#then the rest of the ending and now i need to finish the middle
Note
for the prompt request #4 “I know I said you could call me anytime, but… It’s the middle of the night” with quinn hughes and a little bit of angst a lil bit of fluff 😁
thank you so much for this request, i love a little angsty/fluff with Quinn 🫶🏼 hope you like this!!
note: i literally never know how to end these and like i know they are meant to be quick little blurbs and nothing crazy but my brain starts going and i wanna end up writing so much 🫠 so sorry if my endings suck sometimes
“I’m gonna kill her…”
Quinn groaned as he heard your ringtone coming from his phone, that he could’ve sworn he’d put on silent. Pulling it from his side table he grumpily answered, “y/n, i swear to god. I know I said you could call me anytime, but…it’s the middle of the night.”
“Quintin Hughes, don’t be mad at me, please?”
Immediately he knew you were drunk by the tone of his voice, and you only ever called him Quintin after one too many vodka lemonades.
“Send me the address, I’ll come and get you.”
Rolling his eyes he hung up the phone, tossing back the covers before throwing on a hoodie and shoes to come pick you up.
You knew Quinn was mad the second you sat down in passenger seat. His jaw clenched as he didn’t even look at you, eyes on the road waiting for the sound of the door closing and the click of your seatbelt signaling for him to drive.
Once back to his place you slowly trailed behind him, Quinn still not saying a word as he disappeared into the kitchen, you heading to his room only to find he’d laid out a tshirt and some shorts for you already. Despite his silence and angered essence in the car, you knew it wasn’t directed at you. At least, not entirely. Quinn had been down since the Canucks playoff exit and his sleep schedule had been a mess. So a late night drunk call after he’d finally fallen asleep at a decent time was not something he was thrilled about.
Quinn soon appeared in the doorway of the bathroom as you were taking off your makeup. A water bottle and some chips in hand. “I thought you might want these?”
His voice soft, laced with exhaustion as you could see on his face just how tired he was.
“Thank you…and I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doors frame. Watching you finish up in the bathroom, the two of you making your way to his room and finding your places on his bed.
“It’s my fault…I didn’t put my phone on silent. Or do not disturb. So I did it to myself.”
Quinn slightly chuckling as he rested his head against the wall, eyes closing as you broke open the water and chips. “Well, I should’ve been more cognizant of the fact that it was so late. I could’ve called someone else.”
He glanced at you with a smirk on his face. “We all know I’m the person you will always call. Drunk y/n loves calling Quintin Hughes to save the day.” Mocking your tone in which you call his name when you’re intoxicated, Quinn laughs while you just blush.
“I can’t help it when you always have water and chips ready to go for me! And it’s the variety pack of chips so it’s always a surprise!”
Quinn shook his head, the funny thing being is that you didn’t make that comment because you were drunk. You were just that much of a good to genuinely enjoy that he kept a variety pack of chips at his place.
“Well, look,” setting the now empty bag of chips on one of his bedside tables you moved to sit more in front of him as you spoke. “I will try and not make these drunk calls a frequent thing. Especially with you’re sleep schedule being a mess right now. I’ll try and be more aware. I’m sorry.”
“Y/n, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t mind taking care of your drunk ass. But maybe just give me a heads up next time if you’re going out, so I’m at least aware that I might be on call.”
“Oh my gosh, should we get pagers? Like doctors used to have back in the day? And I could page you when I need you?”
Reaching behind him, Quinn grabbed a pillow, playfully smacking it across your face. “You’re done, take your drunk ass to bed right now.”
Quinn placing the pillow back behind his head as he rolled over, pulling the covers over him. “Fucking pagers…you are something else y/n.”
He chuckled into the pillow as you couldn’t control your drunken laughter. “Well, just kidding we can scrap that idea.”
“Why?”
Quinn asked as he was trying to calm his laughter. “I don’t think they make pagers anymore. Google says they mostly use phones nowadays. So it looks like your stuck getting calls from my Quintin!”
Rolling over you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close to you as he groaned, “Not unless I block your number.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Quinn laughed at your offended tone, “trust me, Jack drunk called me like crazy once he turned 21 and he got his number blocked for a few weeks. Don’t try me y/n. And if you want to keep your endless supply of water and variety bag chips, I suggest you trust me.”
“Aye aye captain!”
Playfully saluting to him he just covered his face with a pillow as he laughed at you before rolling over.
Smiling to himself he’d finally calmed down from all the laughter, drifting off to sleep. The fastest he’d been able to sleep in weeks, thanks to having you by his side.
#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes#quinn hughes blurb#nhl fic#nhl blurb#nhl imagine#hockey blurb#hockey imagine#Quinn Hughes fluff#Quinn Hughes angst
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just finished writing a majority of the more than pale finale because my bus broke down today and i had several hours to work on it lol
been suuuuuuuper busy this month getting ready to move abroad so its been slow, but im getting to mtp and requests and new stuff!
i want to do it all i promise! time is a bitch!
#or the lack thereof#ive been writing more than pale in this weird order#i wrote half ending then the beginning and half the middle#then the rest of the ending and now i need to finish the middle#anyways#thank u for being patient with me#theres a million fics i wanna write#homestuck and nonhomestuck#soon#ish#homestuck#hs#more than pale
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— THE WAY I LOVED YOU
pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him
warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit
author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌
The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.
It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.
The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.
Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?
“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.
You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.
It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.
Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.
The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.
“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”
“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”
“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”
The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”
“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”
”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”
“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”
“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”
Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”
Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”
Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”
“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.
You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.
Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.
You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.
“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”
“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”
“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”
“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”
“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.
The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.
“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.
You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.
As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.
Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”
You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”
“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”
This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”
You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”
“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”
Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”
The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.
“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.
“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”
Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.
You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.
“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”
“JORDAN.”
“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”
Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.
Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”
Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.
Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”
“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”
Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”
Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.
“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”
“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”
“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.
Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”
“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”
Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”
You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”
Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.
“Theo, don’t you dare.”
He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.
“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”
The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”
Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”
“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”
You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”
Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.
You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.
Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.
You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.
Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”
This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.
Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.
Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”
Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”
© angelfic 2023.
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott scenarios#theodore nott smut#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott imagines#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott
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cologne — nishimura riki
something about your scent just had riki hooked, addicted to you.
pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): suggestive, sorta fluff | content/warning: reader is a uni student, kisses everywhere, hickeys, skinship, hands under clothes
word count: 739
[requested]
author’s note: i worked on this pretty fast. i think it took me likee 20 mins which is alr fast for me. lmk if i missed any warnings and if you guys wanna read more works like this. (not proofread)
[🎧 now playing: cologne by beabadobee]
you were sitting on the long couch that was set right by the tv with riki, tucked into a single throw blanket that covered the both of you. it was an insanely busy week for you in the middle of november. the fall semester’s end had been coming closer and finals week was approaching, and you needed to get your work done. sitting atop your lap was your macbook with around a million tabs opened for the dozens of assignments you had to submit.
the click sounds your keyboard made were heard alongside the movie that was playing on the tv. with riki’s head rested on your shoulder while his eyes were fixed onto the scenes in the movie you two were watching, he couldn’t help but notice on how you were no longer watching the movie, but completing the lengthy tasks you had to do.
riki turned his head towards your laptop screen as his eyes skimmed through the data you’ve written down. “y/n, what’s that? i thought we were supposed to be watching?” he asked you. with your eyes and mind concentrated on the paper you were trying to get done, you respond to riki after a few seconds (you sucked at multitasking and didn’t even notice he was asking you something sooo) “i’mmm…. just trying to get this done. this will be really quick, i promise.” you said. riki watched you as you did your work, but it definitely wasn’t quick.
he got bored and shifted himself closer to your body, still waiting for you to finish. he wrapped his arms around your torso as he slid his hands under the white long-sleeved top you had on. with riki snuggled onto you, he couldn’t help but bring his face closer to your neck, and as he did, he smelt a familiar scent right behind your ear. the sweet notes of cherry blossom, mimosa, and mandarin lingered through the air he was breathing in. riki then placed a kiss on your neck, he just couldn’t get enough. “ki~ hold onnn. please let me finish this paper baby~” you said, playfully pushing his chest back. he found his way back onto your neck, planting kisses all over it. his pink, plump lips trailed down onto your collarbone, sucking on your soft skin, leaving traces and spots of red, purple, and somehow yellow marks everywhere.
“babyy, i need to-“ you tried to say before a subtle moan escaped your lips, with riki sucking the same spot repeatedly. you continue with your words “i need to get extra marks on this assignment. let me do my work first ki, then we can- wait shit-“ you then tossed your head back and let out a moan once more. “the only marks you’re getting are the ones on your neck, y/n” riki says. he gives you a peck on the lips before he continued to kiss your neck. he placed his hand on your nape, using the other one to shut your laptop down, pushing it aside.
this wasn’t a first, it definitely wasn’t. every time you did your school work, errands, household chores, or at least tried to, he’d always find his way into bringing your focus onto him.
you stood up from the couch and discarded the throw blanket that covered the two of you in an attempt to get riki off of you. “kiii~” you said in a whiny tone, still trying to push him off. you tried walking, but he just couldn’t let go of your touch, your voice, your smell, of you. he followed you from behind to the kitchen, where you tried heading in escape of him. his hands were around your torso with his chest pressed against your back. he brought his head onto your shoulder, taking in your scent.
you walked towards one of the cabinets, going on your tip-toes to grab a cup, but as you were opening the cabinet door, riki shuts it back. he then swiftly turns you around, where your eyes locked with his. you jumped up on the counter. now face to face with riki, you kissed his lips which were previously all over you, caressing his cheek and pushing aside the strands of hair that sat on his face. he pulled you in closer as the kiss grew messy. your hands were now holding his shoulders from behind, locking you two into the position you were in while you wrapped your legs around his slender torso.
“still want to do that paper, baby?”
“i’d do you instead.”
#rikigai#rikigai requests#enhypen#enhypen au#enhypen imagines#enhypen niki#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen heeseung#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen jungwon#enhypen sunoo#enhypen riki#riki x reader#niki x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen suggestive#enhypen smut#riki smut#niki smut#niki fluff#riki fluff#riki suggestive#niki suggestive#enha
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@abcdbleh you little beauty 🫶🏼 this is in the “cellular-device-universe” | p1 p2 p3 p4
you had managed an incredible feat, what with bringing your older bf!simon around to the idea of sex over the air waves.
you’d effectively achieved the impossible.
well, something you’d thought impossible given who he was as a person. some guy, simple guy, practical and not remotely interested in anything he doesn’t think worth his time.
that’s the thing- when it comes to you?
everything is worth his time.
you could tell him that you’d booked an all expenses paid couples trip to the fucking moon and he’d have your bags in the car before you’d even finished speaking.
he likes that look on your face when you’re happy.
you’d imagined that getting him to send you videos whilst he stroked his cock would be difficult, but now your hidden folder is bursting at the seams.
you had no idea how easy it’d be to have him send you photos in just his briefs, tattooed arm barely illuminated by low light as his large hand gripped himself through the fabric.
but here you were.
laid back in your bed, awfully roomy without a hulking great simon to take up three quarters of it, your phone was pressed to your ear.
“what y’mean, love?”
the deep, rolling rumble of his voice would probably do it if you tried hard enough. you could have him read the menu from the local chinese takeout and make do. he just had that effect on you.
“i mean- i want you to touch yourself and talk me through it, si”
you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, a stuttered little exhale and a crackle over the line. he was in the middle of nowhere (far as you were concerned) but he could still find it to keep you satisfied.
simon would never have you settle for less.
the quiet you could hear on his end wasn’t nerves, you knew him well enough to immediately detect- inexperience?
there was very little simon didn’t know how to do in the bedroom but bring any virtual factors (like a cellphone) and he just needed a couple directions.
he needed an order.
“si, i want to get off to your voice, the sound of you touching yourself- i want you to cum and i want to hear about it in excruciating detail”
you could hear how scratchy his military grade blanket was, woollen and likely older than you, being pushed down his body.
no shuffle of clothing, he was already stark naked in his cot. he’d been with rest of the 141 long enough, you just assume they’ve all seen each other in their entireties. sharing rooms, sharing showers.
you can’t think about that kind of thing too long. the implications that come with it.
the sound of simon spitting in his palm drags you out of steam filled visions, kyle asking your boyfriend for help getting his back, johnny watching wide-eyed but waiting for his signal.
anyway- anyways, the sound of his large palm dragging along his cock had you back in the present for good. you could almost picture the way his foreskin would be rolling down the head.
“already s’fuckin hard for you”
“i bet”
a bet that’d make you a billionaire.
you could count on simon for a lot of things but as sure as the sun rises in the east, that man would be hard for you.
you’d say a gentle breeze would do it. he’d say only if you were blowing.
cheek of him.
faint sounds, faint sounds of his hand tugging on himself but you needed more. you needed it fucking filthy and unmistakable across the line that he was doing one thing.
“more spit, si- need to hear it”
and you could, spit mixed with the leaking pre-cum that was running from his head. soon the sound was circling your eardrums as he worked up a steady rhythm.
“been lookin’ at y’little pictures”
deep sigh as he said it, like he was thinking back to you in compromising positions. you could almost see him with his eyes drifting shut, phone between his ear and shoulder whilst both hands preoccupied by his cock and balls.
“can’t hardly wait to get home to you”
as one hand stroked along his length, running his fingers over the head, the other would be cupping his heavy sack as he rolled them both in his palm.
“y’been teasing me, sweet’art”
large feet would be planted on the threadbare mattress, his thighs tensing the more he tugged himself off. you knew he’d be imagining you in his lap, doing all the work for him so he could focus on running his mouth.
“jus’y wait till i get m’hands on you”
your heart was in your throat with every word he said, you’d no doubt he’d stay true to his word. you had visions of him throwing the front door open and telling you to run.
finding you crawling across the bed to duck down the other side but his grip tightening around your ankle before you could get away.
you had to leave that feeling in the pit of your stomach before you got lightheaded but, as usual, simon knew you better.
“what’s goin’ on in that pretty head f’yours? thinkin’ about all the nasty things i’ll do t’you?”
a squeak of a moan slipped out of you, back arching in the bed as simon chuckled down the line. he always knew exactly what he was doing to you.
calculated man, comes with the territory.
“first thing i’m gonna’ do is stuff my cock in’y, got a couple’a loads saved up just f’you”
you couldn’t imagine how, all the filthy videos he’d been sending you. thick load after thick load spilt over his chest, his thighs, the shower drain.
but, then again, you’ve yet to find a thing he wouldn’t do for you.
“gonna’ keep y’in that fuckin’ bed till y’begging f’mercy”
you could hear it on his voice, the strain that was behind it. he was close, closer than ever but you couldn’t stop him once you got him going.
whenever he was on that precipice of bliss, the things that’d come out of his mouth could turn you inside out.
“gonna’ cum f’you, sweet’art- need you to-“
the blood was rushing so hard in your ears you nearly missed his words as they tapered off into broken moans. nearly missed.
“what d’you need, si? tell me, whatever you need it’s yours”
distant filthy sounds of a wet palm sliding along his cock was ever present in the background of the call. a long sigh drifted from his lips as he spoke.
“tell me t’cum, please”
jesus fucking christ.
there’s no coming back from the sound of simon riley begging.
“cum f’me, simon- need to hear you- make a mess f’me, baby”
the sound that left his chest was filthy, a deep groan intertwined with the sounds of cheap mattress springs. breathy stuttered moans broke through, your name a constant on the tip of his tongue.
he sounded desperate, no doubt still stroking himself even as his hips lifted off the cot. he wasn’t about making it easy on himself.
everything he did was for you.
listening as he rode it out, you could hear him still muttering between the other debauched sounds.
“fuckin’ take it, s’fuckin’ good f’me”
anther broken cry of your name only confirmed it. in simon’s eyes, he wasn’t pumping his cum across in his chest, he was pumping you full of it.
he’d gone too long without the feeling of you wrapped tight around him, only knowing the rough drag of his palm. he’d give anything to be in his bed, buried to the fucking hip in you.
simon’s breathing evened out, broad chest rising and falling with a sticky sheen across it. you could even make out the sound of his head hitting the pillow.
“fucking ‘ell, sweet’art- how was that?”
nothing if not an overachiever.
“perfect, si- you did absolutely perfect”
if he was with you he’d been keening into your touch, a soft side of him that only you were allowed to see.
softening further in his afterglow, you wrapped up with praises and promises to be waiting for him soon as he got home.
your entire body felt like it could sink through the mattress as you curled into his side of the bed, letting the scent of him overwhelm every part of you.
eyes shutting on their own, you’d nearly hit sleep when your cellphone buzzed on the bedside table. a little bleary eyed, you reached for it in the darkness.
“si sent a photo”
your heart sped up, teeth digging into your lower lip as you slide the message open. your screen went from light to dark in an instant.
thick thighs spread apart, toned barrel chest, tattooed arm, and a slightly scarred chin in the shot. in this light you could see it, so faint but still there, the streaks of cum dripping down the lines of his stomach.
the grip on your phone was so tight you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered in your hands. in the corner of your screen, those three dots were taunting you.
your phone buzzed, you could almost hear it in his voice.
“could really do w’you here to clean me up, sweet dreams sweet’art”
#clinically insane need to be studied unsettling to some inexplicable to others#i need him more than i need air in my lungs#older bf!simon#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley drabble#simon riley blurb#simon ghost riley blurb
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kiss - Matt Sturniolo
summary: when your best friend matt invites you round for a late night hang out, it ends up in him confessing his feelings to you... leading to you kissing your best friend of 8 years for the first time.
contains: fluff, slight arguing, confession, making out.
---------------------┌── •✧• ──┐-----------------
i've known matt since 8th grade, we met in science class where he spilt acid on my shirt. after that we became lab partners, then friends, then best friends.
9:34pm
"matt!!" i sing, opening the door to his bedroom and walking in. his gaze lifts from his laptop screen to me, his face lights up. he's wearing a black shirt with white detailing and some grey sweatpants, he's sat up against the pile of pillows on his bed.
"i missed you!" matt smiles, patting the spot next to him.
i jump on to his bed next to him and cuddle up to his sides, resting my head on his shoulder.
"how have you been?" matt exclaims, rubbing my shoulder as i instantly start talking,
in our friendship i've always been the talker, matt's a natural listener so it's an easy dynamic for us.
"guess what happened when i was drving here, this bitch flew on to the road on a scooter! i swerved so hard to miss her, and- and she was fully grown on a scooter!?" i scoff,
matt rubs his eyes with a laugh, "jesus christ." matt scoffs.
i look to my side at him, "like if i totalled my car dodging a middle-aged woman on a children's scooter i'd be so pissed." i continue, matt's in tears now, a stupidly wide smile spread across his pink cheeks.
i sigh, "anyways, netflix?" i suggest, reach onto matts lap and yank his laptop further up his torso. "yeah!" matt replies, he scrolls through netflix and picks out some rom-com
"a rom com? you're feeling romantic today," i tease, matt jabs his fingers into my waist, earning a scream from me followed by a loud giggle.
the opening scene to the movie starts, i cuddle closer to matt's side and wrap a leg over his thigh, matt goes tense and i subtly hear his breathing pick up.
"you okay?" i whisper, matt nods.
"matt why don't you talk to me about things, i've known you since we were 12 you can tell me stuff." i sigh,
"im fine- i'm okay." matt insists, his cheeks are flushed now.
"i know but you've been distance recently, and i don't understand what i've done wrong?" i mumble, pausing the movie and pushing the screen down.
"its not you y/n." matt states,
"then what is it!" i argue back,
"oh my fucking god do you not get it?" matt says, i sit up and look down at him, my eyebrows twisted.
"you are so- so gorgeous. everything about you is perfect and i'm sorry, i'm sorry if this ruins things between us but i'm completely obsessed with you, i really really like you and i have for much longer than i'd rather admit. so i'm sorry if i'm being distant but its painful to be around you without the constant need to fucking tell you- how much i need you."
my mouth falls open, i've always thought matt was cute, i've just pushed it away.
matt looks at me, scanning over my face as he breathes deeply, his eyebrows slanted upwards out of nerves.
"you mean it-" before i can finish my sentence matt cuts me off, "yes- i fucking do." he whines, running a hand through his hair as he sits up.
his laptop slides off his lap, i crawl over and sit on his lap while he props himself up on the headboard.
i grab his chin, making him look up at me as i get comfortable straddling him.
"you should've told me baby." i whisper, the pet name makes matt's eyes widen.
"because you've always been cute matt, just my type yeah?"
"dont lie please.." matt shys
i smirk before pressing our lips together, his lips are plush and soft, i've always wondered what they would feel like against mine.
"oh my god." matt breathes against my lips, my heart thumps out of my chest as i place a hand on his shoulder, rocking my hips against the fabric of his sweatpants.
matt glides his tongue over my bottom lip, asking for permission which i quickly grant. his tongue slips inside my mouth, fighting mine for dominance.
his ringed hands lace into my brunette hair, pushing my head further towards his.
his spare hand finds its way to my ass, pushing me against his lap harder, a pathetic whine escapes my mouth, matt chuckles against my lips before pulling away.
"don't get too worked up sweetheart." matt teases, i scoff
"shut up"
i lean back slightly, his face scans over mine "was that okay..?" he asks shyly like he wasn't just pressing me down onto his clothed cock 15 seconds ago.
"that was really.. fucking good." i laugh, laying down on his body and burying my head on his shoulder, i press small kisses on his neck, marking lightly.
"what.. are we?" he asks,
"what do you want to be?" i reply,
"you don't have to say yes- this is random but, do you want to maybe.. will you be my girlfriend." matt asks quietly,
i laugh slightly "you're so stupid matt,"
he goes silent, i give him a proper reply before he starts to panic
"yes, yes matt i will be your girlfriend." i smile,
matt grabs both sides of my face and smashes his lips to mine again, smiling widely against my lips.
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@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferoo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle
#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine
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Pushed to the Edge
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Trigger: angst, cheating, suicide, death
Word Count: 3k
Summary: You were the official seer of Night Court for nearly 500 years. the Inner Circle had always listened to you and your visions; however, when the Archeron sisters came and Elain started to show her powers, your family started to shift their attention to her visions. When you try to voice your warnings about the death-lord’s resurrection, everyone gave you the cold shoulder, ignoring your prophesies — this included your mate.
Note: no hate to Azriel or Elain, it just helped with the plot. and Also, I know it's completely unreasonable for Azriel to not have the Truth-Teller be with him at all times, just go with it for now. And I am working on “Reach Your Voice” Series, I’m still trying to figure out how to make sure each of our boys spends quality time with the reader.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue
<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist
“That sounds absolutely absurd… How many times will you try to warn about something that will never happen?”
Your voiced died in your throat as you watched Rhysand look at you with apprehension before focusing on the paperwork in front of him.
You had ran into his office, waking up in cold sweat after another vision of another Death God crawling it’s way back into Prythian. You had tried to forewarn your High Lord for weeks on end ever since you first saw that vision. However, your warnings had been ignored by Rhysand. You knew that it sounded impossible, you knew that, Prythian had just finished a war — one that almost destroyed the world.
After the war with the King of Hybern, Prythian was slowly returning to its normal … well, attempting to fix what was broken by the King. The Night Court was healing, trying to rebuild itself again to its glory, helping other Courts to fix the damages that the war caused. Rhysand had been through an ordeal, losing his life to save Prythian and you knew that your High Lord was still recuperating from that tragedy. You knew that your High Lady was as well, almost losing her mate.
They didn’t need another war to happen when peace had barely returned.
But you also knew there was another reason your High Lord had been ignoring your for forewarning. You looked to the side, one where the rest of the Inner Circle was watching the confrontation. Cassian and Nesta, sitting close to each other, a glass of wine in their hands, whispering to each other, mostly likely about you and your vision. You could barely pick up with your keen Fae hearing on what they were saying.
“Do you think what she’s saying is real? That Koschei is trying to come back?”
“Elain hasn’t seen it though…”
The whisper of the middle Archeron child echoed in your ears as you looked at the Made Fae. She sat next to the window, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle like the sun rested on you before turning over to the male that she was sitting with. Your gaze followed hers to Azriel — your mate— but you can see that he didn’t bother to glance in your direction, only to focus on the delicate female next to him.
It hurt. You watched as the two of them conversed, glancing back in your direction before focusing on each other.
It was no secret, not for you, on Elain’s growing infatuation for the Shadowsinger, and in turn his own growing affections for the middle Archeron child — and in turn, losing his love for you.
You woke up in an empty bed, your mate missing from his side. You tried to talk to Cassian about how his day went, on if he would still train you with the Valkyries if he had time. You tried to converse with Rhysand and Feyre, seeing if they were healing properly after the war, wanting to make sure your High Lord and Lady were safe. You sought after you mate, wanting to spend even a second with him.
But they disregarded you so easily. Especially after they had found out that Elain had similar powers to you, one that was gifted to her by the Cauldron — one that was deemed more powerful than your own.
Your role as the Official Seer of Night Court was granted to you after Helion had sent you as an emissary for Day Court. Helion had found you wandering around Day Court lands. You had been a wandering child, with no real attachment to any Court, abandoned in the streets by your family at the age of five when your seer powers started to come into light. Helion had taken you in when you were ten, helped you hone your powers. Being a seer had been a mystery, no one in your heritage (that you were aware of) was a seer. And it baffled Helion on why such a remarkable gift had been casted aside.
You had stayed with the Night Court, gaining their trust and friendship for five centuries, gaining your own little foothold in their family. You had been a pillar when Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain for nearly fifty years. You helped Mor and Armen with the official Night Court Duties, trained with Cassian to ensure you were strong enough to fight when neither he nor Azriel was there.
During your time protecting Valeris from the eyes of Amarantha, your mating bond with the Shadowsinger snapped. It had been difficult at the start, both of you were still struggling with the disappearance of your High Lord, along with the weight of protecting the very city he hidden from view. But during that time, you became each other’s pillar, each other’s comfort in such a dark time. Falling in love with Azriel wasn’t difficult.
But keeping his love, apparently, was the most difficult.
When the Archeron sister’s came into everyone’s lives, it caused a tip in the scales. You loved Feyre, you loved your High Lady. You would do anything in your power to ensure she was safe and well cared for. But for the Cauldron-Made sisters, it was difficult for you to accept them.
They were different. You couldn’t see anything about them, as if the Cauldron had masked them from you powers. It made you terrified of them. Feyre and Rhysand had tried to assure you that the Archeron sisters deemed no threat to the Night Court. And you trusted them — trusted your High Lord and Lady without a blink of an eye. And yes, while their words deemed true, you did not realize that they were a different type of threat. One that would eventually lose your foothold in the Night Court.
You swallowed, your throat parched as you glanced from the sight of your mate and Elain speaking to one another to Rhysand and then to Feyre who had stood next to him. She gave you a worried look, wondering what you were wanting to tell them.
The air was tense, the declaration from your High Lord seeming to echo in your surroundings — he had deemed your vision to be false. And he had never done that before.
“… But…” you whispered, your voice nothing but wind in such a large room, “… I’ve seen it so many times, Rhys. Someone is trying to resurrect him. That they need a piece of something from the Cauldron — -”
“The Cauldron is with Miryam and Drakon… in Creta. There is no way that anyone would be able to use that power again,” Rhysand’s tone was taut, as if trying to drawn a line between the truth and your vision, “Your vision must be wrong, (Y/N). There is no way that Koschei can be resurrected from that lake.”
Another swallow, “But what if it doesn’t have to be the Cauldron itself. It could be something that was Made from the Cauldron.”
Rhysand’s eyes snapped up from his desk, up to you, eyes darkening at the words you were insinuating, “—- What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”
You let out a shaky breath, eyes shifting down to your hands, fiddling with your fingernails — a habit that you’ve had ever since you were a child — one that would leave your hands raw from removing skin, ‘… Nesta and Elain were Made from the Cauldron. If it were to get word to the followers of Koschei, they… they could be in danger. The power that resides in them is the Cauldron… Nesta took something from the Cauldron and did not return it… They could be looking for that.”
It was already bad that you were trying to suggest a return of a Death God, months after a war with Hybern, but it was worse that you were even implying that the sisters were the center of being in danger again.
A dark shadow stood in front of you and you looked up to see Azriel. The golden string that connected the two of you sung, it had been weeks since Azriel went near you, but you knew that his side of the bond was shut, enshroud by shadows, completely shutting you out.
“Az—-” you said his name, as if it was a prayer, hoping he’d be the voice of reason. That he would back up you and your visions. As he always had in the past.
“How can we know that your visions are truth, (Y/N)? There are two Seers in the Night Court now, and yet you are the only one who sees this.”
Your ears rang, a high pitch noise echoing through them as disbelief shook your body. Azriel never distrusted you, never doubted your visions and your forewarnings.
The bond in you ached, as if it was burning you on the inside. Tears lined your eyes as you looked up at your mate, brows furrowing, “…How could you, Azriel?” you muttered, the pain lining your tone, “How can you not trust me?” your voice small.
“Because Elain hasn’t seen it,” was all he had to say.
Hot tears ran your cheeks, as you shakily stepped back from the male that had towered you. You glanced at Cassian and Nesta who looked at you, their eyes inattentive to the pain that you were feeling. You glanced at your High Lord, who looked at you with disinterest. You looked at your High Lady, the only person in the room that seemed to have noticed your pain and anguish, as she took a step towards you way, only to be stopped by Rhysand, his hand around her wrist.
“… So, just because the Cauldron-Made Seer hasn’t seen it, doesn’t mean that it is going to happen?” you asked, your question in the air for everyone to think, “… Just because I wasn’t a Seer Made by the Cauldron, that my visions and my words are not real? That I am a lesser of a Seer than her?”
“(Y/N)—-” Feyre, the voice of reason, called our your name.
You took a step back again, head shaking at them, “I’ve worked my life off for the Night Court. Ensuring that your city is safe, making sure that any danger would never step past the wards that you have put up. I have never hidden anything from any of you. I used my visions and my powers for all of you. And yet…” your voice shook at the end, not believing anything that was happening in front of you, “You disregard me… the moment a better Seer shows up. One that is Cauldron-Made… one that you…” eyes shifting to Azriel, “Deems more suitable for you.
“I’ve seen it. Not only in my visions but here with you all. You have decided to all turn a blind eye to it, decided not to tell me about it. Three sisters for three brothers, isn’t it, Azriel?”
Azriel’s form stiffed in front of you — he did not think that you would have heard that.
You were done, you were tired. You were tired of the lies and the deceit from whom you thought were family.
Feyre’s brows furrowed as she looked at you and then her elder sisters before the back of Azriel. Rhysand stood up as well, standing next to his High Lady at your declaration.
“… What are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Feyre asked, watching your form shake.
“Don’t you lie to me…” you muttered, glaring at your High Lady, “Don’t you dare lie that you have not seen it. Don’t you dare tell me that you have not noticed that Azriel and Elain have been together all this time. That you have turned a blind eye that a mated male would be infatuated, would fall in love with someone else that was not his Cauldron-bound mate. Don’t you dare lie to me you have not all seen it, and have ignored it and not tell me about it.
“You also have all disregarded me and my visions, ever since Elain started to show her own powers. You have all deemed, even without you telling me, that my powers are not worthy enough. That you all would listen to her cryptic visions rather than my own.”
Your words were rushed, you were hyperventilating to the point that your visions swam, but you shook your head, focusing on the scene unfolding — Feyre’s surprised look, Nesta and Cassian staring wide-eye at Elain before glancing at the Shadowsinger in front of you and your High Lord gripping the edge of the table, his violet eyes clearing as if he was in a trance, as if his mind has been cleared and he realized what he has done and what was unfolding with his family.
“No, (Y/N), that’s not what we meant…” he tried to reason, try to gain back your trust in the found family you had with them.
You scrunched your face, shaking your head as you looked at your High Lord before back at your mate, “…That’s what you have meant for the months you have been ignoring my forewarnings. Been ignoring me. Because Elain’s powers are better than mine, you have casted me aside…” Another step back, glancing at the grand door behind you before you glanced back at the family who had lost you, to the mate that had broken your entire being, “You had decided, to your own conscious, to fall in love with someone else, who is bound to someone else, just because you deemed that the Cauldron was wrong. I don’t understand what I have done to you, Azriel… when I have spent nearly five-hundred years with you, fifty years with you as your mate. And you, knowing Elain for a mere five minutes, throwing all that away…”
Azriel looked at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring you down. He watched as tears continued to flood down your cheeks, your form shaking even further. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t just stand here and be the object that they throw away.
So, you ran, ran out of that room, your name echoing behind you as your dress swirled behind you. You climbed up the spiraling stairs to your shared room with Azriel, throwing up the strongest ward you can muster behind you and around you. You couldn’t handle it.
You couldn’t handle the echo of the bond in your chest, you couldn’t handle the empty stare of your mated looking at you. You couldn’t handle the thought that you were so easily replaceable. A sob escaped your lips as you rummaged through Azriel’s drawer of weapons, pulling out the one weapon that he never is without — Truth-Teller. Dark tendrils of shadow gripped your wrist as you looked around you, Azriel’s shadows surrounding you.
That was where his shadows went — they had always disappeared when he was around Elain, yet they were here with you.
Frantic knocks startled you as you grasped the weapon close to your chest, your head whipping around towards the door. You heard them — Feyre’s panicked voice, Rhysand’s apologizes, Cassian yelling your name. But you didn’t hear that one voice that you had loved — you knew Azriel wasn’t there.
That had pushed you. Gripping the weapon, you moved to the bathroom, the shadows following your every movement. As you kneeled down on the marble floor, you felt the tug of the shadows against your hand, trying to will the weapon out of your grip — attempting you to stop at a take of your life.
You had always loved the shadows that surrounded Azriel, both physically and metaphorically speaking. They had always comforted you, protected you, always had been there for both of you when times were tough. But this was one of the times that you didn’t want them protecting you, comforting you.
“Please..” you begged at them. Whether or not they would listen or sprint off to their master, they backed off, though a few tendrils stayed behind, slithering around your wrist, holding Truth-Teller, as if a reminder not to do it. But you had made your mind — you couldn’t stay and be pushed to the side. Not anymore.
And with a last breath impaled yourself with your mate’s beloved knife, the very knife he had handed Elain during the war, was the last thing you remembered. As your body fell against the marbled floor, your soul leaving your body, you felt the tendrils of shadow frantically skim over your body, as if to try to find a piece of life still clinging onto you. Eyes looked and watched as the ward was broken and your High Lord and Lady skidding towards your body as your soul left for the skies above, the cool feeling of shadow never leaving your body.
A gasp escaped your lips, the dull ache on your chest making you rub at it.
“— - What…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as if not used for a century.
“That Shadowsinger did not know what he had decided to let go, huh…” A voice, one so dark and so familiar echoing.
You knew that voice, that voice that haunted you in your visions for weeks — the same voice that you tried to warn your family about. Eyes opening, you were surrounded by the dark, the voice of the Death-God echoing around you.
“I should have died…” you voiced to no-one.
A laugh echoed around you, “You did, (Y/N), but you forget that I am a Death-God… And I can resurrect anyone I wish. Now, that your family has abandoned you, why don’t you join me. Show them what happens when a Seer of your capacity has been cast aside. I should have had you when that original family of yours stranded you, but that damn High Lord of Day found you first. Anyway… come child…”
You laid there, in the darkness, before you shakily reach out a hand, before spiny fingers grasped onto yours and pulled you out of that darkness.
#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar angst#a court of thorns and roses#( .one shot : pushed to the edge )
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part 1
this is a part 2 to another fic i did, but can be read as a stand alone!
post!prison reid x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot
summary: after being put on a case with you, spencer realizes he might not hate you as much as he thought.
MDNI 18+
unfortunately, when working for the bau, having time off is very rare. you and spencer were harshly reminded of this. right after your successful arrest of the unsub at the nightclub, you were immediately put on a plane, incredibly sexually frustrated, on your way to another case.
you and spencer had (luckily or unluckily) ended up next to each other on a plane ride to the middle of nowhere in wisconsin. there had been a string of murders in the small town of hayward. four were dead and the unsubs rate of death was accelerating.
the flight was a little under six hours. just sitting next to spencer was excruciating.
the rest of the team had fallen asleep and although you attempted to sleep, you were simply just too horny. not being able to finish earlier, mixed with sheer anticipation had taken over you. you tossed and turned in your seat, a blanket pulled up to your chest. you open your eyes to look at spencer who had a book in his hands, his eyes on you.
you smile softly, sitting upright to get a better look at the handsome man.
“are you okay?" he asks softly, his kind voice still new for you. you nod, watching as he sets his book down over his crotch. hes still hard.
"i'm okay." you respond with a smile. "just, y'know..." you trail off trying to put your thoughts into words.
he laughs softly, completely understanding what you mean. "earlier.” he finishes your sentence with a smirk on his face.
“well i would ask how you feel about ‘earlier’, dr. reid,” you begin, your had moving from the armrest to rub against his chest. “but i can already tell.” you move your had quickly down his chest and hover your hand over his obviously hard cock in his pants. he gasps softly as you use one finger to trace the shape of him.
“fuck.” he groans, the use of a curse word throwing you off (and turning you on). “please.” he begs as you push softly on his cock, feeling a wet spot from precum already forming.
“use your words.” you demand, kindly, your dominance going straight to his dick. spencer liked being dominant, which he most definitely was going to be when the plane fucking lands, but right now he wanted to be taken care of. he needed to be taken care of.
“touch me.” he says simply as you begin to undo his belt quietly.
“ok, pretty boy, but i’m going to need you to keep quiet, can you do that?” you reply, reaching your hand into his underwear, pulling his hard cock out. he was huge, bigger than you would’ve guessed, especially for a relatively skinny guy. his tip was red and angry, begging for your attention.
“yes.” he says breathlessly, watching you hold his cock. you smile, throwing your blanket over his lap and over your arm, deciding that sucking him off would make too much noise.
you use your pointer finger to spread his precum over the tip of his cock, eliciting a muffled groan from the man.
you begin to move your hand down his cock, causing spencer to cover his mouth with his hand. his pupils were blown and his chest rising and falling fast. it was an amazing sight.
you felt yourself getting wet as your hand began to move faster on his cock.
“this feels so good.” he says, his praise only fueling your desire. the man bites back a moan just watching you concentrate on letting him cum.
“fuck, y/n,” he gasps out his hips bucking into your hand. “i’m close.” you pick up your pace a bit, making the handsome man roll his eyes back in his head and cum all over your hand. you stand up and take a look around the jet to make sure everyone was still asleep. luckily, penelope garcia had given the whole team noise cancelling headphones for christmas, so no one heard a thing.
you smile leaning in to give him soft kiss on the lips before walking to the bathroom to wash off your hands. when you return, spencer's eyes are closed and you can't help but kiss his cheek. he opens his eyes slowly, reaching up to grab your waist and pull you onto him. he throws the blanket over your bodies and kisses your forehead softly.
you squirm slightly, still feeling horny. he looks up at you, eyes barely open. "your turn?" he asks, referring to your pleasure. you laugh softly shaking your head. he was half asleep and still offering to make you happy. "no, its okay pretty boy, we'll save that for later." he nods, a smile on his face.
"are you sure?" he asks, turning his head so he could look you in the eyes, perhaps to see if you were lying.
"yes, i promise." he kisses you on the forehead before falling asleep, his arms around you.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
although you managed to get some sleep in spencer's arms, you knew that soon enough someone would wake up and you both would get caught. so, an hour after falling asleep on the handsome man, you painfully peeled yourself off of his lap and back into your own cold seat.
luckily, no one had (seemingly) seen anything, which was good.
as of now, you were leaving the plane to go to the hayward precinct.
"we'll check in with the chief of police, then dave and i will stay over night while you guys go to the inn and get some sleep." emily announced as they began piling into two large black suburbans.
they collectively thanked prentiss and rossi before heading to the inn.
"wait so when she says inn..." you ask, climbing the the back seat. jj nods.
"yeah, this is a small town so there isn't really any place for us to stay near by."
tara climbs in the passengers seat and luke slides in next to you.
the rest of the ride there was relatively normal, minus a few jokes about you & spencer's make out session at the night club, that you chose to ignore.
you arrived to the inn quickly, grabbing your designated room key and head to your room.
“fuck!” you yell, surprised to see someone already in your room.
“shhh.” spencer says, coming up to close the door behind you, taking your bags from your hands and setting them down by his feet.
“i missed you.” he says, causing you to roll your eyes.
“it’s been like thirty minutes, pretty boy.” he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. you laugh as he picks you up easily and carries you over to the queen sized bed.
“i’ve just been thinking about earlier.” he says, laying down next to you.
“oh yeah?” you say, turning you head to face him.
“uh huh,” he says, pulling your body closer to him allowing you to lay your head on his chest. “i want to make you cum now.” he says, his voice low. you look up at him allowing him to tip his head down to kiss your lips.
“jj.. is.. next.. door.” you huff out in between kisses. spencer shrugs, flipping your position so he’s on top of you. he begins kissing and biting down your jaw and neck, using his hands to expertly remove your shirt. he lets out a small groan when he rips the shirt off you, revealing your tiny, lacy bra.
“off please.” is all you manage to say, but somehow he understands. he unclasps your bra in a single motion, throwing it to the floor, exposing your hardened nipples.
“y/n..” he says lowly, his eyes filled with lust. “so pretty.” he continues to trail kisses down your neck and chest, until his mouth lands on your tit, sucking softly as his other hand teases your other nipple.
you groan softly, that familiar wet feeling returning in your underwear for the third time in 24 hours.
although you’ve just started, your groans and boobs had already gone straight to spencer’s cock and as he kissed your body you could already feel his hardness pressed on your leg.
you buck your hips up against spencer, begging for some friction.
“i need you inside of me, spencer.” the use of his name he was so unfamiliar with made his pants grow tighter.
“so needy.” he jokes with a smile, moving to remove your pants, his mouth watering at the sight of your covered pussy, a perfect wet spot in the center.
“so, so pretty.” he sighs, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling it off of your legs.
without warning he inserts two of his fingers in you, causing you to gasp and moan at the new sensation. you slowly attempt to remove his shirt as pleasure blinds your senses.
soon enough, spencer is moving down to attach his mouth on your cunt. “spence, please, im gonna cum. i need you inside me.” you moan, your back arching. this garners a moan from the handsome man, his noises echoing in your pussy.
you expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. you feel your walls begin to tighten as he returns his fingers into you, allowing you to finally cum.
you moan and groan, his name on your lips.
even though your only semi cognizantas you recover from your high, you can’t help but notice the way spencer has begun to crash his hips against the bed.
“inside me.” you demand, your breathing heavy. spencer smiles as he removes his pants, leaving just his boxers, and crawls over top of you. he captures your lips in a heated and sloppy kiss, the remnants of your orgasm on his lips.
you reach down, breaking the kiss to remove his underwear, his hard and leaking cock sticking straight up. you smile as he pecks your lips, moving himself so his cock is aligned with your entrance.
he glides his cock over your slit a few times, causing you to beg him to be inside you. you’ve never felt this desperate before. he slowly pushes his large dick into you, causing you to groan, slightly in pain due to his size.
“you okay, baby?” he whispers, noticing your discomfort. you nod as your walls adjust, his size now feeling incredible.
he begins to pump his cock in and out, immediately hitting you in your sweet spot.
“fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back. he uses his hand to move your face back, towards him.
“i want to see your pretty face when you cum, y/n.” he says, in almost a demanding manner, but still with kind undertones.
his words don’t fail to turn you on, somehow even more.
“oh, you like that?” he says through a moan, as his pace quickens, the leud sounds of his cock driving deep inside you, mixed with moans, fill the small room.
“i’m close,” spencer admits, through breathy moans. you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a deep moan.
you feel his dick twitch inside you as rubs your clit with his fingers.
“cum inside me, please.” you beg, feeling your core tighten around him, your release nearing.
“are you sure?” he asks, his movements becoming more sloppy, his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat.
“yes!” you confirm as you reach your climax for the second time, spencer following quickly.
his hot cum fills you up as he continues his movements, riding you both through your highs.
when you’ve both had a second to catch your breaths, he pulls out of you, leaving you full of his cum, but missing his cock. you smile as he gives you a slow kiss, laying down next to you.
“you’re so perfect.” he whispers into your hair as you lay your head on his chest. you smile, happy, but a little confused how just over a day ago you couldn’t stand this beautiful man.
a/n: thank you all for 100 followers and so much love on my last post. as someone new to tumblr it seriously means a lot. just so you know, my requests are open!!!! thanks again🫶🫶🫶
#spencer reid imagine#spenceobsessed#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#smut#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic#fanfic#criminal minds smut#imagine
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The Scare
Synopsis: A terrifying crash puts Y/n in an even more terrifying situation, and it affects everyone, in the end.
young female driver x 2023 F1 Grid
A/N: for this one, valtteri is retired and reader has taken his seat at alfa romeo
also, @badassturtle13 you requested a fic like this a month or two ago while i was in my writers block-era, but if you remember your ask and would still like to read it, here it is
You knew the risk. All twenty of you did. That’s how yet got into these cars every weekend. But that doesn’t make it any easier when you actually face the risks.
You weren’t the biggest fan of the Las Vegas Grand Prix from the start. You knew the planning for it was rough, and that there were a lot of elements of the weekend that everybody was unsure of.
You weren’t exactly surprised when the reasoning behind the storm drain incident was released after Free Practice 1, or when race directors revealed they didn’t even look at the predicted weather for this weekend.
But there wasn’t much you could do about either, about any of it really, so you put your head down and focused on your car.
You joined Alfa Romeo as the third rookie of the 2023 season, and although you and Zhou weren’t getting wins and podiums each weekend, you finished in the points nearly every race, and helped bring your team up to 8th in the Constructors Championship.
As of the second to last race, you were having a good first season; you and Zhou got along great, your team trusted you, and you liked getting to know and hanging out with the rest of the grid. Specifically, your closest friends Logan and Oscar, who you were walking with in the paddock before Sunday’s race.
“Is it bad that I’m not excited for the race?” Oscar asks from the middle of you three, as you walk down the grid.
“I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to start P17 either” You admit.
“You’re gonna be fine Oscar, you’ve made your way up the field before, you’ll do it again” Logan shrugs, assuring him.
Oscar nods as you speak up with the beginning of a smirk on your face. “When you make it up the field and into the points, along with me and Logan, what are we doing to celebrate?”
“No. No, we have-” Oscar’s already shaking his head as Logan laughs. “I know some of the grid is going to a club a few blocks away, you guys wanna go?”
“Yes,” You rush to say after you see Oscar start to protest. “we’ll go. No objections”
“We have flights tomorrow-” You interrupt the Australian. “I don’t care, we should all go. And I have to leave now so you can’t say no” You point out as you near the Alfa Romeo garage. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully as Logan continues to laugh.
“Good luck Y/n, see you after the race” Logan says, still chuckling as Oscar waves and continues down the paddock with the American by his side.
You greet Zhou as you walk towards your drivers room to meet with your trainer. The last 20 minutes you have before you’re needed on the track is spent doing reflex tests and speaking with the strategists one last time.
You leave the garage to stand for the national anthem after a brief Grid Walk interview with Martin, and quickly return for the formation lap.
“Alright Y/n,” Your team principle, Alessandro, comes over your radio as you’re pulling out into the pit lane. “do your best to maintain P7 or higher, just be aware of the tires. Stay safe, good luck”
“Thanks, will do. See you at the finish line” You reply before flipping down your visor and accelerating onto the track.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a cold night here in Las Vegas, but the city is awake and ready to watch the last U.S race of the 2023 season. Our drivers are approaching the starting line, the five lights are coming on, and it’s light’s out and away we go!”
You manage to pull away from Magnussen behind you and advance closer to Logan in front of you as you near Turn 1. You get through the first and second lap fine, until your race engineers Alex, informs you that Lando’s crashed during Lap 3, and the 19 drivers remaining are being led by the safety car until Lap 7.
You think your race will be uneventful past that point until you notice the reluctance in the car’s breaking during Lap 19. “There’s something wrong with my brakes, it’s getting hard to slow down” You radio concerned, back to your team.
“Stand by Y/n, we’re checking” Alex tells you as you approach Turn 1 on the next lap. After a few moments without an update, you radio again.
“Anything? It’s getting bad, I can’t slow down” Your voice shows your clear concern. It’s clear to everyone that you’re getting more and more distressed each minute.
“One moment, Y/n, we’re trying” The engineer becomes audible again, and you get that everyone in the garage is trying, but right now it’s not enough.
You’re going at 150 miles an hour down the straight after Turn 4, and you could practically hear your heart beating nervously as you approach Turn 6.
You press on the brake pedal. Nothing. You try to release your hold on the accelerator pedal and clutch on your steering wheel. Nothing.
You go through the options in your head;
Turn and crash purposefully now to slow your car down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the straight isn’t that wide, they could get hurt.
Turn and hit the curb as you pass the corner to slow down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the corner isn’t that wide, they could get hurt. You could get hurt
Your adrenaline is pumping, thoughts are flying through your head at a million miles per second, and you don’t know what to do.
You’re going 150 miles an hour down a straight, but now the corner is coming closer.
“I can’t fucking stop! Alex!” You’re pressing the radio button frantically, hoping someone, anyone responds.
Nothing.
It all goes by in a flash.
Turn 6 comes at you faster than you imagined. Your Alfa Romeo crashes front-wing first into the barriers, the momentum of a 150 mile-per-hour car so strong, not even your harness can stop your body from colliding into your steering wheel.
Everything goes white for a moment, all you could hear is a deafening ringing in your ears, and then the only thing you could feel is pain.
The hurt in your chest is intolerable. You think you’re screaming. There’s smoke or clouds of dust or something else you can’t begin to decipher in the air surrounding you. You could feel the vibrations of the track from the passing cars below you, but you don’t bother to move your head up from where it rests on top of your wheel.
If the ringing wasn’t so loud, you might’ve been able to hear three of your ribs on the right side of your chest break when you first made impact with the wheel. If the pain wasn’t so unbearable, you might’ve been able to notice how because three of your ribs on the right side of your chest are broken, your lungs can barely produce oxygen for you to breathe.
It’s only when you try to gasp for air against the tears running down your face do you notice. The second you try, it sends streaks of pain overflowing throughout your body. Then you realize. You can’t breathe.
You want to stay calm, you really do, but you’re crying so much you could feel them soaking your balaclava, you’re scared to the point that your hands are shaking uncontrollably, there’s still so much adrenaline in you, and you can’t breathe.
You try to radio your team to tell them to send medics or just do something to help, but when you open your mouth to speak, the same thing happens as when you tried to radio for help earlier.
Nothing.
You’re stuck in your crashed car, without a voice, without a breath, and you think this is it.
It feels like hours, but really, it’s only been about a minute since you’ve crashed. Every grand stand is silent, and Martin Brundle and David Croft are speechless. Alex is trying to communicate with you while the other engineers attempt to figure out the the state of your car. Drivers are being led by the safety car under a red flag, anxiously talking to their own engineers to find out if you’re okay. And finally, the safety marshals and medical staff have made their way onto the track and to your car.
The marshals repeatedly shout to you for a sign of responsiveness while the medics move to pull you out of the car. Everyone else is either running in and out of the ambulance that’s just arrived, or helping place a curtain around you for privacy.
The medics transfer you onto a gurney on the ground while the lead medic assess you. She’s pulled off your helmet and balaclava and is left staring at your pale face, alarmed eyes, and gasping mouth.
A few touches to your pulse and lungs confirm her suspicion, and the woman quickly asserts her team. “She has flail chest, she needs an oxygen machine and an IV for pain meds. Her ribs are broken on the right side of her lungs, she’s been barely breathing”
The materials asked for are provided in seconds, and within a few moments, an oxygen mask is placed around your face, and the skin in your left forearm is being pierced with a needle.
For the first time since you started Lap 19, you’ve found both your voice and your breath, the pain striking through your body isn’t as severe anymore, and your nerves have calmed down.
The lead medic hovering over you notices your less-tense state, and lets out her own breath. “You okay kid?” With an oxygen mask, 3 broken ribs, and an IV in your arm, you nod with small smile of relief on your face.
The medics let you stay laying down on the gurney, and transfer you into the waiting ambulance to get you to the nearest hospital. The safety marshals update the Alfa Romeo garage on your state of health, and your damaged car gets moved off the track. Once informed themselves of the situation, Crofty and Martin advise the anxious and waiting fans of your condition and when the race will resume.
The 18 drivers that were restlessly sat in their garages are now visibly relieved and preparing for the race start. The engineers on your side of the garage are pouring over the data from Lap 19 to figure out where it all went wrong, while your trainer leaves to go meet you at the hospital.
While you’re in the hospital, you get hooked up to a new IV and get assessed by a nurse before a doctor comes in to take your X-rays. The results show your 3 broken ribs and the few bruises on your lungs that are set to heal within a week or two.
You’re put on a ventilator to help your breathing after the doctor tells you that you had to stay in the hospital for at least 3 days, and you’d miss the last race of the season as a precaution.
You also undergo surgery hours later to stabilize the broken ribs, and ensure you’re not internally bleeding. Because of all the anesthesia and pain medicine, your either asleep or painless for your first night in the hospital.
The next day is when you’re brought into the real world again, and your trainer tells you everything you missed. He tells you Lando, who you learn was in the room a few doors down when you came in, visited you after your surgery and wished you to get better soon. He tells you about the rest of the race and everything the rest of the drivers have said about you and your crash.
You talk to your team eventually and convince them to let you travel to Abu Dhabi on Saturday to at least watch the race from the garage. You talk to your parents and friends to inform them that your lungs are healing accordingly, that you’re off the ventilator, and have been breathing fine by Thursday.
You’re discharged from the hospital Friday night, and only stop at your hotel to collect your things before catching a flight to Abu Dhabi. You told Logan and Oscar you’d be arriving Sunday morning, which explains why they’re so surprised when you show up in the paddock after Qualifying Saturday night.
“It’s not the best place to start from but-” Logan spots you first, in the middle of a conversation with Oscar. “Oh my god” Is all he mutters before running up to bring you into a hug. You’re smiling, almost laughing at his reaction, until you hear what the American says.
“Don’t do that again. I thought you-” You notice his voice break, and you’re once again aware of what everyone else was feeling while you were breathless inside your car almost a week ago.
“I won’t Logan, I’m okay now” You assure him as best you can before Oscar comes over to both of you. Logan lets go momentarily while the McLaren driver hugs you.
“We were all really scared, y’know. We didn’t know,” He pauses, his voice catches before he’s speaking into your shoulder again. “we didn’t know if you were okay”
“I know Oscar, I’m here though, I’m okay” You know you can’t say much in sympathy to either of the drivers right now, you’ll never exactly know the anxiety and worry they felt on Sunday, but you do tell them about your time in the hospital and how you’re expected to make a full recovery in time for next season.
“I wish you were driving today though, you should be in your car for the last race” Oscar says as the three of you walk through the paddock together.
“I know, I want to drive too, but at the same time, I’m kind of glad I’m not driving until next season. I want to let my lungs rest and everything before I get in my car again” You say with a shrug.
You were being truthful; you weren’t afraid of crashing again, you actually couldn’t wait to drive your Alfa Romeo, but you heard all the possible long term affects of rib and lung damage, and you’d rather miss out on one race than your entire F1 career.
“I’m just glad you’re okay” Logan admits as Oscar nods.
“Yeah, me too”
a short, somewhat emotional f1 fic. 1 down, 3 to go
#reader insert#formula 1#driver reader#f1 grid x reader#formula 1 driver imagines#platonic f1 grid#f1 2023 grid x y/n#f1 imagine#female driver reader#angst#angst with a happy ending#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#platonic oscar piastri#platonic logan sargeant
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i just saw your post about reader who can’t make themselves cum and ugh i love it, especially because i feel like no one ever talks about or includes it. anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on reader who has a hard time cumming, especially during sex no matter how good it feels
I fell that it’s honestly really important to talk about it to let people know that they aren’t alone. And I’m so glad you liked it :)
It is scientifically proven that men can cum easier during sex than women. It’s mostly because women have complex bodies, what works for one person might not work for the other. So when figuring out your own body, it’s important to keep in mind that your body is unique compared to others.
this wasn’t the first time that you’d been sprawled out in bed with Simon pleasing you. He kissed up and down your body, caressed every inch of you, even stopped for a little to rest his head on your chest and make sure you were nice and relaxed. You two had been on this journey together for a little while now, trying to figure out what you like and how he can make his pretty cum. He had tried many things, using his tongue, light pressure on your clit, firmer pressure, no pressure and just stimulating your g-spot, stimulating your g-spot and your clit, adding nipple play to see if that made you more sensitive; but even if it felt good, your body wouldn’t let yourself go.
at first, Simon thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. That he just lost his touch and that he wasn’t doing enough for you. But when you comforted him and explained how you’d been like this since you could remember, it made him feel better and worse. Alright, he wasn’t a complete failure and could still make you cum…but why hasn’t he? Every time you two had sex or just did foreplay, he would make sure to take all the time in the world to get you really nice and wet for him. He would use his fingers to curl inside you and touch that spot to make you mewl and arch your back off the mattress. But you still couldn’t cum. You were in the middle of him thrusting into you, feeling how his cock would twitch gently inside you, his fingers working your clit. Left side, right side, hood of it, right on it, pinching it gently, but all it would do is make you feel more pleasure that lead to nothing but a dead end.
you buried your head into his neck and let out small whimpers as he kept his movements steady. After another 15 minutes, that’s when the whimpers turned into silent sobs. Your body jerked a little as you cried, tears gliding down your cheeks and onto his bare shoulder. His head leaned down against yours and held you tightly, gently sliding your of you to hold you in his lap. You cried softly, neither of you talking, but both knowing what was wrong. “I don’t like being broken…” you said through little cries, voice soft and hoarse. But you were cut off by Simon shaking his head and cupping your face to press small kisses against the apples of your cheeks.
“Yer not broken, love. Y’just different. Just because we don’t know how t’make you cum just yet doesn’t mean my sweet girl is broken.” His words were soft against your ear as he caressed your head, another time failed.
as time passed, you began losing hope. It’s fair, thinking you just can’t do it because something inside is wrong or maybe you just weren’t cut out to be able to feel that pleasure everyone talks about. You started to notice how Simon even began refusing any type of pleasure. Handjob? No thanks, love. Maybe a blowjob cause you had a stressful day? Nope, but I do need cuddles, sweet girl. He was refusing your love. While he sat in his home office finishing some paperwork, you walked in quietly, staring at him as he stared down at the paper, pushing up his glasses. The glasses that you finally got him to buy because he kept complaining about the television being too hard to see and the news on his phone is too small. Thank god you did though, he looked bloody hot in them. Scooting your way into his office, you stood in front of his desk, catching his attention. “Somethin’ ya need, love?”
your cheeks burned as he looked at you, but you couldn’t get distracted! “Why are you refusing my love?”
it was clear the question caught him off guard by the way he paused, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you. “I’m not refusin’ your love. What makes you say that?”
“Wha-…? Yes you are! Every time I offer you a blowjob or a handjob, you say no. Am I doing something wrong? Does it not feel good? Do you…do you not like me anymore?”
he could hear your little heart shatter in that last question, standing up from his chair and walking over to you. He grabs you hands and sits on his desk, pulling you towards him. “I fucking love you. Neve think for a minute that I stopped loving you. I’m refusing to let you do any of tha’ because I don’t think it’s fair to ye. Not fair that my sweet girl has to endure not bein’ able to cum, so m’not gonna either.” He says while looking straight into your eyes, his thick and calloused fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. “Won’t cum until you can.”
while you thought he was refusing your live, he was actually doing it because he didn’t want you to feel left out? This man looked like a scary man, but he was the most thoughtful and caring teddy bear ever. “What if I never do, though?”
“Then neither will I.” He spoke seriously. “Understand?”
the small nod you give him is enough acknowledgement for him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now, I was doin’ some research, and I found that most women can’t reach an orgasm without some help. So, what do ya think ‘bout lookin’ for some toys with me, eh?”
#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#smut imagine#ghost smut#smut headcanons#smut writing#smut fanfiction#plus sized reader#cod x reader#x reader#female reader#simon riley x female reader
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Hey, I've been reading your post for a while now andi absolutely love them. Before I got into OM I was already a big D&D person and love fantesty-romance novels. Although, that's besides the point. I was genuinely scared to ask this until I saw your headcanons, there so wholesome<3
But I was wondering if you could do a brothers + the others react to MC getting there period? I was planning on doing it on my own page but I'm a bit scared to publish my own stuff. Although, thank you if you do.
-H.M
Yeah, sure! As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I love writing all the comfort and fluff prompts. It’s like catnip to me lmao
This is gonna be pretty long, so I’m only gonna do the brothers.
Thanks for requesting!! I hope you like it :)
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MC is on their period
_______
You’ve been living in the House of Lamentation for a while now. You are, at this point, thoroughly and inextricably part of the family.
As a member of their family, your demons have no problem with helping you out. They can’t help but fawn over you a bit, as well—this wasn’t a familiar problem to them before meeting you, as none of them menstruate. Plus, any human condition of yours that highlights vulnerability and pain on your part makes them all get a tad protective.
In any case, they make sure to be helpful!
_______
Lucifer: responsibility -> rest
With your permission, Lucifer notes your cycle on the calendar he keeps on the kitchen wall. Tactfully, of course. It’s just a little red X in the corner of the box that marks the day you start until the day it ends. It ensures no one in the house forgets to be extra nice to you on those days. Plus, it serves as a way to remind you, in case it sneaks up on you.
In the week leading up to it, he checks up on your stock of human world products (and devildom ones too) for it. Painkillers, chocolate, tea, hygiene products, a heating pad, everything. If you’re running low, he will either take you to get more or take care of it himself, depending on how you’re feeling.
If you’re irregular, he takes extra care with tracking your cycle. Having records is important!
He takes you off the chore rotation while you’re bleeding. He wants you to rest. He will not make you expend your energy on chores while you’re in pain.
If you WANT to take some chores though, he understands and will let you, as long as you don’t make yourself suffer unnecessarily. He understands that some people cope worse with stress, illness, and/or pain when their routine is interrupted and they have no task to distract themself with. He would know! He’s one of them! So if you are too, he won’t force you to give up your tasks.
He does very strictly instruct you not to push yourself, however. You are to let him know immediately if you need to stop, so he or one of his brothers can help you out.
If you want somewhere quiet to hide, he’s got you. His study is a great spot for that! He won’t let anyone else in.
His room is another great spot for that, if you want a softer surface and dimmer lighting. You’re allowed to be in there without him if that ends up working out best (and he hopes you understand the level of trust in you he’s displaying by allowing that), but he has no problem with bringing his work out of the study and into his room if you want his company.
If he’s not on a time crunch, he won’t bother bringing any work with him though. Unless he has reason to expect you to feel guilty for taking up his time, in which case he will bring some and finish it in the room with you and then tell you he’s done for the day.
You end up lying on his bed with him, contorted in whatever weird position makes your cramps hurt the least. It’s the middle of the day, but for once Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just lying next to you with his hand splayed over your uterus or lower back, applying light pressure and warmth to help the pain go away. Quietly talking to you about stuff that doesn’t matter.
There’s no concern for productivity. Nor for terrorizing his brothers into order. It seems the key for making Lucifer take a day to just relax is to request his company while you’re in pain.
See, Lucifer’s driving force is how much he loves his family. He will go to ANY lengths to keep them safe and happy. It’s his main priority. You’re part of his family now. You’re the youngest, even… and you’re in pain. So, he’s okay with pushing off the work Diavolo gives him for a day. For you, it’s worth it.
There’s no paperwork in any realm that he would prioritize over comforting you when you’re in pain. He hopes you feel all the love in that sentiment.
You know how huge a declaration that action is, because there is NO other way to get Lucifer to voluntarily lie around in the middle of the day.
_______
Mammon: devotion -> generosity
Mammon was the first one you went to for help during your very first period in the Devildom.
After a short, frantic conversation about what happened to you, why, and how you normally deal with this, he set you up in his room with some towels, a spare set of his own comfortably worn in clothes, and a movie as he rushed out to find some Devildom substitute for the hygiene products you’re used to. Just, SOMETHING to absorb the blood in the meantime before he can get you products from the human world!
He would have gone to the human world immediately, but he’s not allowed and he doesn’t have time to talk Lucifer into letting him up there yet!! You have NOTHING to work with right now, he’s gotta figure something out ASAP!
He didn’t even think about the amount of money he’s willing to spend, or how else he could be using it. He may not have been willing to tell you how much he cares for you at that point, but he has always come through for you when it matters. Even in the early days.
You find yourself contemplating Mammon’s contrasting demeanour while he’s out. This isn’t the first demonstration of his responsible mode that you’ve seen. It’s fascinating, the way he acts so careless and tsundere until someone needs him—at which point he drops that image like it’s nothing, revealing the softhearted and protective big brother he really is.
In those moments, you can see in his personality that he helped raise 5 little brothers (and one Lilith, though you don’t learn about her until later) and is actually pretty damn good at it. It’s clear that he loves you more than he’s willing to admit in those rare moments, when showing it genuinely matters.
Anyway. He came home with an assortment of items for you. No medicine yet because he doesn’t trust that Devildom painkillers won’t harm you, but he brought a BUNCH of snacks, and a collection of things that can be used to absorb the blood for now, until he can get Lucifer to let him go get the stuff you normally use from the human world. You can take your pick.
He even commissioned an enchanter to make you a custom heating pad, because he doesn’t trust the ones meant for demons to not burn your skin. He didn’t think about the price. Frankly, he doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll remember to complain about it to save face later. Maybe.
His main concern—making sure you’re okay—left no room to think of that in that moment. He waves off your concern about bloodstains on the stuff he lent you before he went out. Being reassuring in his usual irreverent way, saying something about how he’s a demon, and demons don’t tend to be squeamish about blood. Hell if he cares, he says.
While you’re in the bathroom washing up and dealing with the bleeding (with a SECOND set of Mammon’s worn-in, comfy clothes that he put in your hands before shoving you into the bathroom, not giving you a second to refuse), Mammon is texting Lucifer to find a way to get you proper period supplies from the human world.
When you come back to him, he tells you that you’ll have what you need before you go to bed, but in the meantime you should sit, because he’s putting on another movie.
He watches you shift around uncomfortably over the next few minutes. Cramps, you know. You’re not exactly comfortable sitting the way you are. Without a word, he pulls you to lie down with your head resting on his leg. He’s looking away from you, indistinctly mumbling something about “so lucky I’m lookin’ after ya” and “what would ya do without the great Mammon” and “MY human, damn it” as he carefully rubs tension out of your back.
“What was that?” You ask him.
“Shut up an’ watch the damn movie!” He splutters.
You stay like that until Lucifer shows up with your requested items. Pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, painkillers, whatever it is you asked for.
Later that night, as Mammon persists in rubbing your back as another movie plays, you find that your trust in him is stronger than it has ever been before. You understand exactly why Mammon is the best demon to be in charge of your well-being. Lucifer chose him for a reason, and it’s impossible to miss. Mammon is so damn caring under the tsundere façade.
You feel so loved. You ARE so loved. The pain fades away under the warmth of his hands. His lap makes a good pillow, and Mammon makes a great guardian.
(Every month after this, he leaves his door open for you in case you want a distraction from the pain. He’s ready with snacks and a movie. He’ll happily do this for you every time.)
_______
Levi: passion -> gentleness
Whatever it is that Levi notices first—be it the blood, the worse mood, the regular time spent with Mammon every month—he freaks out. He’s like “AAAAWTF WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ARE YOU DYING???” Or like “oh noooo are you mad at me why are you randomly sad do you hate me now??” Or like “why can’t you reschedule with Mammon and do this time limited event with me, do you not wanna play with me anymore???”
Either way, bro is suffering.
Eventually, either you or one of his older brothers explains to him, and he feels bad. He didn’t mean to stress you out worse! Also, periods are real?? He thought it was just some creative plot point in the occasional anime! That’s crazy, why are humans built like that??
Anyway. Levi’s nothing if not passionate, and he’s gonna turn some of that passion towards finding ways to make you more comfortable.
He will find a way to order all the human world snacks you crave while you’re bleeding. He will be on the lookout for gifts, like games and merch and manga you’d want. He stockpiles them so he always has something ready to cheer you up when you need that.
He will even do his best to redirect the envy he feels towards Mammon and his established routine of movies and snacks in his room with you lying in his lap and getting free back rubs on the first day of your period each month. He wants that to be him, damn it! But he’s not gonna disrupt that for you.
He WILL claim hanging out with you on your day 2 though, AND will fill in every time if Mammon’s not available. The only thing that can beat out his shyness at the idea of having you using his lap as a pillow is the raging envy at knowing MAMMON gets to have that every month!
(Eventually, once you figure out that Levi wants to be invited so bad, you just invite him. It’s not like you don’t want him there! He’s very happy to sit next to you with your legs in his lap while he ignores Mammon’s stupid movie and plays a game on his phone. It’s nice to have two demon pillows. This one’s got built-in cooling!)
Levi understands not wanting to deal with lights and noise and craziness when you’re in pain. He will prevent any of his brothers from bringing any of that around you with all the determination and passion he brings to everything he cares about.
He is remarkably gentle, for someone who is usually so excitable. So considerate! You can see in the way he forces everyone to only argue over text, in the gentle movement of cool, nimble hands over sore calves and hips and ankles, in the presentation of snacks and gifts determinedly brought to you from the human world, how much he cares about you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
_______
Satan: research -> comfort
The first order of business for nerd boy here is, of course, research. He is gathering information from all his relevant contacts—every human sorcerer and witch he knows, every demon with a pact-bonded menstruating human they care about AND the aforementioned human, every healer, medical researcher, librarian…
Yeah, he’s gonna end up knowing more about it than you do.
He comes back home after a few days, mumbling about human endocrine systems and nutrition and medical malpractice of menstruating patients and the mechanics of blood production and every phase of a menstrual cycle and how pain works on a chemical level. He’s got notebooks and everything. He’s got the whole history of menstruation since the beginning of humanity summarized in one of those notebooks.
… Maybe it’s a bit overkill. But you know how he gets when he’s curious, especially about something that hurts you! He’s gotta know everything!
So now he’s infodumping to you about every symptom you mention. If you’re the sort of person who finds that interesting and helpful, perfect! If you’re not… well, he won’t be offended if you get mad at him for effectively mansplaining your own body to you. Demon-splaining? Whatever, either way he will take that correction with grace and only tell you information you directly ask for. He’s learned enough about menstruation to be very sympathetic and patient while you’re in the middle of it. It seems awful to him, and he’s not about to make it worse!
He’s wise enough to know that he should ask before ACTING on any of that information though. He won’t try to optimize your nutrition or your painkillers or anything unless you ask him to. He knows that would be too far. He’s not prideful enough to override you like that, he’s not Lucifer.
If you get really angry when you bleed, he’s got you! He understands, he encourages you to yell and rant in front of him all you want. Throw around some destructive spellwork or just break stuff if you need to, he’s got a room for that. It’s all good!
Satan is so good with practical comfort. He’s big on venting for your health and sanity. He knows what buttons not to push, they’re obvious to him as wrath incarnate.
Of course, he’ll also give you hugs and drive off his crazy brothers if you need peace. He’ll bring you to the cats when you get sick of people. He’ll find you any answer you need. If your cycle is irregular or in any way atypical, there’s no better demon to have searching for answers for you—and he’d NEVER let no medical malpractice happen to you. Doctors are GOING to take you seriously, damn it!
To him, there’s no such thing as too much hassle to help someone he loves so much as he loves you.
_______
Asmo: luxury -> selflessness
As the Avatar of Lust, there’s no way Asmo doesn’t know the basics of how menstrual cycles work. No way. Even if demons don’t get them, it’s relevant to his whole domain.
Asmo’s got you. He’s gonna spoil the hell out of you. Massages with fancy oils, hot baths with magic muscle relaxant products added, masks to prevent any skin issues from fluctuating hormones, everything he can think of.
If anyone even tries to make you do anything you don’t want to, he will destroy them. This is a time for rest, he insists!
He relishes any opportunity to relax with you, have a self-care day, just chill and recharge together… but he’s prioritizing you. You get to see the rare responsible Asmo during this time! If you have non-negotiable responsibilities, he’s helping you. He wants you to get done faster!
He’s actually got a pretty great strategic mind when he’s incentivized to use it! He’s so efficient! Only because he wants you to be in his room relaxing as fast as possible, but it’s totally there!
At the end of it all, it’s completely possible that he forgets about spoiling himself too, just because he got so focused on trying to take as much of your pain away as possible. It’s wild that he doesn’t think he has any capacity for selflessness. Good thing you know better.
_______
Beel: perceptiveness -> caring
Beel smells the blood. Immediately. At first he’s concerned but minds his own business, trusting that Mammon’s taking care of you. But after you’ve pacted with him? Not anymore.
Beel becomes your warning system. He will notify you as soon as the hormonal shift starts to happen. Days before you even start bleeding.
You know it’s because he cares, and that he can’t avoid noticing the change in your scent whether he wants to or not. You choose not to think it’s weird.
He gets worried once he learns about what happens to you every month. His first priority is making sure he doesn’t eat everything that’s high in iron, folic acid, vitamin C and D, and omega-3s. All very good for you when you’re on your period. He makes sure that stuff remains available to you.
He invites you to exercise with him too, because he heard that can be helpful. He won’t STOP you from lifting if that’s what you want to do, but HE is choosing to focus on stretching and moderate cardio for now (stuff that should be more helpful for you) and if you want to join him, well… that’s what he’s doing. What do you mean he changed it on purpose? He just felt like yoga and a nice jog today! Don’t think about it too hard!
Beel is actually the best one to go to for massages. Sure, Asmo knows what feels good and he’s phenomenal at that. True. But Beel is the one who understands every muscle and tendon in a body, so if you want a full, functional reset, in which all the tension and soreness in you gets methodically, optimally pressed out, you go to Beel. It might not feel quite as nice—in fact it might hurt a fair bit—but it’ll be so effective. You will have no pain at all after. Plus, he’ll teach you stretches to prevent some of that tension coming back later, too. He’s so helpful.
_______
Belphie: laziness -> service
We all know Belphie is the number one advocate for rest. He will encourage you to sleep through as much of it as possible. Why would you want to be awake to experience pain? Screw that. He will actively keep you asleep as long as possible—unless you tell him in advance that there has to be limits so you don’t bleed on everything you’re touching. Even so, he doesn’t quite see the problem. He’s a demon, he’s not squeamish about blood. What biohazard?
But no, he’ll respect that. If he’s a lil shit about it, all you have to do is pull the “remember that time you killed me” card and he’ll do whatever you want lol
In the biggest twist of irony since The Incident, Belphie actually finds himself serving as your alarm clock. It has to be him, you see, because he insists on sleeping next to you. He wants to be there to ensure you sleep through the night, and don’t ever get woken up by cramps. So it’s gotta be him to wake you up when it’s absolutely necessary. Because you see, he does not trust anyone else to understand what’s absolutely necessary. Only someone who loves sleep as much as him gets it, he insists.
Belphie is nothing if not lazy. Obviously. But… he’s actually voluntarily doing work on your behalf?? He’s concealing bloodstains on your sheets from you so you don’t feel uncomfortable, and washing them for you. He isn’t even telling you about that, so he isn’t even getting any thanks for it! How very kind and un-demonic of him!
(Of course, he’s mostly doing it because he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed and stop sleeping next to him while you’re on your period. He’s got selfish reasons. But… really, it’s not very selfish at all when you look at how that benefits you too. How could he be so surprised to hear that you think he can be kind and sweet when he wants to be? How’s he not seeing it??)
He may deny that he’s actually a sweetie, but you know the truth. When sloth incarnate is voluntarily doing secret chores for you, you KNOW he loves you. It might as well be spilling out of his soul, it’s so undeniable.
_______
You’re bleeding. It’s miserable. No one likes their period. It’s made much more bearable for you, however, now that you have this ridiculous family falling over themselves to make your life easier. All the pain, all the hormonal fuckery, all the bullshit your body puts you through is… well, actually quite tolerable when you’re loved this much.
#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#obey me found family#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#obey me platonic headcanons#obey me x reader#obey me & reader#obey me hurt/comfort#obey me fluff#obey me brothers#obey me lucifer#mammon obey me#obey me leviathan#levi obey me#satan obey me#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me fanfic
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be with you || j.pt
Jason wakes up in the middle of the night and you're not there.
🌙 Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (gn)
🌙 Genres/AUs: Fluff, (emotional) hurt/comfort, established relationship
🌙 Warning(s): mention of kidnapping
🌙 Word Count: 1.1k
🌙 Author's Note: I have so many Jason Todd fic ideas 😵💫 For now, I decided to just write this. I normally don't post such short fics, but I want to get used to doing so. Sometimes I just wanna write without thinking of intensive plots 😪 That being said, please enjoy this little fluff piece! Sometimes, we just need some fluff in our lives. Also, this is my first Jason fic after a few years so… 😬 (im a lil nervous)
masterlist
When Jason turns to his other side to pull you against him, his eyes fly open.
Your side of the bed is empty.
And cold.
Which means it’s been a while since you left.
You left.
Did you leave or did someone take you?
Jason’s distressed eyes scan the bedroom. There’s no sign of a struggle. Plus, he would at least hope he’d wake up to the commotion if something like that happened.
But if you didn’t get kidnapped, where did you go?
Worry fills his chest and his heart pumps faster at the influx of questions in his head.
All the doubt about whether he’s making you happy clouds his mind. Had he said something yesterday that had upset you? Are you not happy with him anymore? Did someone better come into your life?
Jason groans and rakes his hands through his hair, tugging roughly at the ends to feel something other than uneasiness.
His hands fall to his sides when he sees your belongings at your vanity.
That’s a good sign, right? Maybe you didn’t leave him after all.
Jason slides off the bed and heads out of the bedroom.
“Babe?” he calls.
There’s no answer.
He wanders to the bathroom. Empty.
He goes to the living room. Empty.
Finally, he goes to your home office.
You’re sat in your chair with your headset on, fingers clacking against the keyboard.
The heavyweight he had put on his shoulders instantly lifted. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
He takes three large steps before he encloses his arms around you from behind.
You yelp, jumping and hitting your head against his jaw.
He grunts at having bit the inside of his cheek in the process.
Although your arms are glued to your sides, you tilt your head and lift a hand as high as it can go to remove your headset.
“Jay?” you question. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”
He shakes his head and nuzzles his face against your neck more.
You lax in his arms, rubbing along his forearms and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Why are you awake then?” you wonder after a while.
“You weren’t in bed,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I forgot I had to finish something for work.”
“But it’s half past three. Can’t it wait?”
“Sadly, no,” you sigh.
Carefully, you try to pull apart his arms to free yourself. Jason refuses to let you do so.
“Baby,” you laugh softly when he holds you tighter. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be done in a bit.”
“No,” he grumbles.
Knowing he won’t give up, at least not easily, you nod. “Alright then. Should I bring in another chair for you?”
Jason shakes his head and finally lets go. He slides your chair back slightly and sinks to the floor in front of you.
Your legs part when he makes a home between them, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his head on top of your thigh.
“Comfy?” you ask with a small smile, slightly amused.
He simply hums and closes his eyes.
Your gaze lingers on him before you focus on your work once more. You hurry more now, wanting to get back to bed with Jason.
A few minutes have passed when Jason speaks again.
“I-I thought you left me,” he whispers.
Your hands pause in their movement.
“Oh Jace,” you begin gently and place a hand against his cheek.
His eyes flutter open at your touch. His blue eyes are filled with worry and fear.
“I would never leave you.”
His eyes move between yours, trying to find a reason not to believe you. There’s that rotten side of him that tells him he doesn’t deserve to have company. That it’s inevitable for him to be alone.
“Unless you want me to,” you add.
He shakes his head aggressively. “Don’t say that.”
You smile softly at him. “Then it’s a done deal. You’re mine until the end of time.”
Jason cracks a small smile at your words, lifting his head.
“I like the sound of that,” he says.
Your grin grows. “I do too.”
Jason leans up, and you meet him halfway for a tender kiss.
“I’ve still got more to do. You want to go to bed now?” you ask once you pull away.
“Nope, I’m staying,” he replies, resting his head back on your leg.
His tone sounds lighter now, making your heart warm. Although you love all sides of Jason, this may be your favorite one.
Happy. Soft. Vulnerable.
After forty more minutes, you finally finish.
Jason has fallen asleep and has filled the room with his light snores. Some of his hair lays on his face, some of it slightly ruffled from sleeping in the bed earlier.
Cute.
You bring a hand to his hair, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You scratch at his scalp gently to wake him.
His eyes open, drooping and groggily.
“I’m done, let’s go to bed now,” you say.
He nods and slowly stands up from the floor. He sways a little on tired legs.
“Come on, sleepy head,” you tease lightly and grab his hand.
He lets you guide him back to the bedroom. You sit him down on the edge then gesture in the direction of the bathroom.
“I need to pee; you gonna come with me or will you stay here?” you question.
Jason frowns but nods. “If you take longer than five minutes, I’m coming in.”
You laugh and kiss the crown of his head. “If you say so.”
You know he’s being honest so you rush. Luckily, you make it in time for him not to come get you.
Jason hasn’t moved from when you left. He’s staring at the doorway, feet thumping rhythmically against the floor.
“You’re so needy tonight,” you observe and climb into bed. Jason scoots back until he’s beside you.
“I just miss you,” he sighs, pulling you against him like he originally wanted to do.
You lean back against his chest to feel him more.
“I’ve missed you too, Jay,” you reply.
There's been a rise in crime lately, which resulted in Jason being out in the field more than usual. However, it feels as if there’s a break and you and Jason are making the most of it. You’re sure he will be summoned again soon.
Jason snuggles your body more—if possible—and kisses the back of your head.
“We’re so sleeping in today,” he mumbles, a slight groan accompanying his words.
You giggle. “I can’t protest that.”
“Hm, good,” he says. “Goodnight, baby.”
Smiling, you echo, “Goodnight, Jay.”
©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY
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#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fluff#jason todd hurt/comfort#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you
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the name of the game
pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader
wc… 2.3k
summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?
warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional
josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt
otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️
Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely.
He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged.
His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.
He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.
Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town.
Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment).
Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.
But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine.
The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.
Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.
But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.
It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him.
The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?
How could he never notice you.
Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.
The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.
Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.
Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.
As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?
Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.
The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy.
Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.
“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.
“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.
Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends.
“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.
This got you to turn back around again.
Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever.
One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer.
“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.”
Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?
You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.
Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.
In Cape, everyone was a regular.
It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.
When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.
He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.
You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.
That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.
He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.
And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.
As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.
“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip.
“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”
Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.
You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.
“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes.
Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?
He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back.
“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.
“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?
You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more.
“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.
“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.
But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.
Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming.
You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade.
Were you opposed? Not entirely.
“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.
“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips.
You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.
Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.
“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.
How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.
When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face.
Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.
Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose.
Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road.
When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk.
He liked how your game was turning out.
traumatrios, 2024
divider by @saradika-graphics !
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hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3
Thank you for requesting sweetheart!
cw: signs of anxiety
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page.
Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise.
Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised.
“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist.
“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?”
“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?”
You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.”
“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.”
By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him.
“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?”
“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.”
Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?”
You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.”
“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently.
“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.”
James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?”
“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.”
Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks.
James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.”
“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.”
A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.”
Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says.
You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.”
Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head.
“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?”
Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—”
“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.”
You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent.
You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows.
“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice.
Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.”
Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?”
You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.”
“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.”
“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.”
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?”
You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.”
“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”
You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.”
“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”
“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.”
“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you admit.
There’s a brief pause.
“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#marauders era#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Austin butler x reader
Reader and Austin are married and Austin does his first interview as a married man and tell them about how he met the reader and there love story plus maybe to add to the cuteness he announces that he is also gonna be a father
A Lot of Changes
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You were sitting front row in the audience, waiting for Austin, your husband, you walk onstage. He was currently in the middle of the press tour for Masters of the Air but this was his first interview since your wedding and you knew that he was going to be asked about it. You looked down at your hand, smiling when you saw the dainty gold band that was now sitting on your ring finger before being jolted out of your thoughts when you heard the rest of the audience applause as Austin walked on stage.
He’d spoken about Masters of the Air for about fifteen minutes before the interviewer changed the topic. ‘So, we’ve seen on your lovely girlfriend, no, your lovely wifes Instagram a couple of wedding photos,’ he said, causing Austin to smile softly, looking down at his ring before lifting his head, his eyes finding yours instantly and his smile growing. ‘How was it?’
‘One of the happiest days of my life,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’d been ready to propose pretty much a week after we started dating so it’s been a long time coming but it was so worth it. We got married in this big stately home and she looked so beautiful,’ he said, his voice trailing off as he found you once again in the audience.
‘You were ready to propose after a week? And how long had you been dating before the wedding?’
‘So, we met when filming began again for Elvis after lockdown and she was wandering around the set, offering to get coffees for everyone. I’d noticed that she started doing that pretty much every day so one morning when I heard that she was making her rounds, I decided to go and get her a coffee and surprise her. The only downside is I now have to get her coffee every morning,’ he joked, making everyone else in the studio laugh.
‘And how did you propose?’
‘Well, I wanted to make this big deal of it, I had a plan where I’d booked a couple of days off work and I was going to take her out on a date, you know, really try to woo her. And then because we were in Australia, we were going to spend a couple of days in Sydney and on the last evening I was going to take her to a show at the Opera House, she’s always wanted to go and I was going to propose after the show, by the water. It didn’t really turn out like that, I jumped the gun a bit and our trip to Sydney ended up being a bit of an engagement-moon kind of thing,’ Austin explained, laughing softly. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night, about a year and a half ago now.
You were waiting in Austin’s trailer for him to finish filming, curled up on the sofa with a film playing softly on the TV. You’d spent the day packing a couple of bags for you and Austin after he’d surprised you this morning by telling you that he was taking you to Sydney for a long weekend. The sound of the door opening made your head turn in the direction of the sound and you smiled tiredly as you watched Austin walk in.
‘How was filming?’ you asked softly when he came and sat down on the sofa next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing heavily.
‘Long,’ he replied, the end of the word being cut off slightly by a yawn and you moved your arms to wrap around him, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly. ‘That feels amazing,’ he murmured, his eyes closing as he let his weight lean onto yours more.
‘Well, you don’t have to go back onto that set for the next few days. We’re going on holiday and I don’t want you even thinking about work for the whole time we’re away, you hear me?’ you asked, tilting his head to face you. As soon as his eyes were on yours, his body relaxed and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before groaning against your lips.
‘I still need to pack, I was going to on my break earlier but I completely forgot. I won’t be long and then we can go.’
‘I’ve packed your bags for you, they’re on the bed with mine so we’re good to go whenever you’re ready. I didn’t know what kind of things you wanted to take so I’ve packed some hoodies as well that you might - ’
‘Marry me.’
His words cut you off straight away and you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, to look at him. ‘What did you just say?’ you asked as Austin moved to sit more upright on the sofa, hooking your legs over his arms and pulling them across his lap, trying to pull you closer to him. He leaned in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you.
‘Marry me,’ he repeated softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. ‘I had this big plan where I was going to take you to the Opera House and propose while we were away but I couldn’t wait.’
‘But I’m in ratty sweatpants, one of your hoodies, this isn’t the time to propose to someone! I mean, I look - ’
‘Perfect. You look perfect ,’ he said, grinning at you now as he tugged you even closer, until your nose was brushing against his. ‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’
‘Will we still get to go to the Opera House?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, laughing.
‘Then yes!’ you exclaimed, pulling him in for a kiss.
When Austin had finished recounting the story of his proposal, the studio erupted in applause and you couldn’t stop the blush from rising in your cheeks. ‘And how has married life been treating you?’ the host asked, grinning at Austin.
‘Incredible, we had our honeymoon in Spain and since being back, everything’s just felt so right and amazing and there’s a lot of changes going on at the minute so it’s terrifying but so exciting at the same time.’
‘What kind of changes are you making?’
‘Well, uh,’ Austin chuckled nervously, his hand running along his thigh as he adjusted his seat and looked over at you, looking for permission. Smiling back at him, you nodded gently. Austin grinned back at you before turning back to the host. ‘We’ve been changing one of the guest rooms in the house into a nursery. About three months ago, we found out that we’re going to be parents.’
The applause that followed was deafening and you and Austin couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, neither of you knowing what you were expecting. Once the applause had died down, the host wrapped up his interview with Austin. Austin thanked him and stood. Instead of heading off of the set, he made his way over to you, sitting on the floor in front of you and grabbing your wrists, draping your arms around his neck.
‘You were amazing up there,’ you murmured into his ear, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head as his fingers absentmindedly began to play with yours.
‘Thank you, baby,’ he replied, craning his neck around to look at you, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘How are you guys doing?’
‘We’re just fine,’ you said, smiling warmly at him, ‘the amount of interviews you’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, they’re going to know just how big their daddy is before they’re even born.’
Austin tilted his head backwards until your face was upside down in his eyes. ‘I love you. Both of you.’
You leaned down to quickly peck his lips before moving your hands to cup either side of his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks. ‘We love you too. Now, be quiet, we’re trying to listen to the rest of the show.’
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I Called
Summary: When (Y/n) goes out to do a business check on a Self Storage building, she ends up getting attacked. Due to a technical difficulty the radio of (Y/n) remains on, so everyone including her boyfriend and brother can hear what is happening.
Request by: @shauna-carsley
9-1-1 masterlist
Taglist: I was thinking of starting a taglist, so if you want to be tagged leave a comment or tell me in “Ask me a question”!
______
(Y/n) clicked her flashlight on as she pointed it towards the entrance of the self storage units. She stepped onto the concrete stairs and let her eyes investigate the garage door, which was still wide open in the middle of the night. Her eye fell on the door, which was held open by a small piece of wood, just enough to keep the door in its place. She slowly made her way off the concrete stairs, and approached the open door.
“Dispatch 442-L23 at Studio Self Storage, doing a business check” (Y/n) spoke over the radio. She grabbed her pistol out of her holster and let her right wrist rest on her left wrist so she would still be able to use her flashlight and gun at the same time. “Copy 442-L23” The voice of the dispatcher sounded through the radio, which was clipped to her uniform.
She took a deep breath, her stomach was filling itself with anxiety. Something that always happened when she would walk into a creepy building, without lights or backup. But that was something that gave her a kick, being a cop kinda felt like being on drugs. Yes, it could be intense, but whenever you let go of your feelings and dive right into the action it’d give her such a rush.
With her right foot, she kicked the metal door open and shone her flashlight together with the gun into the dark hallway of the storage unit building. Thanks to her flashlight, it revealed a staircase, the door she just walked through was probably an emergency exit, which was connected to the fire staircase.
(Y/n) shone her light towards the left, which revealed another door, with a small emergency light on. She stepped onto the metal staircase and made herself go through the door frame.
The small hallway she slowly walked through revealed a deep dark hall with countless small garage doors on the side.
Slowly but determined (Y/n) continued her steps into the storage unit building. As she turns to the right, footsteps of someone running are sounding through the space she’s in. There’s another hallway full with more storage units, but no one to be seen.
For one quick moment, she closes her eyes, trying to calm herself down. She can hear her own heart beating in her chest of adrenaline, the pounding sounds of her heart are racing through her eardrums. “You can do this.” she tries to encourage herself, inside her head so she wouldn’t give away her position.
Focussed on every step and breath she takes, she quietly walks further and further into the property. Checking every inch of the building, looking for any differences. The walls were full with small garage doors with locks.
When she entered another hallway, she pointed her flashlight to the right, as an unfamiliarity popped up into the sequence. There wasn’t a storage unit. She aimed the flashlight along with her gun at the unfamiliarity. There was some kind of little living area. There was a bed, a bike, a sleeping bag, and a construction lamp which was switched on.
Someone was living there. Maybe even hiding. (Y/n) was pretty sure it had to be connected to her case, as well as the running footsteps she heard about a minute ago.
Now it was time to call for backup.
(Y/n) locked her flashlight under her right armpit so she could radio dispatch. “Dispatch 442-L23, I’m gonna need backup and detectives dispatched to Studio Self Storage. I have a possible-” She couldn’t even finish her sentence or she felt a pair of hands pushing her into one wall she was standing next to. A loud groan fell from her lips as her body connected with the storage unit door.
She tries to push the person away with her strength but she gets pushed back into the door.
“442-L23, do you copy?”
The person behind her grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled it so her head was now looking up. A high pitched yelp leaves her mouth, and she receives a fist to the right side of her face. With a force her head was pulled back and pushed into the concrete wall.
“442-L23, please respond.”
Another scream came through the radio as her face hit the wall.
“Officer needs help. 442-L23 at Studio Self Storage”
(Y/n) gathers all her strength and pushes her body as hard as she can into the attacker’s body. The attacker stumbled back into the other wall behind him. She yanks her left elbow with a force, multiple times into the side of his body. But he roughly grabs her shoulder, pushes her to the side and pins her into the wall.
“All units, police and fire RA, clear channel two”
Evan closed the hatch of the truck as he put back the halligan and walked towards his team who were standing at the ambulance, putting the gurney into the back of it. “Switch to Tac channel 50. Officer on open mic in distress.” The voice of Maddie broke through the radio. “Needs assistance. 442-L23 at Studio Self Storage”
Evan just came to a stop, as he felt the back of Eddie’s hand harshly tapping against his chest. Evan’s eyes connected with his as he realized what his sister had just said through the radio. “Buck. Isn’t that…-” Eddie starts, “(Y/n)” Evan finishes his brother-in-law's sentence. Evan’s eyes grew wide, his stomach turned and his veins filled themselves with adrenaline.
“Take him to the hospital and everyone else, on the engine, now, let’s go! ” Bobby spoke over the scene. Before Bobby could even finish his order, Evan sprinted towards the engine, hopped in and threw one of the headphones onto his head. The rest of his team quickly jumped in too and they drove away with squealing tires.
Evan tries his best to remain calm, his foot starts tapping towards the metal floor of the fire engine. His elbows lean onto his thighs as he lets his head hang between his thighs and his fingers intertwine on the back of his head. Evan can feel his heart racing, like it was almost trying to break free from his chest. He was suffering in silence.
Meanwhile Eddie looked out of the window, watching buildings, houses and cars go by in a flash. The sound of his sister getting tortured was awful, it’s something you wouldn’t wish for your worst enemy to hear. Now and then Eddie would glance at Evan, seeing if he was doing okay, it was his best friend after all. Another yelp fell from his sister’s mouth through the headphones.
“Cap, they're telling us to switch to tac 50.” Chimney reminds Bobby. When Bobby reached out his hand, ready to switch the channel. Eddie’s voice sounded over the headphones. “No. Leave it on” Eddie takes a look at Evan who was still deadly focussed on the sound through the radio. Bobby looked over his shoulder as he shared looks between Evan and Eddie but nodded at his request.
Evan was torturing himself by listening to every single sound that came through his headset, but he had to listen to it. To let himself know that he’d be there any minute, any second to help her. He had to listen, so he wouldn’t get the feeling he’d leave her alone. He was with her, even if it was through the radio and she couldn’t hear a thing and was fighting for her life.
Evan knew (Y/n) was stubborn. She knew Evan was worried whenever she was on shift. He knew she was so stubborn, that she would sometimes not call for backup. She had pulled these kinds of stunts multiple times. They’ve had arguments over not calling for backup. But she would just say “But I'm okay! I’m here!” It was just a matter of time when it would go wrong. And today was the day he had feared the most.
**
“It’s insane! You’re insane! You know you needed to call for backup and you ignored it.” Evan paced through the room. “Yeah but, I’m still here! Alive and well!” (Y/n) said as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “That’s not the point. The point is, what if you got shot? Nobody would’ve known.”
**
Scenes from arguments that happened weeks ago, flashed through his mind. With every scream, every groan, every punch and push he heard, Evan closed his eyes even tighter.
Once again, the person grabs her hair and launches her into the concrete. (Y/n)’s body bounced against the concrete, she could taste the blood dripping from her lip. She tries to turn her body around so she could face the attacker and use her gun. But he pins her against the wall, as well as her right arm which she was holding her gun in. He punches her wrist against the concrete, due to the shocking pain of her wrist connecting with the concrete she lets go of her gun. Dropping it to the ground.
He grabs her arm and snaps it backwards. An ear deafening scream sounds through the building as she literally hears the bone snap. She feels how the bottom of the attacker’s shoe connected with the back of her knee as he kicked it. She lost balance on her right leg, so she tumbled to the ground and a loud cry fell from her lips.
Her body gets forced onto the ground by the power of his hands. (Y/n) falls face down onto the floor. In panic she starts touching the floor, looking for her gun with her only available hand that was working.
She could feel the man’s body standing over her, ready to throw another punch. But as soon as her hand found her gun, she turned around and pulled the trigger twice, not really thinking where she was aiming at.
A scream sounded through the storage unit halls. One bullet went into the guy’s leg and the other one went beside his ear. The attacker lost balance, fell down onto his left knee which was injured now and screamed from the top of his lungs. (Y/n) pushed herself up with her non injured hand as she put her gun back into her holster. (Y/n) wanted to stand up to her legs, but then she realized her right leg wasn’t doing what she wanted, it was twitching. So she had to crawl her way to the man’s body.
The man was so busy with his hearing and his gunshot wound to the leg, that he didn’t notice (Y/n) crawling to him. She pushed the man in his back with a force so he was now with his stomach to the ground. (Y/n) grabbed one of his hands and cuffed him to the closest pipeline she could find. He wasn’t going to get away with this. She chose to cuff him to the pipeline with one hand, because she didn’t have the power to hold him down on her own. Her right arm was broken and she dislocated her right knee.
Her world was spinning, all those hits to her head made her head feel fuzzy. As she cuffed him to the pipeline, (Y/n) tries to crawl as far away from him as she could. But after ten or twelve pushes towards the exit, she couldn’t find any more energy. She stopped crawling, and turned onto her back so she was facing the ceiling now. Trying to catch a proper breath, her vision started to reveal black and white spots. Her eyelids became heavier by the second, but she had to hold on. She had to stay awake, but it was difficult with the swellings that were appearing on her face.
It felt like they were on their way for hours, maybe even days before the truck finally pulled to a stop. The street was filled with police cars and blue and red lights colored the building walls. Evan threw off his headphones and jumped out of the door.
“Sir the building is not clear” he can hear an officer calling after him when he sprinted into the building. He had to know if she was okay, he knew his team would get the right tools and equipment with them when they would go inside.
With the flashlight attached to his chest on his jacket, he ran through every dark hallway, until he saw a crowded hallway filled with officers. That was it.
He didn’t run this time, he basically speed walked into the room. Evan’s eyes fell on the man who was cuffed to the pipeline, his eyes squinted at the bright light Evan’s chest was carrying. But the cops weren’t surrounding the man, they were surrounding someone else.
Evan could hear multiple footsteps entering the hall he was standing in. “Captain Nash, she’s here” one of the officers sounded when his eyes fell on the captain of the 118. The officers made room for the team to assess their colleague.
“Oh my god” Evan mumbled to himself as his eyes locked on his girlfriend’s body, lying down on the ground, completely beaten up. Evan dropped down to his knees, next to (Y/n) as he put his arms underneath her shoulder blades. He carefully removed some strands of hair from her face, which were sticking to the wounds. “(Y/n) Can you hear me?” his voice sounded broken.
“Can you hear me?” he repeated one more time, trying to get (Y/n) to open her eyes. Weakly, her eyelids parted, but the black eye she got made it difficult for her. “Buck?” she whispered. “Yeah baby I’m here! I’m here!” he panted, his heart was still racing so hard, it almost felt like he was having a heart attack.
A tear left both her eyes. “I.. I called. I c-called for b-backup.” She cried. “I know,” Evan said, as he bit his lip, trying to stay strong. “You did so good” he continued, and reeled her into his chest.
She cries as she lets her left hand slip onto his back, trying to get him even closer than he already was. It almost felt like she wanted to merge into him. Evan could feel the way she cried into his skin, the tears that dripped onto his navy blue shirt. The quiet huffs she let out, almost sounded like she was hyperventilating, the breaths were ticking his skin.
“You’re okay. You’re safe now” he breathed into her hair as he pressed a kiss onto the back of her head.
A hand fell onto Evan’s shoulder. “Buck, we need to check her.” Eddie’s voice spoke as he tightly squeezed his shoulder, an attempt to comfort him. Evan pulled back from the embrace and slowly helped her body get back on the ground again. He wasn’t going to leave her, so he moved from the side of (Y/n) to take place above her head, trying to keep her awake.
“I need the backboard and the gurney in here, cap” Hen tells Bobby. Bobby nods at her request and taps Chimney on the shoulder, as a sign to help him and get it.
Eddie knew the rules of standing back when you’re too personally involved in this. But he wanted to work on his sister. Especially after this incident, he had to let her know he would be there for her. Bobby knew telling him he couldn’t treat his sister wouldn’t stop him. He would do it anyway.
Eddie and Hen took place each on one side of (Y/n)’s body. Eddie carefully placed his gloved hand onto her cheek as he checked her pupils with the little light he got from the medic bag. “Pupils are equal and reactive” her brother spoke as he switched the light off and put it back into the bag.
Evan was holding both his hands beside (Y/n)’s head, as he felt a hand searching the back of his hand. (Y/n)’s left hand was searching his hand. Evan took her hand into his hands and pressed a kiss onto her skin.
Evan noticed the way she squeezed her eyes closed, she was in pain. “Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?” Evan asked as he let his eyes scan her body. “M-My leg.. my l-leg!” She whined. “(Y/n) I know it hurts, but you have to stay still okay?” Eddie tried to calm down his sister, as she started kicking with her left leg, while her right leg stayed perfectly still. Eddie grabbed a scissor out of the bag, Eddie’s eyes connected with Hen’s as if he was silently asking her if she was seeing this too. Hen nodded as he pointed at the right leg.
Eddie cut through the fabric until his eyes recognized a swelling around her knee, some bruising and her kneecap was visually out of its place. “A dislocated right knee” Eddie said as he looked at Hen. “(Y/n), your knee has been dislocated. The best thing to do for us is to splint it and get you to the hospi-” Hen didn’t even get the chance to give her advice as she yelled: “Pop it back in!”
“Are you sure?” Hen asked to double check her choice. She nodded with her eyes closed, still facing the ceiling of the building. “Do it.” Evan spoke as he squeezed her hand, and placed his other free hand onto her cheek.
“I’m sorry sis, this is gonna hurt. A lot.” Eddie says as he gets ready to grab her lower leg. Eddie closed his eyes for a second, to mentally prepare to hear his sister's ear deafening scream in real life. As if she hasn’t screamed enough today.
Carefully Eddie extended her leg, (Y/n) bit down on the inside of her cheeks trying not to scream, but the stinging pain in her leg was too painful. Her scream went through marrow and bone, it sounded like she was being tortured. She squeezed Evan’s hand so hard it turned blank. A pop sounded through the air as the knee popped back into its place.
She sobbed as she felt the shocking pain through her leg. Evan was trying to comfort her as her eyes kept streaming over her face. “You did so good..” he wiped one of her many tears away as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Right arm is most definitely broken, right closed fracture.” Eddie says when he took a closer look at her right arm. “Alright. Starting fluids” Hen’s voice spoke as she got an IV needle from the bag and searched for a vein on her left arm which Evan was holding, to put the needle in.
“Splinting the arm” Eddie grabbed a sam splint from the bag, and started to secure the splint to her arm. “Stay with us sis, we got you.” Eddie spoke as he could see her eyelids blink faster and faster, as she was going to pass out. Evan’s eyes shot at hers as he heard Eddie finish his sentence.
“We need to move her!” Eddie called out, as he could see Bobby and Chimney entering the hallway again with the gurney and a backboard.
“Hey hey! (Y/n) stay with me!” Evan said as he saw her beginning to fade away. “So..tired..” she mumbled, out of breath. “No, no, no! You have to stay awake, baby.” Evan spoke as he placed both of his hands on her cheeks, carefully so he wouldn’t hurt her.
Evan’s eyes scanned her body, there was nothing else visible. Without thinking, his hands went to her shirt. He pressed both hands onto one side and yanked her shirt open, she was now in only her bra, with her shirt to the sides. Eddie’s eyes shot at Evan’s spontaneous action.
Eddie’s eyes immediately saw a bruising underneath her chest. “She’s bleeding internally, it’s probably her spleen.” Eddie concluded, “Get that backboard over here! We need to move her!” Eddie called out. Chimney put the backboard down on the ground and with the four of them they slid (Y/n) onto the backboard and onto the gurney.
When they wheeled the gurney to the exit of the building, Evan constantly held her hand. He wasn’t letting her go, and she wasn’t planning on letting him go. He could see her eyes open and close from time to time.
They loaded the gurney into the ambulance, and without any hesitation Eddie and Buck both got in the back. The back doors closed and with two pats on the backdoor the ambulance started moving.
“Buck..” she mumbled, “I’m right here baby” Evan spoke as he squeezed her hand, to let her know he was there. “I’m sorry” she said with her eyes closed, but she weakly opened them. “Don’t be, this wasn’t your fault.” Evan pressed her hand to his lips once more, and she gave him a weak smile.
______
“(Y/n) I asked you a question.. are you still having nightmares?” doctor Frank asked (Y/n) as she was facing him. Her crutch she had, was leaning against the side of the couch she was sitting on. “No” she answered. Her knee was in a brace, it still hurt when she walked and she had the crutch to help her.
“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell you’re lying” Frank said straight to the point. “Well, you see a little off today.. Did something happen recently?” She shook her head at the question of her therapist. “You’ve gone through a traumatizing event. It’s normal to have nightmares after that. So tell me about your most recent nightmare.”
She sighed. Why was she even talking to him right now? She just wanted to go back to work, but she knew she couldn’t. Not when her leg was torturing her like this. “I didn’t have a nightmare.” she held onto it.
Frank sighed, and grabbed the pen of his notebook to take some notes. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at Frank. “Okay. Yes, I did have a nightmare.” she sighed.
She started tapping her left leg against the floor. “What happened in the nightmare?” Frank asked further. “It’s.. the same thing. Over. and over again..The same scene, same attacker, same actions.” She spoke, her voice breaking some more whenever there came another word out of her mouth.
“And how does that make you feel?” Frank asks. “I.. I keep feeling like I can’t breathe. Like, I’m being pushed underwater. Suffocating.” She roughly wipes her tears with her left hand off her face.
“You know, I’ve made up hundreds of different kinds of scenarios in my head, what if my microphone wasn’t on, what if I never called for help, things like that.” (Y/n) admits. “And you never dream of those scenarios?”
She shook her head. “No.. Some days, I don’t even sleep, because I’m scared to fall asleep. Because I know what kind of dream I will have.”
“Even when Evan is next to you, you’ll still have the same dream?” Frank asks. (Y/n) nods. “It’s crazy, I don’t talk in my sleep. But after.. this.. I sometimes wake up screaming, and I terrify Evan.” she sobs. “He tells me it’s okay, it’s normal after what I’ve been through.” her voice continues.
In the back of her mind, she can hear her own scream, the way the attacker grabbed her and pushed her into the wall, the way he broke her arm. Everything is coming back to her now.
“But I’m sick and tired of scaring him to death, him telling me it’s okay to have those nightmares.” Tears are falling down her face, her sobs are uncontrollable and she could feel herself starting to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry.” she says as she stands up, puts her arm down into the holding area of the crutch and leaves the room.
She rushes out of the room, yanking open the door to the waiting area where her boyfriend was waiting for her to finish her appointment. She wasn’t able to drive herself, so Evan offered to drive her to her appointment.
Evan was scrolling down his phone as the door was opened and his girlfriend came rushing through it. “Woah woah! What happened?” Evan asks as he stood up from the chair he was sitting in and (Y/n) almost ran outside.
When she reached the outside air, she couldn’t breathe. It was almost like she was choking on her own air. Evan had followed her outside, he was standing in front of her putting at first both his hands on her upper arms, but as soon as he realized she was hyperventilating one of his hands was moving towards her cheek. “Remember what I said right? Deep, slow breaths.” he calmly said as he tried to get her along, so she could copy him. Her eyes were focussed on Evan. Slowly breathing in and out, she put her hand on his chest so she could focus on Evan’s heartbeat. Something that always would calm her down.
She’s had a few panic attacks these last weeks, Evan didn’t at first know what to do. But right now, he was an expert in calming her down. Evan placed the hand he had on her upper arm down over her hand which was placed onto his own chest.
“Good, good..” He says as her trembling breath finally was in the same pace as his. ”You want to tell me what happened in there?” he slowly asks. He could basically already guess what has happened in there, but he still wanted to hear it from her. “No..” she sighed. “That’s okay.” Evan whispered as he brushed some strands of hair behind her ear.
(Y/n) closed the distance between her and Evan, she put her head down onto his shoulder as he reeled her into his chest and placed one hand on her lower back, and the other one rubbed up and down over her spine.
“We’ll be alright..” Evan says as he presses a kiss down onto the top of her head.
Part 2 - Next >
#911#911 fox#911 imagine#buck imagine#buck x reader#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley x reader#evanbuckley#imagine#911 abc
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