked at each other. 

„Can we… Can we talk?“ Joel asked. 

You only nodded, seeing him breath out in relief before he stepped back into the room. You looked at Tommy who gave you an encouraging smile, before you followed Joel into the room and closed the door behind you. 

The first thing Joel noticed when his eyes blinked open was that there was a crack in the ceiling of the room he was laying in that he should take a look at. He groaned, stretching his tired muscles turning his head around to find his brother sitting on a chair next to the bed he was laying in, his eyes on him. 

Was he at the… clinic?

Did he get hurt?

He was about to check his own body for injuries when the memories came floating back. 

You.

With a girl in your lap. 

A man next to you. 

With a boy in his lap. 

He sucked air in and Tommy’s hand came to rest on his arm. 

„Easy, brother,“ he said and Joel fixed his eyes on his brother, mirroring the way he was breathing slowly, calming himself down. 

„She’s really here?“ Joel asked and Tommy nodded. 

"Arrived an hour after you went on patrol two days ago. With her two kids and brother,“ Tommy stressed the last word and Joel closed his eyes. 

„Brother,“ he repeated. 

„Jep. You know you never really told me why she left,“ he began, before he pressed his lips into a line, slowly shaking his head and as Joel opened his eyes to look at his brother he wondered when Tommy had gotten the same look down that their Dad had when he was disappointed in his children. 

„Can’t fuck with the Miller genes. Leo looks like you when you were a boy,“ Tommy said. 

Leo. 

The boy’s name was Leo. 

His son’s name was…. No. He didn’t deserve that title. Not after….

„Did you know that she was pregnant?“ Tommy asked. 

Joel audibly breathed out. 

„Yeah. Yeah I did,“ he confessed, looking everywhere but at his brother, shame settling deeply in his gut. 

„Fuck,“ Tommy shook his head. 

„I fucked up. There’s no excuse. I lashed out and fucked it all up. I fucked up the only good thing…“ he stopped, feeling the tears in his eyes. 

They were silent for a while, until there was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in, asking if he was ready to get out of here, which Joel confirmed with a sigh. 

She asked Tommy to leave so she could check Joel over. 

He watched Tommy get up, walking out of the room. But just before he exited he turned around, his eyes fixed on his brother. 

„Maria is bringing her over in a bit. I recon you wanna talk to her?“ Tommy asked and Joel nodded. 

„Don’t be an asshole again. Or you gonna have a problem with me,“ he nodded at Joel and he nodded back. 

You hadn’t been in a room alone with Joel in almost six years. 

You didn’t know how to be alone with him anymore. 

There was a part that wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and tell him how much you missed him, but there was the bigger part of you that wanted nothing more than to run out of the room and hide from him. 

It was like some weird kind of PTSD that now connected being in a room alone with Joel with getting your heart broken, leaving every cell in your body bracing for heartbreak. 

„I can’t believe you’re here,“ he said as he leaned against the wall across from you, his hands behind his back, making himself small.

You stayed at the door, needing a quick way to get out of here if you needed to. 

He looked older. Tired. His hair almost as long as Tommy’s, now more salt than pepper in it. And there still was that perfect patch in his beard that grew no hair. A spot you had kissed more often than you could count in the past. 

You found him looking at you as you tried to form words. 

„I didn’t know you would be here. I didn’t think I would ever see you again,“ you said, voice quiet and he nodded. 

„Don’t think it’s a happy occasion for you, huh?“ He sighed, before he cursed under his breath. 

Before you could say something he continued. 

„That day…. The day you told me you were pregnant…. The way I reacted… Sorry isn’t enough of a word. I’d go on my knees to beg you for forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it. I never deserved you,“ he whispered the last sentence and you closed your eyes, fighting down the tears. 

„Joel, do you think I would have married you, if I thought you did not deserve me? I loved you. You. With all your flaws. I never understood why you thought you had to prove yourself worthy of me. I just wanted you to love me,“ you said softly. 

„I did love you. I still do… I just….“ He stopped, seemingly searching for what to say next while you looked at him with big eyes. 

„You love me?“ You asked, perplexed. 

He looked at you like you grew a second head. 

„Of course I do,“ he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Sucking your bottom lip in, you looked at him while your fingers went back to the ring that rested on the chain around your neck, seeing Joel’s eyes follow your hand, recognising what you held in your hand. 

„You never told me before,“ you whispered, the room suddenly feeling to small. 

„I know,“ he said, voice breaking as a tear slipped down his cheek. 

You looked away from him, your eyes landing on the clock hanging on the wall, eyes widening. 

„I… I have to go. I have to pick up…. I have to pick up the twins….“ You mumbled already turning around, your hand on the door handle.

„Twins?“ You heard him ask behind you and you nodded without turning around. 

„What are their names?“ He asked softly and your shoulders fell as you took a deep breath. 

„Leo and Ana Miller. After my dad and your mom,“ you whispered before you opened the door and walked out. 

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband" - part. 2

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband" - part 2

pairings: itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "wife" on rin's part) (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, lovesick boys

notes: I'M ALIVE! i cant believe how long it's been since i had time/energy/creativity to write something, ohmy goddddddd. i'm so sorry for all the time it took to post this, but i wanna ty all so much for all the love on part 1 and all the requests for part 2! hopefully this will meet your expectations ♥ as always, i went a lil' overboard with rin's part. enjoy!

part 1 / masterlist

Itoshi Rin

rin was not a fan of social media. it was clear with the way his instagram only had 8 pictures despite being years since his career started, and even more so by the fact he had no other social media besides that. if he wasn’t so famous, people would say itoshi rin was a ghost or some artificial intelligence invention. 

it was one of the reasons people were very shocked when he started dating you, an influencer with millions of followers on every platform. rin was a private person, and you… well, you shared your life on the internet for everyone to see. to say you were polar opposites was an understatement.

however, you never forced your boyfriend to appear in any of your socials, only recording things for your own fun and memories and posting only what he allowed. rin was glad for that. he didn’t mind doing dumb things with you to see you smile, as long as the rest of the world couldn’t see how whipped he was for you.

also, you were kind of glad the professional athlete was so unaware of social media, because it meant you could do a lot of tiktok trends without the risk of him already knowing what was coming — which made everything more satisfying. 

and the trend you chose that day was especially good.

“hey everyone, it’s y/n here!” you chirped, waving your hands in front of your phone. however, you were actually recording rin, who was at the other side waiting for your sign to appear on the screen.

you continued speaking. “today i have a very special guest, who i’m sure you’re all very familiar with.” you gave the camera a little cheeky wink, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes with all your theatrics. “please welcome itoshi rin, my handsome husband!”

rin gave a step forward to start his way to you, but suddenly, his whole body froze, brows furrowing in what you could only call utmost confusion. silence took over the room for what felt like an eternity, and you had to suppress your laugh seeing the imaginary ‘loading’ wheel on his head.

rin.exe stopped working.

“baby?” you decided to intervene, honestly a little scared of how immobile rin was.

“you— i’m— did you just— did we—”

you could no longer hold your laughter, and rin’s favorite melody echoing through the walls of your shared apartment was probably what snapped him out of his trance. he immediately scowled and crossed his arms, cheeks burning red from his pathetic stutter.

“i am never doing these dumb videos with you again.”

“no, no, i’m sorry!” your giggles kept going, and you approached your pouty boyfriend, squishing his cheeks between your hands. the smooch you gave him was almost enough to make him melt. almost. rin still had some self respect.

he also didn’t want to admit how abnormally fast his stone heart was beating with the mere thought of being referred to as your husband — and, even better, referring to you as his wife. 

fuck. that certainly did make him feel lots of things. those stupid butterflies that were born the minute you met were roaming freely in his stomach, soaring with all the love he had harbored just for you. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” you said again, smiling like you swallowed the sun and all things good in this world. you might as well have. how else could rin explain the way you were his everything? “it was a prank i saw on tiktok.”

he arched his eyebrow, arms uncrossing to put his hands on your waist. “oh? so you don’t want me to be your husband?”

the itoshi was satisfied to see you flushing this time. “i— w-well, you see…”

and then you started rambling, just like you did every time something made you nervous. and rin could only look at you as if nothing else was worth looking at, because really, to him, it wasn’t. 

…well, maybe the sight of you walking down the aisle would get the cake. he might have to find out soon. 

Michael Kaiser

once you started dating bastard munchen’s star, michael kaiser, it was natural to have his world collide with yours. everything from football to blue hair dye to weird sleeping habits became a part of you as well, and you nourished every expanse of your world his presence alone was able to give.

your favorite part, besides learning all of him — his little habits, quirks and love languages that seemed to be crafted solely for you — was definitely immersing yourself in his culture. germany always seemed distant and quite detached from your life, and you loved to learn new things from different perspectives. 

food, traditions, language… michael loved teaching you things, giddy and secretly grateful for your excitement. it was his sparkly eyes that prompted you to learn a few things by yourself to surprise him and make him happy. 

the tiktok trend was just a nice coincidence. 

you phone was hidden on the kitchen balcony, camera recording and waiting for the moment your boyfriend would arrive in your shared apartment. luckily, kaiser was very punctual, and you didn’t have to wait much longer.

“liebling, i’m home!” you heard him scream from the front door, and you giggled to yourself, pretending to be busy chopping vegetables for dinner. 

you waited for his footsteps to near where you were, and, as soon as you felt he entered the camera frame, you answered:

“welcome home, ehemann!”

you didn’t have to turn around to see the way kaiser completely froze; arms stopping just before reaching your waist as if your figure was an illusion created by his tired mind. you fought hard to suppress your grin.

“what… did you say…?” his voice was low and uncertain, but there was no annoyance in it; just pure confusion. 

turning your head around to finally look at him, you were pleased to find your mikka with rosy cheeks and a bashful expression, so extremely unusual for a guy like him you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter on your chest. 

you gave him your best innocent look. “huh? isn’t that how you say boyfriend?”

“i-it’s husband, liebe. you called me husband,” his tone was still incredulous, and this time, you couldn’t keep your smile off your face. 

“oh, did i?”

your countenance seemed to finally snap him out of his trance, and michael’s eyebrows shot up, scoffing slightly — albeit still endearingly. his arms circled your waist and he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck. 

“how mean of you, baby. playing with my heart like that.” he trailed more kisses on your neck and jaw, making you squirm. “you tryin’ to kill me or something?”

you giggled again, both from the ticklish kisses he was giving you and the huge amount of love you had harbored just for him. “of course not, baby. i need you alive to make you my husband,” you jested.

“oh, yeah? you wanna make me your husband?”

“yes.” you shifted, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. kaiser hugged you a little tighter, feeling something fuzzy inside his chest. “is that a problem?”

“never,” he answered immediately. because it was true.

boyfriend, fiancé, partner, husband… michael didn’t mind what title would be bestowed to him — as long as he could keep being yours.

Mikage Reo

being the heir of one of the biggest corporations of the country and a professional football player made your boyfriend’s schedule pretty busy. therefore, thursdays like these, where you and him could have a nice walk around the park under the warm sunlight, hand in hand, were extremely rare — hence why they were so appreciated.

reo knew how much his frenetic agenda was a hard toll on your relationship, affecting both of you with distance, longing and short periods of time together. and, well, everyone knew how much of a goner he was for you, so it wasn’t surprising to see him give in whatever spare time he had in his hands — even going as far as making such time exist if there wasn’t any — to be with you for as long as he possibly could.

how could he deny your pretty little eyes pleading to have a stroll in the park with him ‘just for a few minutes?’

god, you were so selfless. he wanted to give you all of his minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. and for all that’s worth, reo would never deny you of such a thing — he’d rather shoot himself than make you think you weren’t loved with every fiber of his being.

the weather was nice; a gentle breeze kissing both of your faces and making everything more pleasant. you were both chatting and appreciating the calm environment when you spotted an old lady a few feet ahead, selling different colored roses for the passersby. a smile was etched onto your lips, and you impulsively let go of reo’s hand to run towards her. 

“why hello, dear. would you like to buy a rose?”

your boyfriend watched you beam to the lady and slowly approached you, though still keeping his distance and trying hard not to intervene and buy all the roses for you. 

“yes, please! a red one would be perfect.”

“oh, who will you give it to?” asked the woman, already taking one flower from the bunch to hand it to you. 

your smile became slightly more bashful, “it’s for my husband!”

and fuck, if reo wasn’t already completely in love with you and thoroughly believed you were his soulmate until then, he certainly would after that very moment. he could feel his cheeks burning and his tongue rolling inside his mouth with how speechless he became. his heart soared with your words, excitement coursing through his veins with a love so overwhelming he nearly fell on his knees right there. 

heavens, he loved you so fucking much. and you made him realize it was about time he proved it to you (once again).

his hands easily found his phone in his pocket, and a quick call to the jewelry store was made while you busied yourself with paying for the flower. reo couldn’t stop smiling like a lovesick fool, but he didn’t mind.

“hey, mr. fuji, it’s mikage! you know, i think it’s time for that visit i mentioned a while ago…”

he might not fall to his knees right there, but he would drop at one knee very soon.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fluff #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock scenarios #blue lock rin #itoshi rin #bllk #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi x y/n #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #mikage reo x you #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo x y/n #reo mikage x you #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage fluff

[toriangeli]

Armand's red flags in 2.02

You know how people kept accusing Lestat of isolating Louis from his family? And then Louis actually kept visiting his family, so if Lestat was isolating him, he did a really shit job of it?

Yeahhh. Armand shows us how it's really done.

Disclaimer: Armand is my favorite, precious boy, and I will defend his right to be as fucked-up as he damn well pleases, but he is indeed very fucked-up. So don't come at me accusing me of being biased in favor of Lestat (and even if I was, so what? this is Tumblr, not BBC News). I love Lestat, I love them all, but Armand is my trash son and if he isn't horrifically fucked-up on the show like he is in the books, it's a massive betrayal of the complexity of his character and the logical outcomes of his background. He hurts, and like any creature in pain, lashes out because of it. He knows how to do all kinds of diabolical shit, but he doesn't know how to be a person, and that's why I love him (trying to remember who the Youtuber was who said, "No one's a hero, everyone's a victim" about this series because they were so right).

First off, Assad is truly phenomenal at creating this effect:

If you don't suspect Armand of the shit he's about to pull, it's not your fault. This is how he is. Part of it is real innocence, in a way, or perhaps an inverse of innocence--he doesn't realize this shit isn't normal.

So it's very striking to me how Armand laid the foundation for his relationship with Louis so subtly and early on. He approached Louis in the park while he was alone, Claudia nowhere to be seen even though his invitation was for her as well. Claudia would ask questions. Armand wants to dangle the carrot before any questions are fired off. By the time anyone in the coven actually speaks with Claudia, she is already sold on them all. There is no time for her to form suspicions. With Claudia on board, Armand has free access to Louis. She feels at home with the coven, so she's not watching Armand too closely.

Then at the Delacroix mansion, Armand warns Louis against the rest of the coven. He says "a few of" the coven members are unforgiving, though he doesn't say who, which would be useful information if Louis is to defend himself (spoiler alert: it's all of them), just tells Louis to close his mind to the others. So Claudia is with the rest of the coven, while Louis is available only to Armand. Armand does not give this warning to Claudia. The only person she can hear it from is Louis, who she won't believe. They're now spending time apart, weakening the link between them. Armand knows he can seduce the hell out of anyone he desires, and once he does that, all he really needs is to break the filament binding Louis to Claudia and he's got what he wants.

He also warns him not to contact Roget again, which is probably good advice, but what Armand knows that Louis doesn't is that Lestat is alive. And Roget is the one person in the world Lestat would be able to contact if he could. So in the unlikely event that Lestat gets the chance to call Roget, Louis will not hear of it.

In just a few sentences, Armand has managed to distance Louis from Claudia, Lestat, and everyone else in the coven.

And how does he do it? By making sense, basically, by preying on Louis' preexisting (and sensible) fears about the coven. It makes sense for Louis to be on his guard. But Armand has set it up so he appears to be "different" from the rest of the coven, the only one Louis can trust, while issuing vague warnings about everyone else. And while Armand in the book is a pretty hands-off leader with the TdV, don't think for one second he can't do anything to protect Louis and Claudia himself. Here, he's acting like he has no sway with these people. He does. No matter what he says, he does.

So yeah. I'm really impressed with how smart the writers are being about this so far.

#armand #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #louis de pointe du lac #theatre des vampires #tayatra day vompeer #claudia de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #lestat does not think ahead far enough to be machiavellian #like fr #people are overestimating him #but also he's prone to throwing himself off the slippery slope from time to time and climbing back up in shame and regret #armand just does not know right from wrong #iwtv spoilers #iwtv book spoilers

[caitlinbueckers]

take care.

caitlin clark x reader type beat PART 2!!!!!!!!

6.2k (what the fuck)

ok. Listen!!!!!! This is long time coming and also is a disgusting amount of words and dialogue and like weird subtextual angst masked with smut honestly it’s pure delusion on a page also ending only slightly abrupt bc it was unfathomably long sorry

wasn’t gonna make the sequel so in depth like ??? How’d this one shot turn into a fic 😐 no Clue but all i know is that insecure sort of self deprecative caitlin clark with this soft dominance of a reader combined with two bitches who won’t admit their feelings is my crack!!!! let me know if a part 3 is even needed or if yall even care teehee

no beta simply just vibes

ANYWAYYZZZZZ love u guys sorry that i suck!!!

two weeks since you’d texted that number with your name, a simple contact, and she’d liked the message, and that was it.

it wasn’t like things immediately changed— you still, somehow, made your flight despite the throbbing headache that reverberated in your skull, and you still were able to make sure you didn’t leave a toothbrush or a stray apple watch charger in the hotel room but, miraculously, you find a way to not mention a single thing about your one night stand until you touch down at home; manchester, connecticut.

you tell your friends all about it— probably missing some implied understanding about nda’s— and pretend like it isn’t that big of a deal that one of the biggest basketball players for women’s college wasn’t knuckles deep inside of you only the night before.

but it’s a big deal. and you know it is.

like her breath, fierce and rampant with each spellbinding curl of her fingers, wasn’t startlingly still replaying in your mind, her mouth soaking in each warm, huff of air that you expelled in the form of a moan. like she hadn’t watched as she fucked you, dark eyes somehow impossibly darker as her biceps flexed, the line of thick, corded veins that traveled her muscular arms somehow jumping with each pump of her fingers inside of you.

that the same, somehow blushing girl that stood in the elevator had regarded you like something to be challenged, like something she could fight for. something she could win.

you didn’t forget a single thing. not in the way she leaned down over you as her fingers quickened their pace, the force of it eliciting grunts from caitlin’s mouth as she tore you apart, piece by piece, licking the remains as her teeth grazed over a nipple, the sensitive jut of your collarbone.

“so pretty,” she’d murmured against your skin, almost absently, like she didn’t even realize she’d said it. “you like that?” obviously, it went without saying that you did (very much), but really, you’d learned that she wanted to hear you say it. it was in the same way that - as she’d recounted to you drunkenly in a hotel bar that night - she needed to hear the audience cheer. that the fans hollering and shouting was when she felt like she was on fire. it was the external validation that urged her forth, amped her up, kept her alight.

somehow, you could see exactly how it applied to her then, her eyes quick to scan over your face— your lips, to kiss them, before she’d ask again, urgently, “you like how i fuck you? huh? tell me.”

you’d nodded furiously, words tumbling past your trembling lips, “y-es, fuck, yes—“ god, it would’ve been impossible to pull more than a few words from you with how wrought you are, body unrelentingly tense, shaking and weak until she’d coaxed another orgasm out of you, her name sounding broken on your tongue as her fingers slow, the unrelenting grind from the heel of her hand finally relaxing to ride you through it.

she was unforgivingly good with her fucking hands, you’d come to realize.

and yet, beyond all of that, much to your friends dismay, you don’t call her.

no, in fact, you mute her name on twitter and block the IOWA womens basketball page because it becomes suddenly like a frenzy. she’s everywhere, more than usual, like some sick sign from the universe and as much as it seems almost the complete opposite of how you really feel, you decide that you can never see her again.

it’s not like the sex wasn’t phenomenal, or that when it’s late and your hand sneaks into your pants, your imagination doesn’t always seems to conjure up tall, pretty girls with brown hair and green eyes, or that she didn’t completely captivate you from the moment she’d looked at you, dumbfounded and sheepish in an elevator with a blush staining her cheeks.

it wasn’t that. in fact, it was the complete opposite.

it was because the moment you’d seen a picture of her online after the fact, looking tougher than you knew she was, you’d realized that the last place you’d seen her was from between your legs, and it felt like a fucking soul crush.

because she was beautiful, and smiling, and playing up that celebrity, all-star mentality that you knew she could back up, but that you realized wasn’t her in the slightest. because now, you knew her— sort of— and saw her in ways that nobody else had— that you knew of. more so, that she’d learned your body in the span of a night and then just left, and somehow that just wasn’t fucking fair.

there was a shroud of mystery that surrounded her, even if she belonged to the world, to her supposed boyfriend, to everyone, really— way more than she ever belonged to you, even if just for a night.

so you go on about your life, and you pretend you don’t notice the draft is coming, or that soon, the already well known athlete was gonna be world renowned, taking her biggest leap to play professional, and you’d be nothing to her, nothing but the girl she’d screwed in a hotel room when she’d gotten too drunk after the final four.

and sure, you find solace in it. but there’s also this lingering, nagging feeling of being unfinished, like there’s still more. there has to be more.

so, no, you don’t call her.

but, somehow, you find last-minute tickets for the draft— which, in the grand scheme of things isn’t completely selfish. the moment you’d seen nika muhl and aaliyah edwards up for the league, you’d known that you were going to try for tickets. you just, probably, maybe, weren’t actually expecting to hookup with the projected top number one draft pick, either.

but you did, so, you buy them anyway.

you let your friends tease you for picking a dress that’s sorta slutty and for spending more time than you should doing your makeup at whatever hotel you picked in boston, only a few blocks from the draft.

all in all, it goes exactly how you expect. caitlin gets number one draft, which only slightly makes you antsy in your seat, thinking about the fact that she doesn’t know you’re there, that she doesn’t know you saw her win big and that she possibly could’ve been thinking about anyone fucking else. your favorites, nika muhl and aaliyah edwards, get teams that you’re more than happy to celebrate, and watch paige bueckers and azzi fudd get shoutout after shoutout. it’s good, it’s fun— but fuck it.

you think you miss her. maybe just her fingers, or her mouth, but you realize in a weird swell of recognition as the guests are ushered out, your head spinning back every few moments to see if you can catch a glimpse of her, that you do.

you miss the cait you’d met— you just didn’t know the one that sat in the room now.

then, it’s all sorta funny, in a way, considering the situation you find yourself in once everyone begins to disperse, limos and SUV’s pulled up and parked outside of the venue, crowds of fans standing around the barricades to sit for their favorite athletes to pile out of the doors, to go to some super elite, exclusive party that you knew you had no place at.

you don’t expect any special treatment, and you don’t expect a text or a call— which is good, because they don’t come.

no, actually, they don’t come until later.

later, after you’d spent the rest of the night in a nearby bar with a couple of girls you’d met leaving the draft. they’re funny and they’re nice, gushing about the picks, talking miles a minute about all their favorites and making you pretend that the tequila doesn’t burn just a tiny bit more when they mention caitlin’s name.

it doesn’t come until you’re showered, dressed in sweats and pleasantly drunk, scrolling through the shitty channels when your phone buzzes once, then twice, then three times and it almost makes you click the lock button, shove it over in assumption of your friends bothering you about an unsuccessful night to woo a pro athlete— but then it happens again.

you can’t really decipher what makes you look at the random assortment of numbers and it suddenly click. maybe it was because you’d spent the past few weeks in a complete back and forth, scanning over a crumpled napkin with the name ‘cait’ and these specific numbers beside it.

you know who it is, and despite yourself, your heart catches in your throat.

“hello?”

“you made it.” her voice is deeper than you remember, and it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks burn almost immediately. fuck.

“huh?” you play dumb, mostly because it’s more embarassing to admit that you’d came all this way for this, for the slim possibility that she’d fucking notice.

“tonight, i mean. you- i didn’t know— i didn’t know you were coming.” you stay silent, because what else is there to say? had she seen you?

but she continues, “you should’ve told me.” and then, “i, uh— i would’ve liked to see you.”

she’s pathetic, and so are you. a hand comes up to shove back your hair from your face, breath increasing only slightly. “i have a hotel, like, smack in the middle of boston if you’re… like, if this is an offer.”

now, she’s silent. there’s a shuffle on the other end, a murmur of a voice that you don’t recognize, before she’s back, her voice closer, softer. “yeah. yeah, i’d, uh, i’d like that.”

you open your mouth to say something, probably alcohol fueled and embarassed, but she’s speaking now, a bit quicker, “just text me, yeah?”

then the phone clicks, and for half a second, you stare at the home screen as if this couldn’t possibly be fucking real.

but it is, miraculously, and god, it makes you kind of fucking horny to think that she’s willing to see you at half past three in the morning, so your fingers fly over the keyboard in record time— a pin being dropped through imessage with a confirmed ping.

it’s fucking go time after that.

you find the lacy, practically nonexistent underwear you’d brought, forgo a bra entirely, and try to find something a little less boring than your sweatsuit, before you realize with a sickening realization that the revealing dress you’d worn for the draft was the outfit you’d expected to see her in, and as much as you cared, you kinda fucking didn’t— she’d been inside of you, by now. clothing didn’t seem as pressingly urgent as it would otherwise.

it’s only about twenty minutes before she texts you, a simple ‘here’. you send a brief message, just the number of your hotel room, and pretend like your heart doesn’t practically pound out of your chest for each passing moment, eyes flickering from the door, to the window outside, the city bustling even at a time like this.

she knocks only twice, and it startles you enough that it takes your breath away.

the moment the door swings open, it’s like a wave of calm washes over you, a weird sense of solace that you hadn’t realized she could offer, mostly due to the fact that before you stood the caitlin you’d remembered from all those weeks ago, after final four. not the exquisitely dressed, superstar you’d seen earlier that night, in shades and clothing that you could never afford with an attitude you didn’t recognize.

instead, she stands before you at her startling height, in sneakers, sweats and a windbreaker, a hood over her head and her hands tucked into her pockets. once again, looking impossibly small for someone of her stature and it takes all that’s within you to not kiss her right there.

“you got here quick.” you mention, still only slightly breathless as she offers a smile that resembles more of a smirk than anything else.

“i was scared you’d fall asleep,” and it sounds as sheepish as it makes you feel.

you step back, let her walk in and inhabit the space, only slightly making your palms sweat to have her here, in front of you again.

you decide to take the initiative to plop onto the bed, looking up at her as you toy with a stray string from your hoodie, “i wasn’t gonna fall asleep,” you retort, looking up at her, catching a glance that you don’t break, “congrats on top draft pick.”

now, she’s blushing, shaking her head and pursing her lips, “still feels unreal, dude.” she murmurs, looking down at her feet before slowly, her movements unsure, she sinks onto the bed next to you. “you’re unreal.” you say quietly, smirking at her, because you know how she’d cringe at it, scrunches her face before shaking her head. “god, not by a long shot.”

you open your mouth to say something else, maybe tease her about it, but she clears her throat quietly, “but i don’t, uh- wanna talk about that right now?” she offers a mirthless laugh, “is that stupid?”

she turns to look at you, and it happens to only be a couple centimeters from your face once you look up, shake your head “then we don’t have to.” you agree quietly, and it’s impossible to miss the way her eyes flicker down at your lips, back up to your face, and it’s equally as impossible to ignore the flip you get in your stomach before you surge forward to kiss her.

she kisses the same, tastes like what you remember, if not marked by whatever cocktails she must’ve had, whatever liquor still sat on your own breath, and it washes over you greedily that you do fucking want her— more than whatever you tried to convince yourself of during the past two weeks, more than what you’d downplayed to your friends.

“been thinking about you,” it comes out rushed, murmured against caitlin’s lips, shakily from your own mouth as she lets out a slow, wanton breath. you turn to crawl up on your knees, swinging over her hips to push her back against the bed.

she makes a noise like it stems from disbelief, almost like denial, but doesn’t pull away, not even once as her hands, fingers long and palms wide, spread beneath your sweatshirt, span across the expanse of your back and grasp.

“i did,” you insist between breathless kisses, foreheads pressed together hard as her hand races up the front now, over your stomach, palm your breasts and elicit a pitchy gasp from the immediate contact of her cold hands to your sensitive nipples, “every fucking day.”

“shut up,” she denies it again, which only slightly irks you because as cliche as it felt to say during a makeout, it’s not like you would lie about how much you’ve craved this— or more specifically, her.

you try to really expand on the thought, but it becomes almost impossible when her lips attach to your jaw, suckling until her teeth are teasing the sensitive, thin skin beneath your ear, and you make a noise too embarrassing to recount before you can gather your words. “…missed you.”

caitlin makes a noise in her own throat, something between a growl and a groan as she arches her hips up slightly to press against you, before she shakes her head, pulling back only to look up at you from your position on her lap with this sick, almost torturous gaze. her eyes are lidded and feverbright, cheeks pink, and lips glossy, kiss-bitten.

“you shouldn’t think about me.” it comes out quick with her breath, her thumbs still slow in the circles they rubbed around your nipples, making your head arch back with a whimper before you swallow hard, her words almost too quiet to hear, “not worth it to think about.”

the admission surprises you, “fuck off, clark.” you snort, the words fall lazily out of your mouth, “so humble, huh?”

she gets hot at that, and you can tell from the way her face is pressed into your neck, the way a heat radiates from her cheeks right at that moment that makes your stomach swirl, your own hands coming up to tangle into her hair.

“…i‘m serious.” she insists, still mouthing against the same area of skin that you knew would be bruised, and pretend like her totally incognito, self deprecative words weren’t somewhat confusing and worrying you.

she was fucking perfect, didn’t she realize that? how could she not when practically everyone else in the world thought the same? maybe you were being dramatic or maybe you were just horny, but it felt achingly real in the moment that she knew that, even if she wouldn't listen, even if you'd have to show her instead.

“cait, i’m fucking serious.” you counter now, using the hands in her hair to tug, exploring the reaction that it elicits, which is something that apparently caitlin enjoys by the soft whine that jumps from her throat, the way her breath quickens, the wide eyed look she gives you.

it makes your head spin, your thighs clench involuntarily. she seems so fucking innocent, and yet, all knowing at the same time.

“is that… bad?” you continue, your own head ducking to latch your lips against her neck, feeling her pulse jump beneath your teeth, “that i… touched myself and thought of you?” maybe it was the cocktails or the fact that this could be the last fucking time you see her, but it’s like word vomit— every thought and emotion that comes to you is spoken without hesitation, and apart of you wonders where you’d gotten such newfound bravery.

caitlin must be wondering too.

“not bad,” it comes out of her weak, weaker than she is right now, melting under your mouth and the tight grasp you have on her dark hair, the way each strand twines around your fingers to where even the most minuscule move of your fingers elicit a huff or a sigh, “it’s… fucking hot, what the fuck.”

it fuels you, in some way, to hear her validation. for some reason, you don’t try to hold off much longer— your own sweatshirt is being pulled off in record time, tangled in your arms momentarily and flung across the room as you go to reach for hers, “off?” you hum in the midst of the movement, to which she nods, quickly, obedient and yet, so unruly.

she was a dichotomy of everything she stood for. a shy girl pretending to be a superstar, and yet, even in moments like this, quiet and intimate, it felt like a superstar pretending to be shy. you knew just how easily she could unload, dominate the situation— pin you down by your wrists and eat you out within an inch of your life, because she had.

but now, she’s relenting, and it makes something within you burn, strengthening wildly to try and tame that beast that you knew sat fervent beneath her skin, to try and prove that caitlin didn’t always have to be caitlin clark, she could just be this.

just a pretty girl you wanted to fuck.

besides, maybe you were making up for lost time, returning favors you’d been too drunk and blissed out to give the first time around when she’d finished you off with fucking ease.

as soon as she’s exposed, her black sports bra yanked off with little effort to reveal her breasts beneath, pale and dotted with freckles, a red line from the band of it standing starkly against it, you find your mouth lowering to suckle on a spot near her nipple, teasing against the bud and licking gently at the skin until you hear her breath increase, breaking only slightly into a whine that makes you swallow hard.

you pull away, just to look at her— dark eyebrows furrowed, focused in a concentration that you can only discern as someone fighting for the need to control, to dictate, to display the same use of her strategic authority that she’s used time and time again on the court.

you decide in that moment, that you won’t let her.

“let me take care of you?” it comes out softer than you mean it to, and you can see the trust building within her, slow to register as safe— and you don’t blame her.

you both are practically strangers, knowing nothing of each other than drunken conversation that had turned too deep, nothing but the sound the other made when they came, the faces they made. it was intimately unfamiliar, and perhaps that’s where caitlin had found the solace.

maybe she knew that at this point in her career she wouldn’t have normalcy. it was practically impossible for any person knowledgeable in sports to not know her, or even just of her. to a further degree, even most, with the exception of being well versed in women’s sports, had at least heard of her, and that was simply a piece of herself that had been taken, one she’d never be able to retrieve.

but this, this might be the one standing, single piece of lucidity and realness that was hers— locked away in a hotel room in a city unfamiliar to the both of you, and it’s enough.

it’s enough for now.

“you wouldn’t even text me back.” she counters, but it’s clear in her tone, regardless of how ragged, that it’s to prod at you, and it works.

“shut up.” you murmur as you press your hands to her shoulders, push her back against the bed to straddle her fully as you brush your thumb over her abused nipple, reddened and too easy to bruise. she moans when you press on it, and it elicits a smirk to your face that’s impossible to hide. “you’re here now, aren’t you?”

for some reason, it causes a sad sort of smirk to her face that’s impossible to miss, regardless of how quickly she covers it with an exhale of want, one that you know isn’t feigned, “where else would i be?”

there’s a million answers to that. press, interviews, sleeping, with her fucking boyfriend, but you settle for a small smile, “good point.”

you hope it centers her a little when the bruising press of your fingers translate into something gentler, more of a caress against her chest that you trail up to her face, and it almost twists something inside of you to see the way her face relaxes, leans against it as if it was some type of treatment or medicine to some ailment you weren’t aware of.

you go to pull away, to begin working at the ties on her sweatpants to unwravel her even more, lost in the softness of the moment and yet still blinded by the hazy lust until she speaks, quiet and barely there.

“did you really think about me?”

it stuns you for half a second, because the simple confession hadn’t registered to you as something she’d recall, something she’d look to expand upon.

but you’d always been honest, brutally so.

“yeah,” you say it as if it was obvious, when truly it wasn’t, and more so, probably wasn’t reciprocated, “i had fun,” a gross understatement, a weak replacement for all that you really wanted to say. then, if not a bit more revealing of your inner voice, “didn’t you?”

caitlin makes a noise that resembles a huff, but it’s not impatient, it’s honest. you wonder how often she gets to do that. “you know i did.” it comes out like an admission of guilt, under her breath, yet her eyes are unrelenting as they are sincere and it makes your eyebrows lift.

it makes your breath halt slightly, “is… not having fun in your contract or something?” you lace it with a quiet chuckle, mostly because you don’t want to make it too deep, too revealing to ask, but part of you thinks it’s expanded beyond that already, had been since she'd called you at three in the morning, just to say that she'd seen you, that she wanted to see you again.

her hands rise from her sides to rest against your thighs, and the touch is welcome, one that you relax into before she manages a half smile, “might as well be.”

but then, you see that surge of confidence again, something in her eyes glimmering as she squeezes at the skin of your thighs, hard, but your eyes remain fixed, even as hers drop, almost shy in her show of strength. “it’s why… i’ve thought about you like, everyday since... final four?”

that certainly makes your breath halt, invoking a reaction in your stomach and between your legs that you choose to ignore as you swallow, thumb still slow in its brush against her cheek.

“yeah?” it comes out of you rough, and she grants you with a nod as a response, then, after only a moment, she whispers, an echo to your words from before. “so... is it bad that i missed you too?”

“god, shut up.” you repeat again, as if somehow that was a valid response to being told such a thing by a girl you’d only had met twice, by a girl you knew nothing about.

you wanna ask her a million questions, know anything and everything: ask her if she’s actually into girls, if she’s actually into her boyfriend. mainly, if she’s actually into this pedestal that she’d been thrust into, if the fame was too much, maybe if it was never enough.

but you settle for shutting her up for now, because you can see the way her chest rises and falls rapidly, can hear the strain that it took to admit, and you realize, selflessly, that maybe you won’t let yourself ask for more.

not now, anyway.

instead, you lean up, uncharacteristically tender as you slide your lips against hers, feels the way she relents against you, slow and subservient.

“can i show you how bad i missed you?” your fingers tease the edge of her sweatpants, and she lets out a creaking groan, head tilting back and eyes closing as if in exasperation, before she nods. “please.”

you get right to work.

it takes only a little bit of adjustment to get her pants off of her long legs, to reveal the simple pair of black boy shorts that she wore, before you can finally tease a finger against the soaked fabric, reveling in the wetness that you knew matched your own.

her hips jump up, caged in only by your legs as you arch your middle finger, riding the knuckle against her heat, watching the way her face twists only slightly, lips parted in silent noises that you wish you could beckon out of her.

it is fun, you realize in the back of your mind, to pull her apart like this. without the inebriation clouding your mind from the last time, you feel almost startlingly cognizant of your own movements, of her reactions.

when you finally pump your middle finger into her, you notice the way her stomach and abs flex involuntarily, the way her voice pitches up and almost keens in her throat, catching with every stuttered inhale.

when you lean down to press your lips against the slickness of her cunt, press the pad of your tongue to her clit, she says your name— loud. it’s something mixed between a whine and a plead, long, dexterous fingers tangling into your hair and holding on tight.

you devour her, tongue slow to slide against her slick folds, to feel the surge of wetness spill out around your fingers, mixed with your own saliva. you drink her in like she’s a potion, or an elixir, something that you swear you can find and savor if you just go deeper, harder.

it isn’t until you feel her thighs tense, clamping around your head as she lets out a sound close to a gasping breath, marked with a moan that makes your head spin— she sounds so fucking desperate, and you’re bound and determined to give her exactly what she wants. what she deserves, really.

she comes on your fingers, in your mouth, and you relish every bit of it, quick to clean up the excess with fervor. she’s sensitive still, her breath huffing out whenever you breach too close to her clit, but you’re gentle. that’s what this was all about, right?

it’s quiet after the storm, your wrist sore and mouth wet as you sit up a bit, eyes careful to observe how hard her chest rises and falls. the way her hair, having fallen from its loose bun, sat in messy waves around her face, nothing like the impeccably straightened strands you’d seen at the draft, and it sort of makes you smile in an off handed way that you can’t explain, especially not when she opens her eyes finally to look at you.

“quit.” she says, and there’s a smile, tired and breathless, teasing at her own mouth as the hand that had fisted your tangled locks finally released, dragging down the side of your head to push your chin away lightly,

you can’t help but snicker, raising a brow, “what?” she rolls her eyes, and you repeat yourself, this time with a snort, “sorry, you’re just— you just look pretty like this.”

it’s hard to pretend that something inside of you doesn’t wince when her smile drops slightly, and you pretend like it isn’t uncommon to compliment the stranger you just ate out with such sincerity and honesty.

she’s slow when she says it, “...you always look pretty.” and it sounds wistful, murmured in a way that you can’t help but flush a bit at, as you roll your eyes now as if to return the favor, “you’ve only seen me twice, drunk, in sweats.”

but for some reason, that makes her smile return and for half a second, you let yourself pretend.

that maybe, this random series of hookups between you two weren’t fueled by some weird attraction slash escapism slash secret infidelity that had to be shared between you, or tucked away from the world. for half a second, she wasn’t caitlin clark, women’s basketball superstar, future member of the indiana fever.

she was cait, a girl you’d met at a bar that you’d hooked up with who just happened to see you again, and maybe, if you were a little dumber, and maybe a bit drunker, you’d admit to yourself that there’s a part of you that likes her, and each time you’d thought about her in the past few weeks, it had become achingly apparent.

but, you’re smarter than that, and definitely not drunk enough, so you pretend that her next words don’t make your heart skip multiple beats, as if it doesn’t cause a flutter in your chest.

“still,” she scoffs, and she’s sitting up a little, her hand having laid lazily against her stomach, reaches over to grasp your wrist, almost absently, “plus, i saw you earlier tonight, in that dress?”

it shouldn’t make you almost stunned into silence, but it fucking does.

“sorry— not to like, be weird and say i was looking for you but, i dunno, i just— i remember you saying something about UCONN, so i just assumed you'd be ther—“

you’re kissing her before even you can register what she’s saying, or why she says it all in this shy, almost sheepish tone that fills you with a flood of endorphins, butterflies being set alight inside of you.

“god, you’re so…” you’re not sure where you’re going with it, but you can’t help the way your hand comes up to hold the side of her face, dip your thumb against her bottom lip as if to make her taste herself, all as your eyes watched, lidded and fixed.

then, you exhale, only a whisper, “i’m gonna get you in trouble.” you manage to say, despite the very obvious fact that watching her suck on your finger is doing unspeakable things to you, before you drag the wet digit out, her bottom lip pulling only slightly.

“with who?” she says it almost as if you both know the answer, both thinking about the multitude of bigger names and bigger people who had long since been the determinant in caitlin’s career— at least from the little that you knew— and it lapses you both in a measured silence.

until she speaks, and it’s quiet, and sincere. “you’re just like… the only thing in my life right now that has nothing to do with basketball.”

it's a compliment, wrapped up in something a lot more sad, a lot more sincere. it shouldn’t make you want to hug her, but it does, so, you do.

your arms twine around her neck slowly, your face lowering to bury against her neck, just beneath her chin, and you can feel her chest vibrate slightly with a chuckle or a laugh, before her arms are around you, squeezing you tight, “don’t go all sappy on me, dude.” she murmurs, but it’s present in the way she doesn’t pull from it, or really, the way she fucking clutches onto you, almost desperately, that you pretend once again that this doesn’t mean anything. that this is traditional, hookup behavior, and that once she leaves this hotel room, everything will shift right back into place.

a place where caitlin clark gets to be caitlin clark and you get to be you, and there’s no overlap.

except, that doesn’t happen.

no, instead, once you pull away from the hug she kisses you again, hungrier this time, her hands sliding from your back to your hips so she can hook fingers in the edge of your panties, urging you to sit up on your knees so she can pull them down.

instead, she lets you ride her thigh— both hands firm and strong, her own biceps lfexing to keep you glued to her thick, muscle corded thigh, your cunt unforgivably wet as she dragged your hips down, over and over.

your head tips forward to press to her forehead, and she kisses you through each desperate cry that escapes your lips, the friction and slide becoming wetter, slicker by the moment, drawing these high pitched noises from your throat that you know caitlin is drinking in, all while she murmurs to you in this soft little voice, “show me good it feels, lemme hear you.”

in the end, you both pass out there, somewhat in a laying position as caitlin lays on her back, arms loosely wrapped around you, who’s laying stomach down atop of her, a thigh lazily hiked up to hang against her hip, your face pressed into her neck.

it’s fucking bizarre when you think about it.

how you both had talked more than you ever had before, and when you look back on it in the morning, nothing but a ghostly reminder of her presence by the sheets that lay strewn about, the undeniable smell of sex and sweat that still hung in the air, you pretend like you don’t realize just how little you still knew about her, and just how much that you wished you knew.

you also pretend like you don’t miss her, or that when you’re gathering your clothes to check out, a soreness in your body unlike one you’ve really ever felt, you’re practically stunned to see her faded, gray, IOWA shirt, thrown lazily over the desk chair that makes you wonder just how accidental it was for her to leave it.

you wear it anyway,

it isn’t until you make it back to connecticut, making up some excuse for your friends as to how you hadn’t been able to meet up with caitlin, how she’d been too busy anyway and you’d spent the night drinking at a bar, that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of you that wanted to keep her protected, confidential.

maybe it was the post-sex fueled lust that wanted you to keep it close to your chest, a dirty secret only for you to enjoy, or maybe it came from somewhere softer, somewhere that remembered how caitlin had such little privacy, that it almost hits you like a pang just how much you wanted her to still have that, even if it was at the expense of not seeing your friends faces when you told them that you guys had hooked up, again. even if she'd never know that you didn't say a word.

fuck it. it’s the least you could do.

you try not to think about her for days really, not until you’re doing laundry and come across the grey t-shirt, deciding only then that you’d pull up your goddamn bootstraps and finally send a message.

it’s cheeky, the wrinkled t-shirt thrown on over your underwear, leaving your thighs on display and the peek of a hip that you know is intentional before you snap a picture, sending it with little hesitation, and subsequently throwing your phone afterwards at the bed.

“you left something”

cc loved your message, “you left something”

“i know”

“guess i’ll have to come get it back”

it’s stupid, you know it is, but it makes you smile, typing with an urgency only known when texting back the pretty girl you like, before you send it, bottom lip teased between your teeth.

“how close are you to connecticut?”

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark smut #wcbb x reader #guys is this gonna become a series #im scared #caitlin clark

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Part 2 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana has to play against her former club with your former team. You do your best to support each other and slowly become closer.

Part 1

A/N: It took me a bit longer to re-read and edit this than I thought since it made me emotional because of another transfer that I'm still in denial about 😭

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next part. I'm always happy to hear what you think or what you'd like to see in this story.

Just like you had hoped, Ana and you continued to hang out regularly. In fact you spent most of your days off together and even met up fairly often in the evenings, relaxing either at her or your apartment. More often than not you still couldn’t believe your luck that the Swiss woman actually liked being around you too.

You made sure to steer away from any deep topics though, keeping in mind that Ana preferred when you offered distractions when she seemed unhappy. It wasn’t always easy for you because you wanted to know everything about her and you longed to comfort the blonde when she looked at you with sad eyes. However you understood that she had other people, better friends, that she could talk these things over with.

On the other hand Ana with her sweet and caring nature always asked how you were doing and offered to listen to your problems the moment she picked up that something was bothering you. The desire to tell her everything was almost unbearable at times. You wanted to unload all the things weighing on your heart , well maybe not everything, you would never reveal your feelings for her, but other things like the situation at your club or with your family.

However you didn’t. You successfully kept yourself from spilling your sorrows to Ana. For one you didn’t want to burden the Swiss woman with your problems, she had enough going on without you adding to it. And also you didn’t want her to know that she was the only person you would actually feel comfortable opening up to. It was a painful reminder that Ana was so much more important to you than you were to her.

A few days before Atlético was due to play Barcelona in Madrid the two of you were hanging out again. You had cooked some food together and then settled down in front of the TV for the night. You could tell that the Swiss woman was having a hard time focusing on the show you were watching, even though she had picked it.

Ana kept sighing quietly and glancing over at you. You in turn did your best to distract her, offering up your thoughts about what you were seeing on TV. It was getting increasingly difficult not to ask the blonde what was going on.

‘She prefers a distraction. She doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not with you. What she wants from you is a distraction, so try to find some interesting or funny things to say for crying out loud!’ You reminded yourself over and over again.

You were searching your brain to find something good to say when Ana broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?” She asked timidly.

The insecurity in Ana’s voice took you by surprise, that was really unlike her. But you didn’t dwell on it; instead you quickly assured the Swiss woman that she could always ask you anything.

“Okay, so…It’s not really a question but a favor. And it’s totally fine for you to say no, don’t feel bad at all if you say no! Especially because it puts you in a bit of an awkward situation. You know what, I’m just now realizing how stupid and selfish this is and I just changed my mind.”

You reached out to place your hand on Ana’s thigh, hoping to comfort and calm the clearly agitated woman this way.

“Hey, don’t worry. Just ask me. I have no doubt that the answer will be yes,” you encouraged her.

There wasn’t a single thing you could think of that you wouldn’t do for Ana. Well maybe there were some things, most of them illegal in one way or another, but you doubted that the Swiss woman was going to ask for any of them.

Ana took a deep breath before rushing out her request, “Would you come watch our game this week? The idea of seeing all of my former teammates again really hurts and it would help me so much if I knew you were there. I understand that it’s a lot to ask because my team is your former team, so like I said…”

„Yes, of course I’ll come, it’s the least I can do,” you interrupted the Swiss woman.

Sure you weren’t too keen on going back to Atlético’s stadium and see all of your former teammates play together without you, but the simple fact that Ana asked you to come and even said it would help her, was enough to forget all about that. Who cared if it would make you a little sad? Who cared if maybe some people would come up to you and bring up the still painful transfer? You definitely didn’t, not if you had a chance to make the blonde feel better.

For some reason Ana seemed taken aback by your answer. “Wait what? It’s the least you can do? What have I ever done for you? If anything I owe you! You keep hanging out with me; you keep showing me amazing places here.”

You scrunched up your nose at the blonde’s words. It didn’t sit right with you that she made it sound like hanging out with her was a chore for you, not when it was the only thing that brought you any joy lately.

“But I love spending time with you!” You cried out, for once completely forgetting to add the obligatory ‘as a friend’.

A soft smile appeared on the Swiss woman’s face when she heard your words, as well as the indignation in your voice.

“The same is true for me,” she was quick to assure you, before focusing once again on her first question. She wouldn’t let you wriggle out of this so easily. “But seriously why do you feel like you need to pay me back in anyway? I don’t remember ever doing anything for you.”

Slight panic began pumping through your veins, as you scrambled to come up with anything better to offer up than ‘You hang out with me when you’re so much better than me and there are surely so many better people in your life that you could hang out with.’ That just wouldn’t do. It was one thing to be pathetic, but another thing to shout it from the rooftops.

“I didn’t really mean it like that. Just that I’m always happy to do anything for you,” you mumbled finally. This time you caught yourself however and quickly continued, “I love being there for my friends.”

Ana didn’t need to know that there was no one else on the planet you would do this for.

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” the blonde cooed, her compliment instantly making you blush. “And I hope you know that I’m always happy to do anything you need as well.”

You nodded instinctively, not believing it for one second. Not that you doubted that Ana would be there for you in a for a friend reasonable manner, but your commitment to her went way beyond that. There was very little the blonde could ask for that you wouldn’t do for her.

Thankfully the conversation moved on to safer topics after thi and you could relax once again. At least as much as you were ever able to relax around the woman you were hopelessly in love with.

---

When you walked to your seat in Atlético’s stadium a few days later you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. With every step you took it felt like the sadness inside of you grew, taking up more and more space until it was almost impossible to breathe.

This was supposed to be your stadium. Your teammates, former teammates you reminded yourself, had often called you the Alexia Putellas or Leah Williamson of Atlético Madrid. Someone that practically bled their team’s color, born and raised there, and honestly set on dying there too.

Not that you had ever been on a level comparable to Alexia or Leah, which had become painfully obvious when Aleti just dropped you like you were a piece of trash. You hadn’t told anyone this yet, but after that conversation you had seriously considered giving up football once and for all. The thought of playing anywhere else had been ripping you apart. But in the end the idea of not playing the sport you loved at all anymore had been even harder to bear.

You thanked your lucky star that you at least made it to your seat without anyone approaching you. At this point you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep it together if anyone spoke to you. Maybe the people around you could read as much on your face because you could definitely hear some whispering and felt a lot of gazes resting on you, but miraculously people kept their distance.

Although it was possible you were wrong about seemingly everyone watching you. You didn’t look around to check if the stares you could feel were actually real, instead you made sure to keep your eyes carefully trained on the pitch, avoiding making eye contact with anyone, which might inadvertently  give them the courage to come up to you.

So you sat there, totally rigid, every fiber of your body tense, wishing for the seconds to pass by as quickly as possible, but somehow that only made them crawl slower than a snail. Maybe you should just leave, come up with an excuse why you had to go. Was this really worth it?

You got your answer the moment Ana entered the pitch, looking around the stadium searchingly. The instant she spotted you a big smile appeared on the blonde’s face, all of the tightness leaving her body momentarily. 

Yes, this was worth it. Ana was worth this and so much more.

You kept thinking of the Swiss woman’s happiness and relief at seeing you when people got bolder during half time, walking up to you to tell you that they missed you at Atlético, that it wasn’t the same without you and that they would never forgive the club for their treatment of you. Empty words since they were here supporting them right now.

Not that you wanted them to turn their backs on the team. You understood having conflicting feelings, your own probably the most complicated of them all. Being back in this stadium you played so many of your games, made you furious and sad, but it also filled you with a longing to go back and brought about a sense of worthlessness. Why hadn’t you been good enough to keep around?

Despite Ana’s best effort to act nonchalant you saw the signs of her struggles clearly, even from the relative distance of the stands. So throughout the entire game you kept watching the blonde like a hawk, as if you could help her feel better about this by some sort of telepathic connection that required a laser like focus on your end.

This way you observed how tense Ana was when her former teammates hugged her, almost reluctant to accept the loving touches because she knew she wasn’t going to see them again anytime soon after this night. 

You also saw how lost the Swiss woman looked on the pitch when the game started. As if she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she was on the field with the Barça girls, but not as their teammate.

And you noticed that Ana avoided looking over to the traveling Barcelona fans until the game was finished, despite them chanting her name several times. Only once the final whistle was blown did she go over. It seemed impossible from your spot practically on the other side of the stadium, but you were sure you saw the Swiss woman holding back tears as she thanked them profusely.

You kept on watching while Ana talked with her former teammates. She smiled while chatting, but it was a smile filled with sadness. You briefly wondered if the Barça girls could see that as well. Did they even care? Even though you knew this wasn’t their fault at all, you felt an irrational anger towards them. How could they move on from Ana so quickly? They should have raised hell!

If you would have paid the Barça players any attention you would have seen the unhappiness and concern on their faces, clearly missing the Swiss woman a great deal. However your focus lay solely on the blonde.

The moment Ana disappeared into the tunnels, you also began making your way out of the stadium, keeping your head down and brushing off everyone that tried to initiate a conversation with you. They probably thought you were being rude, but you didn’t care. You were on a mission to get to Ana’s car, the agreed upon meeting point, as soon as possible.

If you would have stopped and thought about it for a second you would have realized that there was no way she would be there anytime soon. The Swiss woman still had to shower and stay around for the post match talk, so really there was no rush. Still, you hurried there as fast as you could.

And to be honest you also felt much more comfortable in the parking lot, an area off limits to the public, than in the stadium surrounded by so many curious fans. They had all been friendly and every single one that had spoken to you had stated that they were on your ‘side’, but nonetheless it was a constant reminder of your unwilling departure from your childhood club. And if it were up to you this subject would stay buried underneath heaps of pretending.

Therefore you worked hard to keep your mind away from your own dark thoughts while you waited for Ana, focusing instead on contemplating every possible emotional state the blonde could be in and how you could be a good distraction for her tonight. Because even though the two of you had to leave for your respective national teams tomorrow you had decided to spend the evening together, maybe even have a sleepover.

When the Swiss woman appeared, the first one from the team to get to the parking lot, she was a little out of breath and looked drained. Not physically, but emotionally. You debated giving her a hug, however Ana decided for you by walking directly towards the driver seat and slipping in without pausing for a second.

You assumed that she was just eager to leave, perhaps scared that one of her former teammates would catch up to her and would want to have a prolonged conversation. That was definitely something you were a little anxious about yourself with your own former teammates. Therefore the quick departure suited you just fine.

And when you caught a glimpse of some of your former teammates entering the car park as you drove off, you thanked Ana in your mind.

The truth was that the Swiss woman had actually done it for you. Throughout the night she didn’t have the same opportunity to continuously watch you as you had, but still she kept glancing over at you any chance she got. And Ana had noticed instantly that you didn’t feel comfortable, everything about your posture and your expression had screamed that you wanted to leave. So she had made sure to rush and get you out of there as quickly as she could.

During the car ride home you kept up a constant stream of light chatter, hoping that it posed a good enough distraction for your companion. Now that she was so close, you didn’t dare to outright stare at her like you had done during the game, but with some quick glances now and then you ensured that Ana looked mostly calm, not really happy though.

At your apartment you had everything waiting for a cozy movie night. You ushered Ana to sit down and relax, while you whirled around the apartment getting everything ready. It didn’t take long since you had prepared what you could before leaving for the game.

Once you sat down and flicked on the TV, turning to the Swiss woman with a slightly forced smile, you noticed that something wasn’t right. Ana was chewing her lips nervously, tapping the tips of her fingers together in quick succession.

“Is everything okay?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. “No wait, I’m sorry, forget that. Let’s just watch the movie, hopefully that will be a good distraction and if not, just tell me. Then we can try something else. Maybe play a game? Or just go to sleep?“

Ana sighed deeply, unhappiness etched on her usually so happy face. Anxiety began freezing your veins; you weren’t doing a good enough job at distracting her. You weren’t good enough.

“Look I know I said that stupid thing about preferring distractions once but I didn’t mean it. I just said it because…” Ana trailed off, looking very uncertain if she should continue.

“What?”

That was the only thing you could think of. The idea that all this time you hadn’t actually been giving the blonde what she craved most, felt like a stab through the middle of your heart. But even more so you wondered, if you hadn’t than why had she still been hanging out with you?

Apparently Ana decided that she did want to explain her reasoning some more. She took a deep breath before she continued talking.

“I only said it because I felt so bad complaining about my transfer to Atlético to you of all people. But I’ve regretted it almost every time we’ve hung out. Because I want to talk with you about it, I want to talk about everything with you. And most of all I want you to talk to me about your own unwanted transfer and how it makes you feel. But I felt weird pushing you to open up about it after I said I didn’t want to talk about mine.”

There was too much in Ana’s explanation that you didn’t know how to deal with, so you focused on the things that were easy for you, “You know you can always talk to me about anything. Please never feel bad about that, I’m always happy to listen! And don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine with my transfer. These things happen and it’s not like Real is a bad team or anything, so I can’t really complain.”

That was a flat out lie of course, you had been complaining a lot about your transfer and you definitely still had strong feelings about it, all of them bad. But Ana didn’t need to worry about that, not when she was struggling with her own club situation.

The Swiss woman scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your thigh. She looked at you seriously and you knew instantly that the Swiss woman didn’t believe a word you had just said.

“Don’t do that, please. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to feel bad after being dropped by your club, I know I do and my connection to Barcelona wasn’t even a deep as yours with Atléti.”

The softness of Ana’s voice combined with her words, words that you had been craving to hear for the longest time, brought tears to your eyes. You blinked furiously to get rid of them and quickly diverted your gaze, hopefully blocking the Swiss woman from seeing your watery eyes. Of course you had no such luck.

Ana closed the last few centimeters of distance between you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Still, you didn’t turn to meet her eyes. You were fine. The transfer didn’t bother you. At least not enough to cry about it to the Swiss woman.

“Maybe tonight we can just be sad together? I think we both need that,” Ana suggested, her voice quivering.

This made you look up. When you saw that the blonde’s own eyes were also filled with tears your resolve to be strong crumbled. If Ana needed this than you would give it to her. And if it just so happened to align with what you longed for as well that was just a lucky coincidence.

“Okay,” you mumbled and that was all Ana needed. She drew you against her, practically pulling you into her lap.

You held out a second longer but when you felt Ana’s body shaking from her sobs and heard her crying, you didn’t bother to hold yourself back any longer, letting your own tears fall.

And that’s how you stayed for a long time, the two of you falling apart in each other’s arms. You didn’t really talk about anything that night, simply relocating to your bedroom and falling asleep in each other‘s arms once all the tears had been shed.

That was a first for the two of you. At every sleepover before you had kept a careful distance, both of you sleeping on their designated side of the bed, but that night nothing was keeping you apart.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader

[nurse-sainz]

Broken Promises - Part 2

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Anon request: I wanted to make a request for an angst by Charles Leclerc, where they have an argument because he has been very distant but he doesn't want to accept it and end up saying hurtful things without knowing how to fix things later.

I took this request and ran with it deciding it would be a good continuation of this fic

Warning: mentions of crash, ICU and hospital stays. Angst with a sweet ending.

The evening spent with Max had been amazing, if you were being honest you dreaded going back to your apartment to the loud noise and people and just wanted to spend it by the ocean with him. He managed to convince you…or maybe it was the birthday cake that was waiting. It was definitely the cake. 

He led you back to your apartment and you managed to sneak back in, Arthur and Lorenzo had kept your guests entertained and told them you needed a moment. Turns out the break was exactly what you needed, and of course you were still mad at your brother but it didn’t matter tonight. You smiled as Max brought out your cake and you made a wish before blowing out your candles. The pair of you cut a slice to save to enjoy later when all of your guests had gone for the night. 

The next morning you woke up to a text from Charlies and your bad mood started all over again. 

Charlie: I hope you enjoyed the night, Arthur and Lorenzo said it was good. I’m so sorry once again. 

You didn’t care for his apologies. You were done with him and his promises. 

He must have seen that you’d opened his message but didn’t reply because the next thing you knew his caller ID was lighting up your screen. 

“What?” 

“Is that any way to speak to your brother, sœurette?” 

The tone of his voice just irritated you in a way only one of your brothers could. How could he speak to you like that after how he treated you yesterday. 

“What do you want, Grand frère?” You almost spat the pet name you use for him. 

“I told you I was sorry, y/n. Did you have a good time?” 

“No, Charlie. I didn’t. I wanted you there. You promised me. Arthur and Lorenzo were there and Max. The only reason I didn’t cancel was because he convinced me.” 

Charles knew there was no point arguing with you further when you were like this and he’d been beating himself up ever since he’d sent that text; but duty called. He had to work and he couldn’t get out of it, especially with how last minute his team had called him in. 

He sighed, “will I be seeing you at the race this weekend?” 

“Yes. Unlike you, I keep my promises. I’ll be there, but not for you Charlie. I’m going for Max.” 

“Y/n wait-” 

You didn’t bother listening to what he had to say, “goodbye Charles.” You hung up, cringing at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles. 

Max walked into the kitchen where you were sitting at the breakfast bar and kissed you as he passed. “Was that Charles?” 

“Yeah, just asking if I was coming to the race this weekend.” 

“You need to for-” 

“If you say forgive him so help me Verstappen,” you warned slightly playfully but also not wanting or willing to forgive your brother just yet.  

He held his hands up in surrender, “just, don’t give him too much of a hard time, he’s probably been beating himself up over it.” 

You knew Max was right, but still he’d hurt you. Two days later as you made your way through the paddock holding onto Max’s hand you decided to forgo seeing Charles, he was probably too busy anyway. You both made your way to the Red Bull hospitality tent avoiding Ferrari and Charles at all costs. 

Luck, however, wasn’t in your favor. Charles had heard about your arrival and seen it on his socials. He’d seen you in your Red Bull jacket and baseball cap, not a hint of Ferrari red on you. Usually you’d have a piece of merch from both of the drivers in your life, wanting to support the pair of them; but you knew this would piss him off. This was a final act of defiance to show how much you were still angry with him. 

You knew you’d gone too far when you saw a red shirt moving through the crowd of blue. Charles was in your face before you had a chance to react,  “Why are you doing this?” your brother asked. You’d never seen him look so angry and hurt; maybe now he’d understand how you felt the last three years. “I’m your brother and you’re not even supporting me, how is that going to look to the fans?” 

“To the fans? Is that all you care about? Maybe now you know how it feels to have your own sibling not show up for you. Besides, I’m not here to only support you Charlie, Max is my boyfriend and I support him too. He is just as important to me.” 

His face fell, “you know what? I’m done. Do whatever you want y/n but just don’t expect me to be okay with it.” 

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away. 

The few people who were around for your argument slowly went back to their business leaving you alone. Charles nearly slammed into Max as he left the tent to prepare for the race. 

“Charles?” He called but his friend ignored him. He turned back to see you nearly in tears and rushed to your side. 

“What happened?” he asked as he put his arm around you to lead you to somewhere more private, where prying ears couldn’t listen in. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just get you ready for the race, yeah?” You wiped your tears and turned your attention to him. 

You made your way to the monitors and placed the headset on your ears, standing with the rest of the Red Bull team as the formation lap began. Then it was lights out. 

Max pulled away first, closely followed by Lando, Carlos and Charles. They battled for first place as they inched round the first corner. It always made you nervous seeing your brother so close to the other drivers but thankfully they made it through unscathed. 

You could tell Charles was driving aggressively, the way he inched closer to the McLaren’s on the corners and pushed his car to the limit as he overtook them. You watched nervously, trying to focus on enjoying the race, Charles knew what he was doing. 

Suddenly, a gasp went through the room and time seemed to go in slow motion as Charles' car clipped the back of Lando's, sending it into a horrific flip. Charles’ car somersaulted through the air before it finally crashed down and skidded to a halt, only stopped by the wall. 

Your heart was in your throat as you waited for any signs of life. “What’s going on? Is he responding?” You asked as you all watched on in shock. 

“We don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You called back, you wanted nothing more than to rip the headset off and run to the Ferrari garage. You heard the red flag being called and the cars were called back to the garage, but your focus was on the screens as you watched the medical car rush to the scene. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but Max had made it back and was at your side. He walked you over to the Ferrari garage where you were met with red rimmed eyes as they tried to get any information from the track medics. Max could tell you were in shock. He kept tight hold of you, his touch a grounding presence as you waited for any news. 

One of Charles’ engineers made his way over to you and Max as he noticed you standing there. “The medics are with him now, he’s alive but he’s unconscious. They’re working on getting him out.” 

You finally let the tears you’d been holding fall. If it weren’t for Max holding you up you would have fallen to the floor right there. The race was called off, none of the drivers wanting to continue after that. 

You were in a state of panic, your breaths coming in short painful gasps. You wanted nothing more than to be with your brother. “I need to go with him. Let me go!” You cried. 

Max held you tight against his chest, his own face etched with concern for his friend. “We’ll go to the hospital. I’ll get us there, okay? He’s going to be okay. I promise.” 

“You don’t know that,” you looked up at him, tears still streaming freely down your face. Your mind was a whirlwind of guilt and worry. The last words you’d both spoken to each other ran over and over through your head. You couldn’t let this stupid argument be the last thing you both said to each other. 

When you got to the hospital, the news wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You wanted nothing more than to go into his hospital room and see him sitting up; to be able to tell him how sorry you were and how you hated fighting with him. The news wasn’t good though. Your brother was in the ICU, unconscious and his condition though stable was critical. You sat in the waiting room, your hand in Max’s as you waited for a nurse to bring you back to see your brother. 

Hours felt like days before a doctor and nurse finally approached you and Max. They updated you on his injuries and you were finally allowed to see him. Your heart broke as you saw him through the window hooked up to various tubes, machines and wires. 

You hid your face in Max’s chest as your tears fell once more, not being able to look at how broken he looked. You weren’t sure how you even had any tears left to shed. 

“I should have been there for him. I shouldn’t have said those things. He wouldn’t have been driving so recklessly -“ 

Max cut you off, “we all drive like idiots sometimes, it’s the nature of the sport. This wasn’t your fault. He knows how much you love him.”  

You nodded, knowing he was right but the guilt was still there. 

“Do you want to go in and see him? I can come with you or stay out here?” Max asked. 

You nodded and gripped your boyfriend's hand tighter as you both entered his ICU room. All you could do was sit and wait and pray. Pray for Charles to wake up, pray for a chance to make things right. 

You sat by his side, never leaving. You barely slept, your eyes fixed on your brother, willing with everything you had for him to wake up. As the days went by the news was getting better, the machine breathing for him was removed and he was showing signs of recovery, but he still hadn’t woken up. 

It was late into the third night when you felt his hand tighten around yours. You thought you had imagined it at first but your heart leapt when his fingers twitched around yours once more and his eyes began to flutter open. You jumped to your feet, tears flowing down your face once more but this time out of relief. 

“Charlie?” You called hopefully, your voice thick with emotion. 

Charles blinked against the harsh bright lights, disoriented but a small smile came across his lips as his gaze landed on yours.  

He coughed weakly, his voice raspy from disuse, “y/n?” 

“I’m here. I’m right here, Charles,” you reassured, smoothing his hair back. 

He looked at her with a small smile playing at his lips despite everything he’d just been through, “you’re wearing a Ferrari hoodie?” 

You let out a shaky laugh, tears still streaming down your face, “couldn’t exactly be representing Red Bull at a time like this.” 

He laughed, followed by a groan. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I am so sorry for everything. For my birthday and the fight…” 

Charles squeezed your hand weakly, “I’m sorry too. I should have been there, I promised and the fight at the race…I just wanted your support as well. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you.” 

“None of that matters now. I’m just glad you’re awake. I just need you to be okay.” 

Charles nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll be okay and I promise I will make it up to you,” he held up his pinky which you linked with yours. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, your hand clasped in his. Max stood at the doorway happy to see his friend awake and the pair of you making up. 

As the doctors finished their checks and left the room, you sat down beside Charles, holding his hand. 

“You scared the shit out of me, you know? Why were you driving like a dumbass?” 

Charles let out a small chuckle, “not my finest moment, huh?” 

“No, but you’re going to be okay and that’s all that matters. We can figure everything else out later.” 

Charles nodded, his grip on your hand growing a bit stronger. “Yeah, we will. Together.” 

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Together.” 

The road to recovery wasn’t going to be easy for him but you knew he’d be back to racing and annoying you in no time. He was going to be okay and you two would work through your issues when he was better. That’s all that mattered.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #leclerc!reader #max verstappen x leclerc!reader #mine #beth writes #my writing

[willowrites]

OMGGGG I HAVE A PERFECT REQUEST W AUSTIN BUTLER BASICALLY HIM GIVING Y/N PRINCESS TREATMENT

MY LOVE MY LIFE

PAIRINGS. austin butler x reader

SUMMARY. you’re austin’s princess, that’s the sum.

WARNINGS. nothing at all just fluff 💝

AUTHORS NOTE. this request is literally the definition of what every woman should be treated like obv given it’s reciprocated ofc!!! a bit short sorryyyy

WORD COUNT. to be counted

you were awoken abruptly by your own body.

you know that thing you get when you feel as if you’ve slept so peacefully for too long you feel as if you’re late to something someway.

that’s exactly what had happened.

you felt the sleep was too good to be true.

as you woke up you looked to your left to check your phone only to find a note on top of it.

be back in a bit, baby. i love you and good morning.

you set the note down feeling your face become hot. everyday you thought how did you deserve such an amazing guy like austin.

you truly did not know how you were able to be blessed with him.

you laid back down looking at the ceiling with a smile on your face.

a few moments later you heard your door handle jiggle notifying you someone was approaching.

your heart leaped as you knew it was austin finally coming home. you didn’t like waking up to his side empty and cold.

your shared bedroom door opened and in came the handsome man himself.

he smiled as soon as he laid his beautiful blue eyes on you. “hi baby..” he whispered walking into the room and closing the door behind him. “brought you something.”

he was holding a box in his left but his right hand was behind his back.

you sat up eager to see what he brought you. you were no stranger to austin bringing you surprises. he always did and even through your protests he still insisted because you were his baby; his princess.

“what do you have there?” you rose your brow suspiciously.

he pulled out his right hand revealing a bouquet of flowers of all your favorites.

he walked closer to you and sat by your side. “for you my love.” he handed them to you.

you took them with a beaming smile on your face. “austin…” you gushed feeling a bit of guilt rise. “you- you shouldn’t have seriously!” you had a sad smile.

“baby, i love you. you’re my princess.” he said while scooting closer toward you. he placed a hand on your knee. “you deserve to be treated exactly like one.”

he leaned closer and pouted. “now can i get a kiss?”

you smiled and leaned in connecting your lips.

“now aren’t ya gonna ask me what’s in here?” he asked wiggling his shoulders as well as the box he was holding.

“oh, my dear prince, what is in this box of yours.” you played along.

“oh m’lady, it’s only the finest dessert of your dreams! i figured i could order us some breakfast in bed and afterward you can snack on these while we watch something together?” he bit his lip awaiting your response.

“well but of course my love. i would love that.” you giggled bringing him in for another kiss.

after pulling apart he took one of your hands and brought it to his lips. he then placed a soft kiss on it.

“you make life worth living my love.” he whispered.

your eyebrows furrowed.

“i’m so in love with you baby. you’re it for me i just need to keep telling you. i can’t say it enough. you’re my beaming light. you’re my whole life. you’re my whole heart.” he kept kissing your hand over and over again.

you couldn’t help but start tearing up as you responded. “and i’m in love with you austin butler. you are it for me. i always knew you were.”

#✮⋆˙ 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 #austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler angst #austin butler fluff #austin butler x reader #austin x reader #austin butler one shot #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n

[seungrem]

Seonghwa (Ateez) x male!reader

Burying the Hatchet

request ~*+ - masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of ??

summary: Though rival mob bosses separating their territories by north and south, m!reader and Seonghwa frequently bump into each other at socialite events. With tension building up in m!reader’s half of the city, he needs decide whether or not to confide in his connections for support.

( overview: mafiaboss!seonghwa, mafiaboss!reader, both socialites and well known, reader controls the south, seonghwa controls north, associates/goons = mob members, Ricky (zb1) feature because he’s very mob coded, reader is lowkey tsundere, established non-romantic relationship w/ eachother, reader inherits wealth, the park family = seonghwa’s mob group )

( warnings: mentions of plausible violence (guns/fighting), blood, injuries (scrapes/bruises/cuts), hostile personalities, mentions of psychotic/psychopathic behavior, threats, cursing )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series )

-🧸 ( very light fluff )

🫧 ( pieces of angst here and there )

🪐 ( mafia / mob AU )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Chatter echoed through a ballroom bustling of attires fit for only the most affluent. If it were up to him, ☁️ would be perched on the mezzanine, people watching until the gala had concluded. Instead, he walked into room preparing a flashy smile to anyone who would have the misfortune of catching his gaze.

“Can I take your jacket for you, sir?”

As ☁️ awaited the host of the gala’s presence, a teenage boy wearing a tuxedo approached him. The boy flinched slightly as ☁️ turned in his direction, ☁️ assuming he was just someone who worked there.

“No- I’ll keep it, thank you. Could you tell me where Ricky is, though?” ☁️ asked, turning his attention back to the crowd of people in the distance.

Though the two were the same age (early 20s), Ricky had made a name for himself apart from his parents- unlike ☁️. The man had the city’s media in a chokehold, with news of his whereabouts and appearances circling weekly. In contrast, ☁️ had inherited his parent’s wealth and “business” after their passing. The public also kept a close eye on him, but for reasons less alluring.

“Last I’ve seen he was on the other side of the room beside the DJ. Here’s your pamphlet.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ replied, him then taking the paper and watching the boy scurry away. He sighed as he flipped through the pages, reading carefully over the guest list and seating arrangements.

‘What the hell is Seonghwa doing here?’ ☁️ muttered to himself before taking a few steps toward the crowd. Recognizing a familiar face slip out of the mass and approach him with a smile, he quickly placed the pamphlet into his suit jacket as he walked.

“☁️, how have you been?” Ricky called out, waving to the man as the two closed the distance in between them. It was then that the two embraced, holding each other for a moment more. ☁️ noticed Ricky’s navy blue suit had a velvet look to it, him feeling the texture as he held onto the man’s forearms.

“I’ve been great, how about you? And what happened to the blonde?” ☁️ responded, smiling and then pointing to Ricky’s hair. The last time that he had seen Ricky, the man had bleached his hair a platinum silver. Now, his raven-black hair was slicked back, with a few strands falling onto his forehead.

“I’ve been better, and my roots grew out so I just dyed it back to a natural color. But listen, before you leave tonight, I’d like to speak to you. In the meantime, you need to do your rounds.”

☁️ huffed, knowing that this meant he had to greet everyone.

“We’ll be fast.” Ricky assured, once again grabbing the man’s arm and escorting him through the crowd.

☁️ smiled, introduced himself, shook hands, and kissed cheeks more times than he remembered that night. Following a conversation with a couple, Ricky led ☁️ out of the crowd, the two now standing for a moment.

“We done?” ☁️ asked, exhaling.

“One more. You aren’t going to like it, but please be respectful. I don’t want my gala to become a war-zone.”

“Is it Seonghwa?”

“Yes. But-“

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“I do business with him just as I do with you. I’m prompting neutrality.”

“Understandable. But why do I gotta go over to him?”

“Because you two aren’t going to mean-mug each other all night like you did last year. That caused problems, did it not?” Ricky led ☁️ to his table, the two sitting beside one another.

“I don’t even have my guys with me tonight.” ☁️ argued, though he knew was simply delaying the inevitable.

“Neither does he. It’s invitation only this time.” Ricky’s tone was calm and fresh, though firm. ☁️ didn’t want to push his buttons, ultimately deciding to get it over with.

“Alright, let’s go.” ☁️ straightened his tie and stood up, Ricky following.

“Last I saw him he was standing beside the DJ’s stage. Let’s walk behind it.” Ricky said, motioning ☁️ to follow him.

The two tiptoed around the DJ’s elevated setup, emerging on the other side of the room after carefully stepping over wires and boxes.

“There he is. Behave, please.” Ricky whispered after leaning into ☁️.

“Always.” ☁️ muttered back before noticing that Seonghwa had three of his goons around him. The man leaned his back against a column and looked around the ballroom. He wore a bold outfit- a shiny gold top (that exposed some of his cleavage) with a brown fur coat and grey dress pants. His hair was in an up-do with strands hanging in front of his eyes, and silver chains dangled from his neck. ☁️ thought that Seonghwa was insanely hot, especially in this outfit, but would never vocally admit it.

“You said invitation only, Ricky.” ☁️ muttered through his teeth.

“It was... Let’s just make this quick.”

As the two approached Seonghwa, two of his goons noticed and walked over to his side.

“Seonghwa. I’m sure you remember ☁️.” Ricky chirped, hiding his nervousness very well. ☁️ and Seonghwa stared at each other for a few seconds before ☁️ forced a smile and held out his hand.

“I’m sure you’re well.” ☁️ remarked dully, watching as Seonghwa took his hand and squeezed. It took everything in ☁️ not to call him an asshole, but Ricky was luckily there to mediate.

“I am. It seems like you’re here alone tonight.. what a shame.” Seonghwa replied in his usual deep voice, ☁️ watching the man look him up and down.

“I’m here to donate to a charity, not intimidate socialites with my goons.” ☁️ kept a straight face, but wanted to laugh in Seonghwa’s face. “And you look rediculous.” ☁️ whispered after leaning into Seonghwa, only taking a step back when Ricky grabbed his arm and muttered a ‘Jeez.’ Seonghwa sneered and looked around in response, licking his teeth as he nodded in amusement. ☁️ could tell he was already ticked off.

“I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Seonghwa nodded his up as he spoke, patting ☁️ on the arm and nodding to Ricking before departing to his table with his goons.

“You couldn’t have made that any worse.” Ricky whined, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at ☁️.

“Somebody has to humble him.”

“I don’t want any bad blood here, ☁️.”

“I said that I understood. If he can’t take criticism then maybe he shouldn’t be The North’s premier mob boss.”

“Well Southside’s premier mob boss seems to not know how to behave.”

“I was-“ ☁️ paused. “Well… He’ll be fine.”

“Right.. I’ve been meaning to talk to him so I’m going to do that now. The service should begin in the next few minutes. Make some friends while you’re here, you need them.” Ricky said before he began walking away. ☁️ gasped teasingly, the two smiling to each other as the distance in-between them grew.

—

His footsteps tapping up the staircase’s crimson-colored carpet, ☁️ was on the hunt for someone specific. He stepped onto the mezzanine and walked over to the beige railing, him then leaning against it. Scouring over the many faces on the dance floor and sitting at tables, ☁️ found that Seonghwa was nowhere in sight despite having seen him before the service had begun. Assuming that the man had left early, ☁️ frowned and turn around.

“Whatcha doin’?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the wall a few feet in front of ☁️. The man’s goons weren’t next to him, but ☁️ could see them on the other ends of the mezzanine through the corner of his eye.

“I was looking for you. Have a minute?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and walked over to ☁️, standing beside him.

“Make it quick.” He muttered, looking down at the people below.

“I received this letter a few days ago. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it.” ☁️ pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Seonghwa.

“People still write letters?” Seonghwa said with a scowl, pulling a piece of paper out of the envelope.

“So is it safe to assume that you weren’t the one to send it?”

Seonghwa took another minute to analyze the letter.

“No.. not my style... Whoever did hates you, though.” Seonghwa whispered, handing the piece of paper and envelope back to ☁️. “What’s the red stuff at the bottom? Don’t tell me it’s blood.”

“It is. Instead of signing a name, the blood is suppose to be the signature. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Wow.. you really pissed someone off. Did you figure out whose blood it is?”

“Mine.”

Seonghwa laughed and turned to ☁️.

“So someone wrote a letter threatening you, somehow got ahold of your blood and smeared it onto the paper, and then mailed it to you?” Seonghwa shook his head with a smile. “Good luck, really. You need it.”

“I thought that you’d be more helpful. That’s all I needed, though. Have a good night.” ☁️ said, turning to walk away. Seonghwa quickly gripped his shoulder and stopped the man in his tracks. ☁️ to looked over his shoulder somewhat menacingly.

“Do you need help? Seriously.” Seonghwa’s unserious smile quickly turned into an expressionless display of concern, as he slightly leaned into ☁️.

“Never will I need your help. Stay on your side and I’ll be fine.” ☁️ quipped, brushing Seonghwa’s hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. He stopped upon hearing Seonghwa continue.

“I hate you.. but don’t die, please.”

“The hell are you talking about?” ☁️ snapped, looking over his shoulder again.

“That’s psychotic behavior, ☁️. You can’t just have one of your guys find and take care of ‘em.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t just some guy on the street.”

“No shit.” ☁️ rolled his eyes. “I have to go, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa remained silent, watching as ☁️ strolled back down the staircase.

“How the hell did they know it was there?” ☁️ walked up the stone walkway to his home, with two of his associates following beside him. The mansion had been broken into, with a suitcase full of hard drives having been taken from ☁️’s chambers.

“Respectfully sir, we suspect a mole in the group. After the passing of your parents, the associates haven’t necessarily been well-monitored.” The older man beside ☁️ replied, opening a door for him as the three arrived to the entrance.

“Please get in touch with the gentleman who set the security systems up.” ☁️ paused as he stepped inside. “Actually, I’ll just do it. You two should go home for the night.”

“But sir, we really think someone should stay with you until everything’s resolved.” The second associate replied, following ☁️ as he unbuttoned his suit jacket in the spacious living room. The room glowed in orange and yellow hues from the lit fireplace. ☁️ sighed and turned to his two henchmen, a sense of nervousness trickling down his spine. He wondered if he could trust them, but also wondered if there truly was an outsider out to get him as Seonghwa suggested.

“I’ll take care of myself and this.. situation. Please, go home.”

“At least let me contact the programmer. I’ll get him here as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

1 week later

“Two events in a row? This must be a record.”

☁️ felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Seonghwa smirked, looking ☁️ up and down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Wasn’t sure why you invited me.” ☁️ replied, crossing your arms.

“Oh, here I thought that you wanted to support charities..”

“You held a gala one week after Ricky and invited me on short notice.”

“Seems that I did. So?”

☁️ exhaled. “Thanks but I should go.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa held his hand out to stop the man. “I heard things weren’t going well on your side of the city. You sure you don’t need help?”

☁️ looked around the crowd of people surrounding him. This ballroom was smaller than the previous gala’s, but just as loud. ☁️ leaned into Seonghwa, who reacted by leaning forward as well.

“If I find out that you’re playing me again, it won’t end up for you.” ☁️ murmured into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa leaned back up, with a seemingly offended expression.

“Are you accusing me of what’s going on?”

“No, simply warning you- just in case. I need to go.”

“☁️.”

☁️ turned around and slid past people to get out of the crowd.

“☁️!!”

☁️ froze as the room went silent. Everyone turned to Seonghwa as ☁️ slowly turned around to glance back at the man. An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds, with Seonghwa not taking his eyes off of ☁️. After the chatter picked back up, ☁️ continued out of the room, leaving an abandoned Seonghwa alone on the dance floor.

☁️ walked through the hallways and toward the glass double doors, waving down a bellman as he did so.

-

A few photographers stood behind red ropes, clicking their cameras immediately after ☁️ began descending quickly down the white staircase. A few began shouting out to him.

“Hey, ☁️! What’re you doing in The North?”

“Have you and the Park family finally made amends?”

“You look great tonight, ☁️!”

☁️ smiled and waved as a bellman pulled to the curb with his grey sports car, getting out as soon as ☁️ reached the sidewalk. The bellman handed the keys to the man as the two walked past each other, ☁️ then jumping into the drivers seat.

“Hey, Mr. ☁️. The programmer was able to stop in today.”

“That’s great, has everything been recovered?” ☁️ responded as he walked into his home, an associate beside him.

“He said he needed a password.”

“To the computer? Why didn’t you call or text me? Is he available tomorrow?”

“He’s still here, just using the bathroom. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived after you put your password in.”

☁️ looked over to the associate after hanging his suit jacket up.

“It’s midnight.”

“It’s the only time he could come this week.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow and walked to his chambers past the living quarters and down the hall. After his shoes tapped echoed through the hallway, he leaned into the double doors, pushing them open. The lamp on his desk was already turned on at the other end of the room. ☁️ also noticed that the associate was still behind him, him turning to the man before walking inside of the room. He was suspicious at this point, hearing more voices in the living quarters.

“Why don’t you go let the programmer know that I’m back. Please tell the other associates that they’re good to go, as well. I don’t need anybody here right now.”

“You want us to leave you alone with the programmer? What if he tries to-“

“That’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ narrowed his eyes, allowing his voice to become slightly belligerent.

The associate sneered and nodded, turning around and walking toward the living quarters. ☁️ sighed and closed the chamber doors behind him, walking toward the desk in front of the large stain-glass window. Bookshelves covered the left and right walls, and though the room wasn’t huge, the ceiling was very high up.

☁️ walked around the other side of the desk, sitting down and tapping the computer’s keyboard to turn the device on. He didn’t put his password in, choosing to wait for the programmer to arrive. Another thirty seconds passed before the oldest associate opened the room’s doors, walking in.

“☁️. Do you have a moment?”

“Where’s the programmer?”

“I think he’s still talking to the other associates. I think we should speak in the meantime.” The associate called out, standing at the door.

“Come.”

The associate strolled slowly over to the side of ☁️’s desk.

“What did you want to talk about.” ☁️ asked, giving the man his attention.

“You know, your father and I were extremely close. He entrusted me to do everything beside him.”

“Yes, I remember.” ☁️ nodded, tilting his head to the side.

“He also hated the Park family with every fiber of his being. And I know that you’ve been going out of your way to attend Seonghwa’s galas.”

“To support his charity and rebuild my family’s reputation. Yes.”

“Do you think that your father would’ve wanted this? To knock down the legacy that he has built?”

“Excuse me?” ☁️ snickered. He felt his body become tense, and his tone dull.

“I just think that with you as the head of this.. well, what used to be a mob group, you’ve dug our reputation into ground.”

☁️ felt his body heat up, making him stand up and grab the associate by the collar. The associate responded by pulling a gun out from his back pocket and pointing it at ☁️’s head. ☁️ exhaled and let go of the man’s collar, putting his hands to his sides.

“You need to give this up, ☁️. It’s in your best interest. Your father wouldn’t want this.”

“And his inability to be harmonious with other people is what got him killed.”

“Put your password into the computer so I can put this gun down.” The associate muttered, tapping the gun against ☁️’s head.

“No.”

“Please don’t make me do this.”

☁️ laughed.

“You’re not gonna have the password if you do ‘this.’”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, then.” ☁️ laughed again, pausing before quickly shuffling to the side and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The gun landed on the desk and slid across it, falling off on the other side. ☁️ leaped over the desk and grabbed the gun before the man could snatch it, ☁️ then kicking his knee out while still on the ground. The associate quickly stood up and ran toward ☁️ as he got on one a knee. With a loud bang, ☁️ shot the pistol, hitting the associate in the leg. The man fell to the ground and clutched his knee.

“Fuck.” ☁️ muttered under his breath, putting the gun on safety mode and into his pocket. He grabbed his computer from the desk and threw it through the stained-glass window, shattering it. The door then slammed open, with a bunch of ☁️’s members running in. After seeing the older associate on the ground, the group whipped their guns out and pointed them at ☁️. The man was already halfway out of the window at this point, him having jumped through the hole and falling into the bushes below. With scrapes and bruises along his body, ☁️ rolled out of the bush and secured the laptop beside him- though he presumed it broken. He shot up and ran alongside the mansion’s side, hopping over the iron fencing as soon as he reached the front of the building. ☁️ considered taking one of his cars, but quickly realized that the keys were still inside.

Continuing to run through the forest, he eventually emerged into the city after a few minutes. ☁️ noticed a university campus in front of him as he wandered, him power walking through it and waving a taxi down. He ran to its side and jumped in, him recognizing the driver as he did so. The two stared at each other through the rear view mirror before the driver smiled.

“Oh, right- you’re ☁️. I worked a lot with your father.”

☁️ froze with his hand on the car’s handle, preparing to run out.

“Your family has helped mine out a lot. But anyway, where to?”

“Can you just drive, please?” ☁️ asked nervously, his hand still on the handle.

“Sure thing.”

The two drove in silence for a minute before the driver pulled up to a red light.

“You alright? You look pretty disheveled there, chief.”

“Yes, just some work issues.”

The driver chuckled. “Your dad had the same problem. I’d always wait a block or two away after he handled business, and he’d come running over with ripped clothing and red fists.” He paused. “I’m a bit relieved that the whole mob business thing is dying, though. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

☁️ pondered his words, repeating them in his head before responding. “..Yeah, I’m relieved as well. Can I bother you to drop me off in The North?”

“Oh, sure. I heard that you buried the hatchet with the Park family. That true?”

“I think that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“I see. Is there somewhere specific in the North?”

“Do you know where that gala was held today?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll have you there in a few.”

“Thanks.”

-

“Well, it’s an honor to help you through this last hurrah. I hope it goes well.”

“Thank you sir. How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t look like you have anything on you, respectfully. Just get me back next time you see me.”

☁️ nodded and slowly turned around toward the large building in front of him. There were no photographers, no red ropes, and no people wandering around at this point. With his computer under his arm, he began up the steps.

Upon walking through the glass doors, a receptionist was packing her belongings in a large purse.

“Oh, Mr. ☁️. Are you looking for the gala’s after party?” She asked as the man approached her desk.

“Ah- yes, I am. Can you tell me where it is?”

“It’s down the hallway to your left, the last door down. Also.. you’re bleeding a bit..”

☁️ looked down to where she pointed, seeing small patches of red stain through his white button-up shirt.

“Oh.. yeah, it’s just part of the outfit. Thank you though.”

“Oh, ok.. Have a goodnight.”

“You as well.”

☁️ continued down the dark hallway, stopping in front of a frosted glass door with loud music playing behind it. Streaks of blue, pink, and white flashed across the glass as he pushed the door open. The room was pretty big, with confetti and balloons spread across the floor. A group of around a hundred people danced in front of a smaller DJ booth, with a few wallflowers conversing amongst each other with glasses in their hands. ☁️ walked over to a table full of champagne glasses, grabbing one and sitting in the nearest seat against the wall. He plopped down, leaning his head against the wall and chugging the glass. He looked around, though couldn’t see Seonghwa from where he was. It didn’t help that the room was somewhat dim, with pink lights illuminating half of the room from behind the DJ. Spotlights also casted quick flashes on the dance floor, them occasionally dancing across ☁️’s body as he sat.

Choosing to calm down before searching for Seonghwa, he opened his computer and tapped the keyboard. Surprisingly, it survived the seven foot fall and still worked- the only flaw being a few cracks in the top corner of the screen and a few missing buttons on the keyboard. ☁️ sighed and placed the computer on his lap, him then closing his eyes. 

-

“Psst. Hey, sleepy head.”

☁️ heard someone whisper from beside him, making him jump. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing Seonghwa sitting beside him. He clutched his computer and looked around, seeing that everyone was preparing to leave the party. The music had stopped, and a few workers were vacuuming the carpet. Seonghwa’s face was barely visible in the dim, pink lighting, though his voice was softer than ☁️ had recalled. “So, you came back..?”

“…I think I need your help.” ☁️ hummed.

Seonghwa smirked. “I won’t rub it in your face even though I wanna. Do you need a place to stay?”

☁️ nodded, standing up as Seonghwa did. Seonghwa placed a hand on ☁️’s back, guiding him to the exit. The flashing lights turned into white spotlights that illuminated the exit at this point.

The two followed the crowd out of the room and down the hallway. As they walked out of the glass doors, ☁️ recognized the cars lined up on the sidewalk, with multiple bellman awaiting the guests at the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re all the way in the front.” Seonghwa stated, walking down the staircase with ☁️ and turning right down the sidewalk. A bellman approached the two, handing Seonghwa a pair of keys. He unlocked the red sports car and removed his hand off of ☁️’s back, hurrying in front of the man to open the vehicle door for him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and attempted to hide a smile as Seonghwa gestured him inside. As he sat down, ☁️ covered the patches of red along his top with his arms and hands. Seonghwa shut the door and ran to the other side, him hopping in and hurrying to start the car. After a few seconds, the two were speeding through empty city streets.

“Have you ever been to this part of The North?” Seonghwa asked with a tender tone, turning to ☁️ as he pulled into a lofty condo complex’s garage.

“This is my city. Of course I have.”

“Our city.” Seonghwa retorted.

☁️ smiled at the answer, opening his door after Seonghwa had parked on the highest level.

“We’ll have to take the elevator to the lobby, and then we’ll take a different one to my place.” Seonghwa stated from the other side of the car. ☁️ waited for Seonghwa to lead the way, but upon standing beside ☁️, the man froze.

“What the hell happened?! You’re bleeding.”

“I know.” ☁️ sighed, him having forgotten to cover the red stains.

“You’re explaining everything once we get inside.”

“Ok.”

Seonghwa linked his arm with ☁️’s, ☁️ speculating that Seonghwa thought he was too badly injured to walk by himself, which elicited the act.

The two quickly reached the elevator and stepped inside. With mirrors along the walls, a gold accent lined the corners of the elevator. Seonghwa leaned forward to press a button, and the two were soon moving up.

“Are you tired?”

“Extremely.” ☁️ replied monotonously.

“I could tell by your tone. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep in my guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the guest room.”

“No. You can take the bigger bed.”

☁️ was too tired to argue back, instead choosing to lean against the mirror as the elevator continued. After a few more seconds, the door buzzed and the two walked through. The lobby’s lights were dim and the spacious room was empty. The men walked across the marble floor to another elevator, Seonghwa pressing the button again though the elevator doors opened immediately. The two walked through, and Seonghwa pressed the button of the highest number- 16.

“You’re on the highest floor?”

“Yes. It’s a penthouse with lots of windows , you’ll like it.”

The two stood silent for a few minutes until the elevator buzzed again, the men stepping out into a small walkway. Taking a few steps forward, Seonghwa flipped a switch, which turned on a small lamp above the two of them. He then pulled out his keychain, picking out a key and twisting it into the black door.

“After you.” Seonghwa said, gesturing ☁️ forward. Seonghwa’s penthouse was full of monotonous colors and exotic furniture- definitely a reflection of his personality. Small lamps lit the space as the two walked into the living room area. Large windows sat on each side of the walls, with the moon peering down from the large skylight above.

“I do like it.” ☁️ murmured as he moved his arm away from Seonghwa’s. Seonghwa simply smiled in response.

“Let me show you to the room.”

“Show me the guest room.”

“No.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, following Seonghwa down the end of the hallway. He switched his lamp light on, it illuminating the large bedroom. The walls, bedsheets, and furniture were all visually-pleasing shades of grey. The windows on the right side of the room touched both the floor and ceiling, stretching across most of the wall to reveal a beautiful view of the city. To the left, a door led into another room.

“Just sit on the bed. I’ll get you some new clothes and medical stuff.” Seonghwa instructed, walking into the bathroom. ☁️ walked to the bed and sat, him waiting for the man to come back out. After a minute, Seonghwa walked toward ☁️ with a small bottle, cotton balls, along with a roll of bandages and placed it beside ☁️. He then trudged over to the wardrobe across from his bed, opening it and throwing a pair of green and blue pajama pants with a white tee onto the bed.

“Those are old so they should fit you. Do you want me to get out while you change?”

“I don’t care, just turn around.” ☁️ replied taking off his pants and unbuttoning his top as Seonghwa faced his wardrobe. He threw the man’s pants on but put the tee around his neck, exposing some of his stomach and arms.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa turned around and sat on the bed. ☁️ pushed the shirt away from his arm for Seonghwa to clean.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

“My associates tried to overthrow me and take over my company’s accounts. They said I wasn’t being a mob boss.”

“Is that where the letter was from?”

“I think they’ve been planning this for a few months now. They probably got ahold of my blood after your guys tried to take over my company’s building. Your goons show no mercy.” ☁️ chuckled, but Seonghwa frowned.

“I didn’t initiate that, by the way. That was my father, and we’ve.. talked about it.”

“It hasn’t happened again, so I don’t care.”

After a few seconds of silence, Seonghwa continued disinfecting, and then wrapping ☁️’s arm.

“So what specifically happened?” Seonghwa asked.

“Well, I got home from the gala. I was told someone was coming in to help me retrieve missing data from drives that were stolen after Ricky’s gala last week. I’m pretty sure they lied, and one of my guys cocked a gun at me and told me to unlock my computer so they could use the drives they stole. I didn’t do it obviously, and I ended up shooting him. The gun probably fell out of my pants when I jumped out of the window and ran into the city.”

“You jumped out of a window?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly worried. He wrapped the bandage around ☁️’s arm and clipped it so that it stood in place. ☁️ lifted his pant leg up to expose another cut, him then scooting back on the bed to put the cut beside where Seonghwa sat.

“Do you mind?” ☁️ asked, looking over to Seonghwa.

“Not at all.” He replied, preparing another cotton ball to use.

“And.. yeah, I kinda did. It was only six or seven feet and I landed in a bush. So it was fine. I used this to smash the glass.” ☁️ said, pointing to the computer that he placed beside him. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“I have another that you can use.” Seonghwa said as he applied alcohol to the cuts.

“I have important filled on there. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet.”

The two remained quiet again until Seonghwa finished wrapping the wounds.

“Alright, you should be good.” He stated, grabbing the used cotton swabs and walking into the bathroom with them. ☁️ grabbed the alcohol bottle and roll of bandages, carrying them back into the bathroom for Seonghwa.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning. You should rest.” Seonghwa said, watching ☁️ sit back down on the bed, Seonghwa then walking to the lamp.

“Before you go-“ ☁️ blurted out, stopping Seonghwa.

“Hm?”

“Why’re you helping me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Why’re you doing this for me?”

“Because I like you, despite the “conversations” we’ve had in the past. And we’re not like our parents.”

☁️ nodded.

“Sleep well.” Seonghwa called out, turning the light off.

“Wait-“

Seonghwa turned the light back on, exhaling. “Yes?”

“Sleep in your bed.”

“I already told you I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then move over.”

☁️ scooted back toward the wall with the windows so that Seonghwa could sit in front of him. Seonghwa leaned over to turn the lamp off before pulling the covers over the two of them.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I worried about you a lot.” Seonghwa muttered, him then turning his body to face ☁️.

“Shouldn’t have.” ☁️ murmured in response.

“Well, I did.”

☁️ smiled. “Well, thanks for worrying.”

Seonghwa smiled back, grabbing ☁️’s hand from under the blanket. “Do you mind?”

“No.” ☁️ hummed before turning his body around. He scooted his body back to lie against Seonghwa’s. Grabbing the man’s hand and pulling it over his waist, then two now laid together a spooning position.

“Goodnight, ☁️.” Seonghwa whispered.

“Goodnight.”

a/n: genuinely can’t tell if my stories are good anymore 😄 hope u enjoyed tho! alsoooo gonna be a part 2- just to follow up and see how the reader and seonghwa build a relationship together while the reader is still under the other mob’s protection. def gonna be more fluff and character development in that one!! there can be ❄️ if u guys want it bad enough lol

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#seungrem #x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male y/n #request #request answered #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x male reader #ateez mafia au #ateez au #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #seonghwa x male reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #mafia au #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #mafiaromance

[sturnsbabie]

DEAR GRACIE

PART SEVEN: LABOR

pairing: dad!nate x sls!reader

summary: in which sls goes into labor.

warnings:swearing,mentions of pregnancy,smut, labor,pain,crying,fluff.

nate and i had just got back to our apartment from dropping the kids off to my moms for the weekend and we busted thru the door making out and being handsy.

i shut the door behind me with my foot as walked with nate as he walked backwards and pushed him onto the couch with me in his lap.

i dont know what had gotten into us but we were both so sexually frustrated and now here we were both on the couch completely naked while im riding him.

i was bouncing on him and grinding myself down on him as he was sat up on the couch holding onto my back with one hand and grabbing my ass with the other as he had a titty in his mouth.

“holy fuck daddy.” i moaned out as i left scratches down his back.

“making me feel so fucking god ohmygod.”i moaned as i felt him guide me with his hand on my ass up and down on him as he made eyecontact.

he pulled away from my titty as he kissed me roughly. “you like riding my dick dont ya baby? make ya feel so good just fucking yourself?”he said.

“fuck yes nate i love your dick so much” i moaned out as i left wet kisses all over his neck as my nails left scratches down his back.

“gonna cum princess.” nate said as i could feel him start to twitch inside me.

“me too baby.” i said as i felt myself clenching around him as i coated his cock with my cum as i felt him pull out coating my thighs with his cum as he slid back into me starting to thrust up into me.

nate grabbed ahold of me and started pounding into me as i leaned my head back moaning.

“i love your pussy so fucking much princess.” nate moaned into my shoulder.

as nate started to pound into me once again i felt pressure then a sudden pop happened along with a gush of fluid. my fucking water just broke on him.

“damn baby i got you this wet.”he said as he made eye contact with me.

“nate my fucking water just broke.” i said and he instantly pulled out of me.

“WHAT? are you okay!?” he asked starting to get worried.

i was nine months pregnant and we needed to get this baby out but i didnt think it would happen this soon.

“im okay we need to get dressed.”i said as i got up and walked to our room.

.•°♡°•.

it had been 10 minutes since my water broke and i was now in my bathroom getting myself ready for the hospital.

i wasnt in that big of a rush because i wasnt in pain yet or anything.nate texted our families and told them to meet us at the hospital.

i got dressed and put on a tube top with a pair of nates sweatpants.

i had my phone propped up and i was on facetime with my brother chris having him get ready with me.

i was fixing my hair and doing a little bit of makeup to make sure i looked sexy when giving birth. dont wanna go into the hospital with my i just had sex hair.

“why are you fixing your hair and putting makeup on?” chris asked as he chuckled.

“i want to look good infront of my babydaddy when i give birth.” i said as i was fixing my hair.

“y/n you see him everyday” chris laughed.

i rolled my eyes as i was fixing my lashes. “so? i wanna look good for the vlog too” i said.

as soon as i facetimed chris they were vlogging some parts of it. we kept the whole pregnancy a secret but im allowing my brothers to hard launch gracies delivery vlog. nate was getting ready in our room and he took the bags to the car.

“how are you feeling rightnow?” matt asked me.

“im nervous to give birth even though i did twice already.” i said.

i’ve already went through child birth twice but im still extremely nervous to give birth. i had a great support system though.

as i was finishing up fixing my hair i started to get a painful contraction and i held onto the sink taking deep breaths.

“you okay?” chris asked concerned.

“does it fucking look like it chris?” i said as i was having a contraction.

“okay im sorry” he chuckled.

.•°♡°•.

it had been 15 minutes since i started to have contractions and nate and i are currently on our way to the hospital. chris and i are still on facetime he’s distracting me thru the contractions.

i started to have contractions closer together and the pain was starting to get pretty bad making me irritated with nate.

“can you fucking go faster nate im gonna have this baby in the car if you dont hurry!!”i said.

“baby im going as fast as i can”nate said.

“youre pissing me the fuck off rightnow nate.” i said and chris started to laugh.

“how?” he said as he looked over at me.

“because youre the fucking reason im in this situation rightnow you dont know how to pull out.” i said as i held onto my belly during a contraction.

“well you were the one who begged me to cum inside of you again.” nate chuckled.

i glared at him. “youre lucky that youre driving rightnow or i would knock you out for saying that dumb shit.” i said as you could hear my brothers laughing on my phone.

.•°♡°•.

we got to the hospital and we were now in the room i was gonna give birth in. i was already dialated at a five.

our families were waiting out in the waiting room. this time i only wanted nate with me. i missed my twins though it made me emotional they’re becoming big brothers.

nate was out in the waiting room giving everyone updates and checking on the twins.

“nateeee come hold me.” i said as he came back into the room.

“you sure? you wont get mad at me?” he asked.

“just get in this damn bed and hold me.” i said looking at him.

“okay okay fine.” he chuckled as he got into bed beside me.

he pulled me into his arms and i started to kiss all over his face and neck.

i didnt know what got into me one minute i was cussing him out now im all over him and wishing i wasnt in labor so i could be riding the fuck out of him rightnow.

“whatcha doing princess?” he chuckled.

“can i not kiss all over my sexy ass babydad?”i said rolling my eyes.

“you can i was just wondering.” he said.

i started kissing all over his neck leaving sloppy wet kisses and sucking on his neck lightly leaving a few little marks.

“youre so sexy i love you.” i giggled.

“i love you too princess” he said kissing me softly.

he held me as we made out. it wasnt a sexual or heated makeout. it was one filled with love and emotion.

i love nate so much. hes the literal love of my life. i love our little family we have together and i cant wait for our girl.

as we were kissing i started to feel my contractions starting to grow closer and more painful but i was trying to distract myself from the pain so i kept kissing him until i had to pull away from how bad they are.

i winced out in pain as the contractions were getting one minute apart now.

“nate go get the fucking nurse” i breathed out.

he immediately got up and went to go grab the nurse.

nate came back with the nurse and i told her how bad my contractions were getting so she checked to see how far i was dialated.

i was at a ten.

“its time to start pushing now. let me go grab the dcotor.” she said as she hurried and left the room.

“go get my mom and nick please.”i said.

nate instantly went and grabbed my brother and mom and came back when the doctor did.

it was now time to start pushing.

taglist: @sturniololoves , @milesfordays11 , @freshloveee , @zayyluvz @luvr4miya , @delusional-4-fake-people , @stuniolo-simp4life

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo imagine #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagines #nate doe smut #nate doe imagines #nate doe

[loversatthegreatdivide]

Heavy Lies the Heart - Part 2

Masterlist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: (eventual) canon death Summary: Two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance. Can they find purpose in each other, or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Hopefully this isn't too sloppy; I wrote it on about two hours sleep, and did my edit right after a nap. So be forewarned I may have made some egregious typos. I beg your forgiveness for whatever you may stumble across in there. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms were crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the sitting room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "Honestly I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slime it may be. And of course it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a slight challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be quite nice to was his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

--

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to fall back into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked for to many. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there were the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she doubted he would do so a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he had met only once. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times at least, and he was sure now that he knew at least a few things about her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things; even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazed up at the stars. He was difficult to make out with so little light, but she was still quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How she could she catch Benedict's attention without drawing the eyes of the passersby on the street. She could not simply call out to him, but she would need him to look at the street to alert him quietly. And for the moment he seemed intent to continue looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in worried surprise. Once his attention was on her, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

It was her. She was really here.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She beckoned for him to come down, then turned away, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden hair.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure your mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my most favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away and continued up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke. "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any grief," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

-----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x oc #bridgerton #heavy lies the heart #loversatthegreatdivide #my writing

[blood-mocha-latte]

Hi, I need an outsider's pov of postwar luztoye please, if that seems interesting enough to distract you from other tasks. 😅 Maybe a little old lady who lives next door and brings those nice boys a pie sometimes because George fixed her radio while Joe let her talk his ear off about her son who doesn't visit?

bestie i took this and RAN with it, so i'm hoping this is okay and/or what you were thinking! it got... longer, than i was expecting, but i hope you enjoy <3

---

It’s been lonely, since Lulu died.

The mutt managed to make it seventeen years before kicking it, so she counts it as a victory as best she can. 

Still, the apartment is often too quiet, so she’s grateful for the book club, even if her guest is quieter than the dead dog. 

Book club is probably pushing it, as at best it’s a mangy meeting to discuss books that neither of them necessarily enjoy. 

Still, they’re classics, and she’d like to read them at least once before she herself kicks it. Toye doesn’t seem prone to disagree with her, anyways, just sits grudgingly in the chair across from her, one crutch propped up against the armrest and the other in his lap

She looks over at him, amused. There’s a dark dip between his brows, a telltale sign of focus where focus isn’t necessarily wanted. 

“You can just pretend to read it, you know.” She says. It takes him a moment to look up at her, to pull away from the page.

“What? Oh.” He looked down at the open book in his lap. Her own was kept steady with her palm to its spine. “No, it’s fine.” Silence, for a beat. A pause. “It’s okay. It’s — this is George’s favorite.” He goes back to reading. 

She’d figured as much. The copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray that he’d shown up with was obviously well-loved: the spine cracked and pressed white, yellowing pages littered with pencil markings. Toye treats it like a landmine, like it's liable to break completely in his hands.

She presses back her smile and looked down at her own copy, newly bought. “Alright.” She murmurs, and that's that. 

---

They’d moved in maybe a year and a half ago, and the only reason she knew who either of them were at all was because she’d tripped down the last two steps outside of her own building and the one with two legs had seen her and helped her back up and to her own place.

The rest didn’t really matter, and she found it rather boring. What matters is that she invited the one with two legs up for dinner as a form of gratitude and he’d shown up with the one with one leg that looked a little rougher around the edges and that was that.

---

The one with two legs was Luz, who worked every day, and the other one was Toye, who worked every three days. On Fridays, Toye would come over for her self proclaimed book club with whatever she’d deigned best to read.

“I think it’s a load of crock.” She tells Toye on one of these Fridays, flipping through her pick of the week distastefully. “Overall written alright, but underall it’s garbage. What a worthless read.”

Toye is always generous enough not to mention that she’s always the one to choose the books. “I think there could be a point to it.” He says, always hoarser than she’d think he’d sound, and he talks so very little that she should probably be less tetchy. Still, bad habits are hard to break, and she scoffs.

“Yeah, and what would that be? Fate or God’s plan? Because neither seem to be good and neither are anything close to happening, no matter how much you pray.” She flipped through another few pages disdainfully. Toye’s own copy sat carefully in his lap, and he deigned not to touch it, tapping his fingers instead against the wood of the crutch that stayed across his lap.

“I don’t know.” He said, glanced out of her window. She knew why, and didn’t have to follow his gaze. The only reason that Luz had seen her at all when she had fallen was because they lived directly across from each other, right down to the building's story and window make. “There’s a testament to things falling into place.”

There’s something fragile resting along the lines of his face, and she has to pause for a moment, remind herself how utterly young he is. How young the both of them are.

She has a husband in a cemetery she isn’t able to get to anymore, because the streets are too crowded and her knees are too bad, and a son that’s lost forever in the mud in some godforsaken island in the Pacific, and if praying could have prevented that, they’d still be with her. 

She doesn’t say any of that. She watches Toye’s face carefully before huffing and looking back down to her own book. “I want to read another Shakespeare, next.” She says. “I think he’s an overrated rats’ ass, and you can quote me on that.”

---

On the same Friday’s where she hosts book club, Luz will come by after he’s done at wherever he works with some sort of tupperware of something and they’ll eat dinner with her.

She’d never tell them, but it feels less like an embarrassing sort of pity, when one of them only has one leg. 

“I think that he was a hack, God rest his soul.” She tells them one day, because they’ll listen to her, and she was thinking about it earlier, and there wasn’t even Lulu to tell. “I mean, do all you want and bow to him in whatever, but he was a right fool. I think that it was that wife of his that kept him in line, more than anything.”

Luz is smiling into his own bowl of food, and he’s prone to doing that. He won’t look at her, like he’s worried he’ll burst out laughing if he does, but she doesn’t mind. She came to the conclusion a long time ago that he just likes laughing, and she won’t care much if he does so because of her.

Toye’s always more serious, nods and is able to meet her face and send annoyed looks at the man at his elbow, who usually sits on the floor next to her stuffed armchair. “Eleanor’s a hell of a lady.” He says, and she nods at him, approving.

“She was the real one, if you ask me.” She says, and Luz coughs a bit into his bowl and coughs a bit more lightheartedly when Toye’s hand comes down to shove at his shoulder.

---

On the days that Toye works, and only in the wintertime, Luz sometimes visits by himself.

She has a sneaking suspicion that he’s intimidated by her, in some way, or something about her apartment is off putting. She doesn’t care all that much. He’s a nice enough boy, and he helped her back up the stairs, but she’s always had more of a proclivity for the quiet ones.

In the winter, he tends to be more of one of those himself, paler and usually scruffier than usual.

He looks so on the day that he knocks on her door and when she opens it, he looks like he hasn’t shaved in three days and eaten in six. 

“Dear God.” She says, and steps back from the door to usher him in before he can freeze her apartment. “You look like a transient.”

She never paid much attention to what was going on in the Atlantic, other than the newsreels (which she never went to) and by word of mouth from her friends (which she didn’t have) and newspapers and magazines (which she rarely left the house to get).

Her war, like it was her boy's war, was with the islands, and when he died, her study of it died with him. 

Still, she knew enough to recognize that Europe could get cold and that hollow eyes are often related to that ice. 

Luz doesn’t laugh nearly as much in the wintertime, or smile, and she can’t even get him to crack half of one, even when she deigns to instead criticize Toye, which usually works.

“Oh, for Gods’ sake.” She ends up saying today, hips aching and irritated. “Now I have to waste coffee on you. Perfectly good waste, most of it is going to end up in that… thing, on your face.”

She doesn’t like beards. Never did like it when her boy grew one, said it made him look more grown-up than she’d allow.

Luz still doesn’t smile.

Fifteen minutes later, she sits with him in the overstuffed armchairs and wonders about what boys still find funny when he asks her, quite out of the blue, “What do you do when you miss someone?”

She blinks.

“Well, I’m sad about it.” She says, and when Luz just stares down at the mug she’d pushed onto him, rather desolate looking, she sighs and tries to think of something else to say. “I get angry. Or I knit. Or I look through my photos. Missing someone isn’t a glove. Why?”

Luz huffs, but it isn’t exactly happy. She doesn’t like it when Toye has to leave. He always seems happier, when the other one is around. The creases around his eyes aren’t so frustratingly deep.

“Nothing.” He says, and his voice is hoarse. “Just thinking about people who’re gone.”

She watches him, critical. God, she hopes he shaves before she sees him again. It’s really just improper. 

“They never found my son's body.” She tells him. “Or they did, and they lied to me. Either way, he left and he’s gone and I barely have anything of him but what I remember and what he wore. So you find things that help you do more than obsess over those things.” She thinks of Lulu, of her soft fur and the way that she’d lick at her face. “And that’ll be gone before you know it, too, so you have to appreciate it all. You can’t afford to stop loving things in the world just because someone you love is no longer in it.”

She stares back down at her cup. 

Luz clears his throat, and when she looks up, he cracks half of a smile at her awkwardly. His eyes are dark, there isn’t much light there. “Thank you.” He says, and she wishes she hadn’t told him about her boy. Still, she feels warm.

“Good god, child.” She says, anyways. “Go home and shave. You look like some sort of Hungarian.”

Luz doesn’t laugh, but looks like he might have, if it wasn’t wintertime.

---

Later on in the same night, they’re up later than they usually are, and she only knows it because she’s trying to get through a chapter for book club on Friday and she can see their silhouettes through their lit up window, light and orange and slightly blurry.

She doesn’t watch them for long, doesn’t want to pry.

Luz’s arms are around Toye’s neck, his face dropped down to his shoulder. Toye’s arms are wrapped fully around him, maybe more for balance than anything else. The way they’re turning, it looks like they're dancing. She wonders to what music.

She used to dance like that, with her husband. That was how she taught her boy, as he stood on top of her shoes and she held his little hands. 

She shuffles back over to the armchair and goes back to reading her book. She doesn’t like this one either.

---

One day, she thinks they might be arguing. 

Toye comes over on a Thursday night, instead of a Friday, and looks rather tired. It’s springtime, which is why she’s more hesitant about letting him in, but he’s shaved, so she allows it.

“Could I stay over for the night?” He asks her, voice raspy. “I’d – I hate to ask, but—”

She squints at him. “You’re the one with one leg.” She says. “Shouldn’t he be leaving?” Toye coughs. He shifts on his crutches, glances vaguely over his shoulder in a way that makes him look rather guilty.

“No, it’s—” He starts, and cuts himself off. “I want him to stay in the apartment.” He looks vaguely embarrassed. She squints at him again, but in the end just starts moving back towards her armchair.

“Fine.” She says. “I like you better than I like him, anyways.”

---

She tosses a bunch of moth-eaten blankets from the closet onto the floor and tells Toye good luck with standing back up and gets to bed. Toye looks strangely pleased about her rudeness, so she keeps that in mind and makes note to tell him that he needs a haircut tomorrow.

---

Toye stays over the whole day and helps her with small things and she tells him that he needs a haircut, and needs to shave, and needs to go outside more, and needs to get a better job, and needs better crutches, and should wear his fake leg more often, and a dozen other things before they sit down to read and do so for hours.

Book club lasts much longer than it usually does, but when there’s the usual knock at the door, albeit more tentative, Toye looks up and looks, again, so painfully young that she sort of wants to smack him for it.

She doesn’t. She pushes to her feet and complains the whole way to the door.

Luz doesn’t have food, and he barely says hello, just looks right past her to Toye, says in a soft, hoarse voice that she thinks means that he’s been smoking and that he wants to talk.

She looks from him, to Toye, to him again, and decides to stay out of it. “Get out of here, the both of you.” She says. “And clean up, before I see you again. You both have jobs, you know.”

---

She doesn’t see them for maybe three or four days after that, doesn’t even see them entering or exiting their own building. She wonders if one or both of them are sick, but thinks they might just be locked up in their own apartment for some godforsaken reason. 

They don’t emerge for days and Luz is the first one that she sees, looking more relaxed than he has since the wintertime. He waves at her, but doesn’t spend too much time outside. Just pitches a cigarette over his shoulder and skips back up to the apartment, and that’s the last she sees of either of them for another two days. 

She supposes they’ve made up.

---

She only goes over to their apartment once. 

It’s alright. Rather homely.

There’s only one chair in the sitting room, which is rather ridiculous, though every time she’s seen him, Luz usually insists on sitting on the floor, so she supposes that may be a part of it. The kitchen is small, rather boring. A whiteboard sits on top of the fridge, tracking something by tally marks that she’s not privy to knowing. They don’t let her into either of the bedrooms, and she doesn’t care much to investigate.

“You, uh.” Luz tells her awkwardly, hands in his pockets, mouth quirked up in his forever-grin. “We could start eating here, if you’d like.”

She wrinkles her nose at the cracked open fire escape and the dishes in the sink and the crooked blanket on the chair. “I’m quite alright.” She says, and decides not to come back. 

(There’s one of those song-players on a table off to the side, however. It looks more expensive than anything else in the apartment. Underneath it is a basket, and the only vinyl she’s able to make out is one of Billie Holliday.

Ugh. Figures.)

---

They come over every Friday for two years and she sees them more often than that, and as soon as something changes, she can tell immediately. It annoys her.

She knows right off the bat because Toye’s wearing his prosthetic, which he never does, and Luz is shaved, which doesn’t matter much, because his hair is still much too long. 

“Where’s the house at?” She asks him, after barely another two minutes, because she’s connected the dots and doesn’t want to wait for them to be explained to her. 

Luz is the one, for once, to pause. Toye turns to look at him, face doing the same sort of lined, barely held back guarded emotion that it often throws up around the other man before he looks back at her, hesitates.

“It’s, uh.” He says. She sighs, wants to tell him to knock it off with the pausing. “In Bedford. It’s—”

He keeps talking, and she deigns to ignore him to instead watch Luz, the way he looks at Toye. It’s the same sort of emotion, barely lined, making him heavier.

She wonders if her boy got to care so much about someone, before he was killed.

“Alright.” She says, maybe with a sigh, holds up a hand and decides that’s that. She’ll miss book club, but if she truly gave a rats ass, she’d join a real one. Maybe she will, now. “Make sure you pack enough. And shave. You have jobs.” 

Toye’s smile is a crooked curve, and Luz’s takes over his whole face. She looks at both of them, unimpressed. 

“Write to me, if you want.” She says. “Or visit. God knows I’m not going anywhere.”

She’s not, either. Maybe she’ll get another Lulu.

---

They leave on a Wednesday, which annoys her only because it’s such a random day to leave somewhere, with some sort of boring car packed with trunks in the middle of the summer.

She watches from the steps of her own building, arms crossed, and gives them advice on how to best stack the luggage, which they don’t follow. 

“They’re all going to fall out and you’ll be left with broken and dirty things, and then you’ll see who’s in the right.” She tells Toye, who’s closer, annoyed. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t say anything.

Luz looks back at them and smiles, but she knows he’s not looking at her.

---

She stands on the steps until it’s time for them to leave, and she hates dilly-dallying, so she rushes through the goodbyes by patting Luz’s cheek and grimacing at the stubble there. He looks like he might laugh at her. 

She lets Toye get a step further and give her half of a hug, which she’s also not a fan of but allows anyways.

He watches her with those careful, dark eyes and says, very punctually, “Thanks, Moira.”

She waves him off. “You should be thanking me for trying to help you with the luggage.” She says, pointed. “Off you go. Get a dog. God knows there’s enough of them running around.”

From a few feet behind Toye, Luz laughs. 

---

She can see their silhouettes, as they get in the car. Can see what looks like Toye kissing Luz on the cheek. She grimaces.

It must have been a horrid kiss. He never does shave enough.

#rie writes #okay i won’t lie to you. this is probably my favorite hbowar drabble ive written #band of brothers #luztoye #george luz #joe toye #joseph toye #hbo war

[vaguesxrrow]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE EDWIN X RECENTLY DEAD MALE READER!!!! I NEED MORE MLM READER STUFF AND ALSO I'M A SUCKER FOR THE LONG DEAD AND USED TO IT/THE RECENTLY DEAD CONFUSED AND SCARED THING!!!!

hii yes ofc ! lovedd writing this so i hope u enjoy reading :>>

edwin payne / recently dead!reader

a/n: reader's cause of death is unspecified aside from he died on the street, and also he has an apartment.

anddd uh i forgot that death usually comes for newly dead people... so excuse that inaccuracy please or explain it away with how reader ran away from his body

wc: 1886

tags: male reader, ghost reader

cw's: mention of death, panic attacks (all not detailed)

you ran, leaving your body behind you where it lay on the sidewalk, limp and as still as rigor mortis (you never thought that saying could be applied literally, but now it was, and wasn't that crazy?).

you were panicking, you vaguely registered, as the passerby's and the cars seemed to blur in your vision. people kept passing right through you, and you hunched in on yourself. even if you couldn't feel them (which was also a new, unwelcome epiphany), it still made your skin crawl.

until - a firm hand rested on your shoulder. your breath hitched, like you couldn't quite figure out if the touch was welcome or not.

"are you quite alright?" the hand's voice asked. you looked up, half expecting to see a horror movie-style ghost. instead, however, you were met with angled features that were sharp, yet softened by visible concern at the same time. the boy's brown eyes were narrowed, and his hair looked a little wind swept.

okay. definitely a welcome touch.

"can you hear me? are you alright?" he repeated.

you snapped out of your stupor. "oh," you said dumbly. "i- i don't... know."

he cocked his head to the side, sympathy in the way he pursed his lips and his gaze became gentler. "what do you last remember?"

"...i was walking. and then... i wasn't? it's kind of black after that. i was laying down when i came to..." your eyes widened. you meant to ask, 'am i dead?', but instead what came out was a strangled, "oh my god."

"it is important to remain calm," edwin advised. "i can help you."

you nodded vigorously. "okay, yeah, i could use your help." especially because your voice was getting an octave higher with every word you spoke. so much for remaining calm.

before you knew it, the boy had guided you to a bench and sat you on it, plopping down right next to you as he waited for you to regain your composure. his arm was around yours, securing you snugly to his side - it was comforting.

"i'm dead, aren't i?" you intoned numbly.

he sighed. "yes. but that does not mean everything is over."

"earlier... everyone just passed through me. like i wasn't there at all."

"it is lonely, at first. but then it is not," he said. "take my case for example - my best mate is charles - he's dead as well - and we have two alive friends named crystal and niko, who are part of the small proportion of people who can see us. when you find the right people, it becomes very difficult to feel lonely."

"charles, crystal, and niko..." you repeated. "and what's your name?"

"edwin payne."

"nice to meet you, edwin. and thanks for helping. i'm [name]."

"not a problem," edwin said. "my friends and i are often in the habit of assisting ghosts, although you are the first recently dead i have personally come across in a very long time."

"how long?" you inquired. "i mean, when did you... kick the bucket?"

"1916," he told you gently.

your eyes widened. "riiight."

you fell silent again. as you were contemplating your current circumstances, several voices yelled edwin's name.

approaching you were three people. two girls - one with white hair, the other with curly brown - and a boy with near-black ringlets.

"edwin, mate, we couldn't find you anywhere!" the boy exclaimed.

"yes, well-" edwin began.

"who's this?" the white haired girl cut in, looking at you curiously.

edwin rolled his eyes fondly. "this is [name]. he recently... became a ghost."

"does he know any cool ghost tricks yet?" she asked.

you thought you felt a headache coming on.

"[name], these are my friends. niko, crystal, and charles." he gestured to them in order of mention. they all waved at you, even if the last two looked a bit wary.

"hi," you said meekly.

"we were just discussing the events of [name]'s death."

charles coughed pointedly. "maybe give the guy time to process he even is dead?"

"oh! my apologies, [name]. are you still feeling unwell?"

your eyes darted between crystal and niko as they exchanged glances at edwin's apology, like they were surprised. it confused you as to why - he seemed perfectly nice so far... and very charming.

"i'm good," you told edwin, flashing a smile. "i just... don't know where to go. i can't go back to my apartment, can i? i'm dead. it's not like i could continue living there."

"i read somewhere that it's good to revisit places from the past," niko informed you earnestly. "it can be very healing."

"hey, edwin, you should walk him back to his apartment!" crystal piped up.

"hm?" niko cocked her head at her friend. "oh! oh, yes, edwin, you totally should. you're a dead boy detective, after all. go help people!"

you thought you'd get whiplash trying to keep up with the conversation. "you're a what now-?"

edwid stood abruptly, brushing invisible dust off his coat. "perhaps i will walk [name] back to his apartment. if you feel inclined to." the last part was directed at you.

"oh- i wouldn't want to inconvenience you guys..." you said.

"nonsense." he held out a hand to you. "we are the dead boy detective agency, after all."

you still didn't know what that was, but you trusted edwin in spite of only having known him for less than an hour. so, you took his hand. you couldn't feel it, but the imagined weight and warmth of his palm against yours gave you comfort, dissipating the fear and apprehension inside you just a little bit.

⌦ --

the apartment building loomed above you. suddenly, it felt so big and intimidating - you felt no trace of excitement at the quaintness of it like you always had before. the reason you chose to live here was the brick walls and the carefully tended vines snaking along the front. not to mention, it was tall - 10 stories - and sort of reminded you of rapunzel's tower.

"ready?" edwin prompted.

you nodded, and let him pull you through the door - which you passed through with ease. you knew you were incorporeal at best in your current state, but you still cringed, bracing yourself for an impact that never came.

"it gets easier, eventually," edwin told you, having noticed your unease.

"yeah, okay," you said. and you were convinced. "i guess it'll help having an experienced ghost guide with me." you beamed at him.

his lips parted slightly in surprise. "i promise to do whatever i can to make this adjustment easier for you."

you chuckled. "edwin, you are honestly so charming..." you muttered to yourself as you headed towards the elevator. another reason you loved this complex so much was because you didn't have to conquer the 10 floors with just the stairs.

how did ghosts usually travel up places? you had no clue, but you were grateful that edwin kept silent at your decision to take the lift.

a 'ding' sounded and the doors parted open, instantaneously revealing the door that led to your room. your landlady had been kind enough to let you paint it a lovely burnt orange colour.

"that's me," you sighed. "c'mon."

your apartment was just as you remembered you left it this morning. not that you'd logically expected any change... but the fear-addled part of you had maybe been picturing a ransacked room, band posters ripped off the wall and all your ceramic cups shattered across the floor.

"this is weird," you voiced as you drifted from the door to the couch, then to the small kitchenette.

you shivered, not from the cold - you would never feel cold again, you thought, a bit hysterically - but from the all-encompassing grief you felt for yourself.

"i'm kind of sad i died. i know i'm still here... i'm not gone gone, or anything, but i'm still sad. is that weird?" you turned towards edwin, who was watching you with an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

"not at all." he put a hand on your shoulder. "there is much more to be done, even after your living time has expired." he paused, seeming to consider something. "i could... i could show you, if you would like."

"show me what?"

"the dead boy detectives' office," he said. "perhaps it will serve as a distraction."

warmth spread inside you, touched at his thoughtfulness. "that'd be great."

"excellent." edwin smiled, looking pleased. "do you have a mirror?"

your iron-tight grip on edwin's hand never ceased its hold, even after the two of you emerged from the other side of the mirror. panting, you gave your insides a moment to settle from the very jarring travel.

"that was so cool," you gasped. "even if it was unexpected. is this what niko meant by cool ghost tricks?"

"quite," edwin said. "now, welcome to the dead boy detectives' office. allow me to show you around."

his hand was still in yours, you noticed as he led you to a bookshelf and gave an overview of the different volumes it held. you made no move to pull away - partially because you didn't want to break his flow (you saw why he was so proud of it, and it was cute hearing him ramble), partially because you enjoyed the contact.

then, he showed you to a shelf that, if you didn't know any better, would have looked like a knick knack shelf, albeit one belonging to an eccentric grandma. on it were objects ranging from bones (human or not, you couldn't tell) to the rubber balls you found in vending machines.

"these," edwin proclaimed. "are the more interesting payments we have received. some enchanted, some not. i keep a document of which are and aren't."

he picked up a metal ring, with a dark sapphire gem in the middle. "like this, for example. it isn't enchanted, but it dates back to the edwardian era. when i was alive." he sighed wistfully, and lifted your hand, where your fingers were still intertwined. "may i?"

you nodded, watching his face. his eyes met yours, and he smiled shyly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

"i acknowledge that we have only just become acquainted," edwin began. "but i have never become so fond of a boy this quick before."

"...so, in 21st century speak, you like me?" you questioned, half-teasing.

the two of you chucked in unison.

edwin cleared his throat. "yes, i think i do."

"then you won't mind if i..." you let the way you leaned down slightly finish your sentence.

"please," he said.

the kiss was chaste and fleeting, but it was enough for you to decide you definitely wanted to do it again.

"was that okay?" you checked in with edwin.

he nodded quickly. "yes, yes. very much so."

"good." you bit back a grin.

"would you like to stick around?" he blurted. "around the office, i mean, and with my friends and i. it isn't every day i meet a boy like you, and i... think i would rather like your company."

"i think i'd like your company, too," you admitted.

he held out a hand, making you laugh at the formality of it. "well then, welcome to the dead boy detectives' agency." he said. "i, for one, am very happy to have you here.”

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives x reader #dead boy detectives fic #edwin paine/reader #edwin paine x reader #edwin payne x reader #edwin payne #edwin payne x you #edwin payne/reader #edwin paine #dbdshow

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt1

its here ladies and gents its here.

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

She was beautiful and he knew it. He knew because every chance he got, he would look in her direction. She sat so perfectly in 3rd hour history class, her back facing him. But he could imagine exactly what her face did. The way she focused so hard. So hard that she’d lick her lips too many times. The way her eyebrows furrowed when she didn't understand the lesson. Her long hair perched in a messy bun on top of her head. How her cheeks were always dusted with a light pink color. She was so, so beautiful. Not everyone would think that, but one adored her. Chris adored everything about her. She was so sweet and soft spoken and she was a little bit shy. He would listen to her talk when the teacher would ask a question and wonder how she got so wise and smart. He was proud of someone he never knew.

He thought about her a lot. And ofcourse, he was beautiful as well, but he didn’t think so. He thought he could never, ever be good enough for her. Chris thought he lacked the smarts and personality that she had. He thought he wasn’t worthy of her, and so many people, except himself, knew he was more than capable. Chris wasn’t exactly sure of how popular he was in school. Him on one side of the social status and her on the other.

Despite not many people knowing her, the ones who did were fond of Y/n. They had no reason to despise her. Everyone apart from Chris’ girlfriend. No one understood why, not even Chris. And Chris loved his girlfriend, but she wasn’t Y/n. The love he felt for Y/n was different from Clairisa, Chris’s girlfriend. She was beautiful too, super smart as well and always kind.  But there was something that drew Chris to the other woman. He didn’t have a clue what it was but it kept tugging at him. And it pained Chris to know that if Clairisa knew how he felt about Y/n, it would crush her. But that didn’t stop him. He just wanted to talk to her. To be close to her. He wanted to be her friend. That’s why he’s where he’s at right now, in front of Y/n's desk in their only shared class.

Y/n’s pov

I wrote on my paper, studying the last bit of information I could before the test. I didn't have time to study last night. Work kept me up til around midnight, and when I did finally arrive home, I had to clean the kitchen. It was always a mess when I got home. I regret not doing it after school, seeing how tired and stressed I was this morning. I scribbled down as much as I could. I found that I can memorize things quicker if I write it down a few times. God how I hated history. I was good at everything, math, science, English, and even French class, but history? Hell no. I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing them with my fingers. I heard a slight tap on my desk in front of me. I moved my hands from my face and looked up slightly. It was a boy with brown hair and very blue eyes. I felt my face form a confused expression. I knew who he was, everyone did. Chris Sturniolo was kind of popular with the girls and he was very friendly with the majority of the guys at school as well. Most knew him because he played hockey, and damn was he good at it. 

Why is he at my desk? Class is about to start and he’s at my desk.

“Um, yes?” I asked, glancing over his face before shifting in my spot. His gaze was making me uncomfortable.

He looked at me for a few seconds, but it felt like so much longer. He looked like he wanted to get something off his mind but couldn’t form the words.

“Do you need something?” I questioned him once more. Then, as he was opening his mouth to say something, he closed it and walked away to his desk. I looked down at my hands on my lap. What was that about?

I glanced back slightly, him already looking at me. I quickly turned around, picking up my pencil and scribbling on my paper again, trying to hide my face from others that were filing into the room. I felt a blush slowly creep up my neck. Well that was embarrassing. The bell rang meaning class was starting. I closed my book as the teacher announced we had a test today and started going over the directions of what to do after we had finished.

The test wasn’t difficult at all. I was actually the second one to finish it. I knew I had gotten an A on it. Majority of it was common sense. After I turned the paper in to the teacher, I walked back to my desk. I glanced around the room, my eyes finding the top of Chris’s head. He had his head down, probably sleeping. Did he finish his test? Why is he sleeping right now? I shook my head slightly and sat back down at my desk. I opened my bag and grabbed my phone and headphones. I opened my music app and played my music, letting out a breath and sighing. I had work again today. From 4 to 11:30. That meant that when I got home I had to clean the house quickly, so I didn’t struggle like I did last night. I placed my head down softly, shutting my eyes and listening to the music playing through my headphones.

–

School was slow. Every class seemed to take forever. I think it was because I was so exhausted. Lunch was nice though. I normally go outside for lunch. I like to look at the sky, listen to my music and enjoy the quiet. Sometimes there would be the occasional person to say hello to me but today it was just my thoughts. I was grateful for that. I appreciated the 45 minutes of peace. I liked talking to people, but most of the time it was too much to deal with. Talking meant focusing, and lunch was the time that I didn’t need to focus, unless I was cramming information in my head because of an exam next hour. 

The last bell of the day rang, excusing students to go home and enjoy the rest of the day for themselves. I walked outside, to my car. A white  2017 Nissan Sentra. Nothing special, but I loved it. It was cozy and gave me good memories. Memories I’ll hold onto for the rest of my life. My dad got it for me on my 16th birthday a year and a half ago. That was probably the best birthday I’ve ever had.

I got in and shut the door, starting the car. I looked around, making sure it was safe to go. Slightly to my left, a little ways across the parking lot, I spotted Chris leaning against his girlfriend's car, his hands in his pockets. She was leaned up against him, talking about something I obviously couldn’t hear. 

She’s so pretty, I thought to myself. I’ve always admired her, always been jealous of her since the 4th grade. She’s so lucky to have a guy like Chris. She deserved him. He deserved her. I blinked slowly, realizing I was staring at them. She kissed him and walked around to the driver side of her car. He walked to the passenger side and they both got in, pulling out of the parking lot. I leaned back in my seat. I wonder what he needed earlier. I honestly forgot about it, even though the situation made me very uncomfortable. I hope he didn't think anything bad of me. I mean, why was he standing there just looking at me. Why didn’t he talk? What if he wanted something from me? What would he want? I have nothing to offer so why would Chris Sturniolo be at my desk? I put my head down, rubbing my eyes with my fingers, for what felt like the 10th time today. I lifted my head and drove out of the parking lot, going in the direction of my home.

You have more important things to worry about, Y/n. Get home and get ready for work. But, I still thought about those blue eyes looking into mine all the way home. 

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris x y/n #chris x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturnio #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #slow burn #matt stuniolo fanfic

[lordprettyflackotara]

till dawn || eyeless jack || bonus part

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. tw: this is unfortunately very fluffy as well as smutty. if you came here for raw intense fucking wait until i release my new one shot with ej called huntin’ wabbitz. this is for the till dawn girlies ONLY. enjoy <3

“Why are we doing this again?”

Jeff’s voice was harsh, raising the question Ben had as well. The blonde stood in front of Jack, attempting to gracefully finish tying the demons bow tie. “Well Jeff in human culture weddings are a symbolic ceremony of love and unconditional commitment,” Ben explained, not glancing up at the pale killer. Somehow your request of a wedding had managed to get every creep dressed up, including Jacks friends.

Jeff went to run his fingers through his ash black hair, frowning once he realized it was in a man bun. “Yeah no I obviously have that part down pat. But I meant why are we doing this? We aren’t exactly humans anymore you know,” Jeff pointed out. Ben smiled as he finished adjusting Jacks bow tie. The sapphire blue suited him the best, according to Clockwork anyways.

“You are aware she’s a human right?” Ben asked. Jeff sighed, refraining himself from face palming. “As everyone has been talking about for the past twenty four hours, yes I am aware she’s a human,” Jeff answered. Ben went to defend you further, Jacks voice interrupting the blonde.

“We’re doing this because it’s what she wants.”

Believe it or not, Jack was apprehensive about the whole thing. It wasn’t the ceremony he feared or the social pressure to lift his mask to kiss your sweet lips. It was having you around so many creeps at once. The residents at Slender’s mansion had grown accustomed to your presence. You became just another resident, killer or not. Even the proxies had grown fond of you, initially pushing back on your stay due to your mortality. It may not have been a life they would’ve chosen for themselves, but you had proved time and time again your love for Jack prevailed all doubts.

It was also highly convenient to have someone able to grocery shop without a swat team being called.

You hadn’t outright come out and said you wanted marriage to Jack, but he was no fool. The magazines left out with pages of rings and dresses. Weddings were apart of your kinds culture and more importantly, they meant something to you. It wasn’t long after that Jack bribed Hoodie into helping him rob a jewelry store to get as many rings as they could carry. What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know your ring size and he couldn’t possibly acquire the knowledge and be inconspicuous at the same time.

Word of your engagement spread like wildfire, the concept alone unheard of. Creeps from all over, including the Trenderman mansion, had been invited per your request. You had never met Laughing Jack, Jason the toy maker, Candypop, etc. Yet, you wanted all of them there for your special day. Jack thought it was touching once he put aside all of his fears about having that many immortal psychopaths around you. The main reason every creep turned up to your wedding was simple: you were human.

Outside of proxies, the supernatural haze that imbedded itself into creeps. It slowed down their aging, kept their bloodlust prevalent. Many of them didn’t even recall their human life. If they even had one to begin with. The idea alone that someone like you, could love someone endlessly like them was incomprehensible. This resulted in every creep on the planet to attend, that fact alone making Jack more nervous.

Slenderman had high expectations of his residents, ensuring that although unhinged they would maintain a stable and respectable behavior. Many of the creeps attending, including X-Virus and Nina the killer, were highly unpredictable. In the back of his mind he doubted that he would be able to protect you from all of them.

“Dude you should sit down, you don’t look so good,” Ben said, guiding him to sit down on the end of the bed. It was rare Jack had his mask off and it was most certainly non negotiable during the ceremony. But here in his bedroom with his (whether he’d admit it or not) best friends, he felt comfortable enough to take it off. Just for a moment. “You look kinda pale,” Jeff said, helping Ben guide Jack to sit down. The demon stifled a laugh. “Yeah you’re one to talk casper,” He chuckled.

Jeff rolled his eyes, a knock on the door interrupting a comeback that threatened to roll off of his tongue. The pale killer answered the door, revealing you. You were mesmerizing, the white dress Jane and Clockwork helped you acquire fitting you perfect. “I’d like a moment alone with Jack, if y’all don’t mind,” You say. Ben and Jeff exchanged glances. “Isn’t there some tradition about not seeing the bride until-” Jeff began, Ben’s hand planting a sharp slap on his shoulder.

“Hey dude what the fuck-”

Ben grabbed Jeff’s suit sleeve, dragging him towards the door. “Message received, see you guys at the ceremony,” He chimed cheerfully, a confused and mumbling Jeff trailing behind him. You could hear grumbling about Ben tearing the suit, the complaining making you giggle. You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. Jack was eager to be beside you, approaching you quickly.

“Hi there,” You greeted, giving him a genuine smile. Upon seeing your face he began to relax, the dark gray color returning to his face. “You look absolutely stunning my mate,” Jack purred, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sound of chatter from the hallway made Jack jump, pulling you behind him. He recognized the voices to belong to Laughing Jill and Kate the chaser, two creeps he did not trust. His gaze was centered on the door, your soft hand grabbing his arm.

“Jack, I need you to relax,” You say softly. Your voice was like warm honey, temptation threatening him to look away from the door. How could he protect you if he wasn’t ready? You walked around him, looking up at him as he towered over you. “EJ seriously, it’s okay. I’m okay,” You told him. Jacks gaze finally broke from the door, the sound of the girls straying off in the distance. “It’s hard to focus when there’s so many of my kind around. You’re not a proxy you know, you don’t have Slender’s unlimited protection,” Jack explained. His eyebrows furrowed as you admired his suit, rubbing his fingers over the suit jackets fabric.

“Maybe not. But I have yours, Jeffs, Ben’s, the proxies, Jane’s grown to like me I think, oh and Smiley,” You replied, giving him a small smile. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to the side. “You really think we could take on all of them and win?” He questioned. You giggled. You took his large hand, guiding him over to the window. You gestured for him to look outside, the creeps all taking their seats and talking. “This isn’t a war EJ. They’re not here to kill me. They’re here to celebrate,” You say. Jack watched as Smiley chased Sally around the yard, Slender and Trender caught up in a telepathic conversation at the podium.

Where the fuck did they get a podium?

“I guess what i’m trying to say is that you worry too much. Your friends like me right? So will they,” You told him, tucking your hair behind your ears. Jack contemplated your reasoning, glancing down and spotting the bloody painter. “You invited the bloody painter?” Jack questioned. You followed his gaze, spotting him talking to X-Virus. “I guess? Does it matter?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Jack inhaled sharply. The last time he saw the Bloody Painter it ended in a bloody brawl. No pun intended.

“He’s just uh, not my favorite person on the planet,” Jack answered dryly. His gaze was locked onto him, refusing to shift away. You grabbed Jacks chin, guiding him to look at you. “I don’t like the idea of him seeing you. Being near you,” Jack admitted. It was something primal, something he couldn’t shake off. You were his mate and an enemy was prancing around his territory. “Guess you should show him who I belong to then,” You suggested, biting your bottom lip.

Jack could hear your heart skip a beat, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh you naughty little thing,” He whispered, bringing his lips to yours. Jack was never soft or gentle, but he tried his hardest to be so he didn’t ruin the dress. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his primal instincts ensuing. “How long do we have until the ceremony starts?” Jack asked, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You giggled, lying down on his bed. “Oh I don’t know, maybe till dawn?” You teased. Jack pounced on top of you, giving you a small smile.

“Need to know how much time I have with you love,” He purred, his breath hot against your ear. The sensation made you shudder in pleasure, your body igniting itself on fire. “Maybe twenty minutes?” You guessed. Jacks hands slowly pulled up your tight dress before cupping your drenched heat. “Okay maybe thirty,” You groaned. He could feel your dampness through your lacey white panties, the feeling alone euphoric. “Tsk tsk. Dressed so pure when you know I stole that purity long ago,” Jack hummed, teasingly dragging two fingers up and down your slit.

You whined, your hips bucking upwards. “Jack we don’t have time for teasing,” You say, eager to feel him. The demon above you quietly snickered, pushing your panties to the side. “It’s our wedding, they can wait,” He said, dropping to his knees. He dragged you by your thighs to the end of the bed, playfully licking up your thigh. “Jack please,” You whined, running your fingers through his hair. You tugged harshly at the roots, trying to drag him to your cunt. “So desperate,” Jack murmured before diving into your folds.

You could never explain or process the euphoria his three tongues provided. Two would shove themselves inside of you, scissoring your walls to stretch you out as much as they could. The third would attach itself to your clit, stimulating the bud as much as possible. It was an indescribable feeling, one that always made you moan and pant like a wild animal. Jack had purposefully gave you head everyday for a month, just to train the muscles in his tongues to be able to fuck you better.

As much as you were hesitant, it paid off.

“Fucking shit, Jack!” You moaned, throwing your head back as his large hands pried your thighs open. A primal growl rumbled in the bottom of his throat, his gaze centered on watching you fall apart. His tongues curled to begin abusing your g spot, your back arching off of the bed. You yanked at his locs, trying to pry him away from your aching cunt. You bit your bottom lip. “Jack if you keep that up you’re going to get very wet,” You threatened, your face turning red. You always got embarrassed of your bodies natural functions, Jack noticed. He didn’t see the point. He had seen every part of you and adored every nanometer.

You also had squirted on his fingers, tongues, and cock more times than he could count. How you orgasmed didn’t matter to him. He smirked as he continued his motions, your thighs trembling in his grasp. You whimpered as you came, your juices squirting across his face. You could feel your face growing hot, some of Jacks suit jacket soaked. He leaned back, your juices coating some of his clothing. He could hear your heart practically pounding against your rib cage.

“Goddammit-” Inhale. “Jack-” Exhale. “Your suits now all wet,” You sighed, trying to swallow as much air as possible Jack on the other hand was gleaming with pride, helping you rise to your feet. “It’ll dry. Besides, I think it’s pretty fucking hot,” He purred. He brought you over in front of his full length mirror, bringing your hands to either side of it to hold yourself up for support. “You look so beautiful, just watch yourself crumble for me,” Jack ordered. You could hear the clinking of his belt, the demon then wrapping his arms around your waist.

The height difference was one that couldn’t be ignored. Originally you didn’t think it would be possible for Jack to fuck you standing. That was of course until one eventful morning in the shower made it possible. All he had to do was pick you up and guide you down onto his cock. He did just that, watching you awkwardly balance on your tip toes to stay standing. As many times as you took him it always felt the same, your walls spasming around him as you struggled to take his girth.

“You’re doing so well for me beautiful, now open your eyes and watch,” Jack purred, placing a kiss on the side of your head. You felt him bottom out inside of you, the bulge of his cock visible through your dress. You whimpered as he let you adjust to him, his ears twitching at the sound of your heart beat. It always sped up when he first entered you, creating an addicting sympathy he wanted to hear forever. He swallowed as his gaze fell down to your neck, the urge to cover you in marks ensuing.

Jacks large hands grabbed your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his cock. “Fucking- fuck,” You moaned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Jack couldn’t control himself as he thrusted into you, his mind emptying entirely. “Such a good mate for me, taking me like this,” He panted. He licked the tender side of your neck, a chill running down your spine as he continued to fuck you. “You like this huh? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?” Jack chuckled darkly. Your head fell forward, your eyes screwing shut.

“Oh don’t get all shy on me now. Look at yourself,” Jack ordered. He slithered one hand up to your face, forcing you to look up. “Watch as I breed you mate. Fucking watch,” Jack rambled, grinning as your lips puckered out like a fish. Your noises were sinful, Jack couldn’t help but have an egotistical sense of pride. You could feel your second orgasm coming, your hands grabbing onto Jacks arm.

“J-Jack i’m gonna cum,” You panted. Jack’s hand slithered to your throat, squeezing the airway. “Not yet mate, wait for me,” He ordered. He continued to snap his hips into yours, your body beginning to shake as you tried to listen. “F-f-fuck I can’t-” You rambled. You moaned as you felt him choke you harder. “Awe you wanna cum so badly? Go on, cum. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jack huffed. The cord inside of you snapped, your body trembling as Jack came undone inside of you. Cumming anywhere besides deep in your cunt was out of the question, your pussy often dripping with his seed.

For a brief moment Jack held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your abused walls settling down around his shaft. “EJ?” You panted, still dazed. Your fingertips traced over the bulge that showed through your stomach. “Yeah?” Jack hummed. He wiped your smudged eye makeup, trying to clean you up without taking you off of his cock. “We’re still supposed to be getting married you know,” You chuckled. Jack playfully sighed, rolling his non existent eyes. He lifted you off of him, your bare feet hitting the wooden floor.

You turned around, pressing your lips to his. You smiled into the kiss, Jacks hands going to help you fix your dress. “How kind of you good sir,” You say teasingly, both of you letting out a genuine chuckle. A loud knock made both of you jump, Jacks eyebrows furrowing.

“Guys i’m not going to come in I know what you guys are up to but everyone’s hungry can you come get married already?” Ben asked. Jack quickly redressed himself, the two of you making sure the other was presentable. Once you both were properly dressed Jack opened the door. Ben’s eyes were buried in his hands. “Ben you can look at us you know,” Jack said, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his mask. The blonde shook his head. You stuck your head out from behind Jack.

“You really don’t wanna see me naked?” You asked curiously. You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Ben quickly looked at you. Jack went to hit him, the blonde dodging his hit. “You gotta be faster than that Jacky boy,” He said teasingly, running down the hallway. Jack looked at you, his blue mask secured to his face. You stood on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss to his mask before encouraging him, “Go get em tiger, i’ll make sure the bridal party is ready.”

The bridal party in question was standing in beside the alter. Toby was your maid of honor, the ticking time bomb the most excited out of the three of them. Masky and Hoodie on the other hand, could not believe you roped them into this. “They’re fucking right now aren’t they?” Masky asked. Their gazes fell on Jack chasing Ben across the yard. “Maybe Ben got a peak, lucky man,” Hoodie snickered. Masky elbowed his partner, rolling his eyes. “They’re going on a honeymoon right? We’re never gonna get any sleep if they stay here after this is over,” Masky grumbled. They watched as Jack tackled Ben, the two tumbling to the ground.

“Where could they even go for a honeymoon?” Hoodie questioned. Toby waved cheerfully as you walked out of the back door. “They’re going to a remote cabin Slender got for them, isn’t that sweet?” He asked, smiling as you wobbled across the yard. Masky and Hoodie exchanged glances before resuming a calm facade. “Ten dollars says she’s pregnant by the time she gets back,” Hoodie said immediately. Masky grabbed a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and showed it to his friends. “Make it twenty, not physically possible,” Masky replied. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Ben climb Jack like a jungle gym, the two in a petty brawl.

“They are aware they’re supposed to be getting married right now right?” Hoodie asked, watching as you smiled and greeted Laughing Jill and Jack. Masky sighed, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a box of cigarettes. “You can’t do that! This is a sacred ceremony!” Toby gasped, his head twitching to the side. Masky dug around in his suit pockets for a lighter. “Yeah yeah it’ll be fine kid. How long are we required to be here anyways? Boss was pretty vague with us,” Masky asked. Toby’s smile was cheerful as Hoodie handed Masky a lighter.

“He said till dawn.”

#eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x reader #jeff the killer x eyeless jack #eyeless jack x jeff the killer #eyeless jack #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta lemon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x ticci toby

[leprosycock]

it's like he's TRYING to look more pedoesque god could he even get any worse

#god there’s something that feels so good about a return to form #i need . i need to finish a fic #i miss him. holy fuck i’m aching #i sincerely hope Iudwig dies for whatever fight he got himself and jrma into #because i know that’s what’s kept them apart #fuck you ahgren i know this is your fault #bunnyaskz