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ssahotstuff · 2 years

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Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

Bent by Matchbox 20 here

This is a stand-alone and does not go with a series.

Content Warnings: smut, oral, m&f recieving, penetration, cursing, crime and a case in which the reader is a member of the BAU and has been trapped in a cellar, so kidnapping, being restrained, mentions of blood, starvation and dehydration, the beginning of the fic is kind of dark. Reader briefly panicking. Rescue fic. but it has a happy ending. Slow burn kinda. Please tell me if I missed anything

Word count: 10.4k

"No, Hotch. We're with her now, she's okay," you were far from okay, but you were trying to hold it together for the sake of your team. You'd been in the darkness for longer than you could remember; the days or hours had felt like years trapped in that tiny room. He'd given you water and what had passed for food, but the days had blurred together.

"Where is he?" Your voice was cracking, but you managed to choke out the words, looking to Derek for an answer.

"He's coming, mama. He's right up the stairs," your eyes frantically scanned the steps, waiting for him to come down. You were glued to the floor, not literally, but despite the sweet ring of freedom, you couldn't muster the strength to pull yourself out of the floor. You heard the panicked steps of your unit chief hurrying down the flight of stairs and he'd finally came into view. His eyes scanned over you as he stalked towards you, JJ and Morgan moving out of his way as he leaned down to check on you.

"Come here. I've got you."

Those five words were all you needed to hear to crumple into him, his arms scooping you up to carry you bridal style out of the basement. The sun was so bright it hurt your eyes as he carried you to the ambulance, climbing in the back with you as they dealt with the gash on your head and gave you a general check up to see what the damage was.

"She's dehydrated and this needs to be properly cleaned and bandaged, but she should be okay," the EMT told Hotch, who sat with you the entire time they got you hooked up to the proper monitors. You couldn't even look at him because you weren't sure if there was anything you could say that could explain to him what had taken place over the period of time you'd been separated from your team.

"I know it probably seems like a blur right now, but I need you to tell me what you remember before they take you to the hospital."

Other than the last few moments, you struggled to recall anything useful. Not with such a sore throat and a splitting migraine. You tried to remember the day that you'd been taken; you knew you split up, Hotch went one way and you'd gone another, but it didn't explain how you'd managed to become trapped and held hostage by a psychopath.

"T-there was a man in the barn," the barn was where you'd split up, Hotch went to check the house and you stayed put, examining what looked like human remains when something put you out cold.

"And do you remember how he got you here?"

Flashes of memories flooded back; you'd been on your back in a van, traveling on a bumpy road for what seemed like hours.

"He had a van. Tied me up," you held up your wrists for him to see, rope burns and scrapes from the fiber still fresh on your skin. Hotch winced, holding out his hand for you to hold as the EMT began to clean your wounds.

"You've been gone for three days. We thought— I thought I'd lost you," you saw the unmistakable tears welling in his eyes; he'd blamed himself. You knew this whole time he would, even though there was no way of knowing he was lurking around in the barn, waiting to get one of you alone. It could have easily been him instead. You had been a victim of opportunity, and it could've happened to either of you.

"Three days? That's it?" Your heart began to race at the lost time, panic consuming you. You felt as trapped in the ambulance as you did in that room, frantically pulling the sensors from your skin to escape the confines of the vehicle. Hotch grabbed ahold of you before you could hurt yourself, stopping your flailing limbs and holding you in his lap, shushing you and rubbing your back, trying to get you to calm down.

"You're okay. I won't leave you again," he promised, his hand securely in yours as you rode to the emergency room. He had to wait outside of your room while they did some tests and you answered a series of uncomfortable questions, but as soon as they were finished, he was at your side, his eyes rimmed red from exhaustion.

"You'll get to leave soon," he said as he shut the door behind him, taking a tentative step forward as he took you in. You'd yet to see a mirror, so you could only imagine how you looked.

"I don't want to be alone," you felt pathetic, but after days of being alone, it was the last thing you wanted.

"My next suggestion was going to be that you come home with me," he sat at the end of your bed, staring down at his hands, neatly folded in his lap. You could feel the guilt consuming him from your spot on the bed, so you reached for his hand, letting his clasp yours up tightly.

"This isn't your fault, Aaron," you rarely used his first name, but you wanted him to know you were serious. Nothing either of you could have done would've changed the outcome. Peter Ray was a man on a mission, and he wasn't going to stop until he had one of you.

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he countered, his voice shaky as he looked up at you. You'd never seen him so upset.

"We cleared the barn together. Neither of us could've known he was in there. I'm telling you, this isn't your fault. I'm alive, and that's because you were smart enough to know Peter would have a secluded secondary location close to the water," you argued, the machine monitoring your blood pressure beeping rapidly until you slowed your breathing and calmed down.

"But it took me three days to figure out where. I'm not going to pretend to know what happened to you down there, but I will apologize, because I couldn't do more to stop it."

"If you hold onto this, it'll ruin you." His grip on your hand tightened because he knew you were right. You wanted him to forgive himself, because you knew he'd let it eat at him until it destroyed him inside.

"At least let me make it right."

Once you were discharged from the hospital, the first stop you made was at your apartment. Your strength still hadn't fully returned to your legs, so you were wobbly, holding onto his arm for stability as you stepped inside and took a look around. The walls felt smaller than usual, closing in on you quicker than you could gather your belongings in a duffel bag, making sure to grab a toothbrush and all of your shower stuff so you could wash off the grime of the last couple of days. Once you made it back to the living room, Hotch took your bag, so you locked your door behind you and dreaded the day you'd have to return alone.

The next stop was for food. Hotch let you choose, so there were two to go boxes from your favorite restaurant in a bag at your feet as he navigated you through the city and to his house. The ride had been mostly quiet, but comfortable. Hotch knew you didn't feel like talking, so he left you alone. You were thankful for that."

"Did he confess?"

"Derek took his confession shortly after we found you," his eyes never left the road but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. You assumed it was because Peter Ray had told Derek everything, and now the rest of the team had to figure out a way to face you everyday.

"I knew you'd find me, Hotch. I wasn't worried," you said finally, watching carefully as he glanced over at you. You were pulling into his driveway already, the garage door opening automatically as he pulled up to it.

"You don't have to be fine. I know you're strong, but you don't have to be, not right now."

You pushed the door open, grabbing the food as he followed behind you to make sure you didn't lose your footing. He seemed upset, and so you kept your mouth shut to keep from agitating him further. He got you seated at the table and you ate in silence, his eyes refusing to meet yours for the entire duration of your meal. It wasn't until you put your fork down that he spoke.

"Are you tired?" You shook your head, sleep was the furthest thing from your mind. You were terrified to close your eyes.

"We'll get you cleaned up and find something to watch, okay?" His tone was calm, soothing even. He carried your bag to the bathroom and helped you adjust the water to your liking before he left you alone, closing the door behind him. You peeled off your clothes and climbed into the shower, watching as the horrors of the past few days washed down the drain forever; your scars would heal, and you'd be okay eventually. You let the steady stream work out the tense feeling in your muscles, but you were still buzzing with energy, on edge. You found him as quickly as you could after you'd gotten dressed, seated on the couch with a glass of whiskey poured.

"Feel better?" You nodded, sitting on the opposite end. He poured you a glass too, his fingertips brushing yours as he handed you the cup. You let the harsh liquid burn all the way down, wincing slightly at the bitter taste.

"You said you knew I'd find you," he stared into his glass, ignoring the television, his voice low and deep.

"I did."

"How were you so sure?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you didn't know. You just knew that if anyone was going to find you, it would be Hotch. You were certain that he'd be the one to put the pieces together and find you at Peter's childhood home.

"I knew the same way I know you've got my back every time we step into the field. I just knew. And here I am. I know you're worried, and I know you blame yourself. I'm alive, Hotch. That's all because of you. You can either sit here and keep feeling like you failed because I got hurt, or you can be happy that I'm alive, because frankly, I was petrified that I'd never get to see you again," you had pondered all of your regrets while trapped in that room, and not sharing your feeling for your Unit Chief had been the biggest. You'd told yourself that if you made it out alive, you wouldn't keep how you felt a secret anymore. You weren't sure when you'd tell him, only that you would.

"I was so afraid that I wouldn't make it to you in time. I kept replaying our last conversation in my head. You were right about Peter and I didn't listen," you had tried to tell Hotch that victim number 3 fit the profile, but he'd been convincing to everyone except for you. He was the only male victim, and he shared nothing in common with the others. You'd immediately became suspicious because there was something about Peter that didn't sit right with you.

You'd convinced Hotch to talk to him a second time, which is how you'd ended up back at Peter's house in the first place. He made you come along so he could prove to you that he was right. Unfortunately, he couldn't have been more wrong. You'd argued the whole way there about how you were new, and your profiling skills weren't as in tune as the rest of the teams. You'd argued that he didn't want to listen to you because of the same fact; you were new, fresh.

Even after two years of busting your ass for the BAU, he still saw you as someone who hadn't been around as long as everyone else. That day especially, he'd made you feel like an outsider. It had started in the morning, when he singled you out about being too naïve; it was innocent enough, you'd been in the conference room and despite having vastly similar taste in movies and music, he still didn't take your interests seriously. Then he'd called you naïve. It had hurt your feelings more than anything, because you'd been so honed in on getting his attention and he had nothing nice to say. Derek had been there, and defended you as much as he could, but no one would speak out too much against Hotch.

And then there was the awkward car ride to the precinct. You sat in the back with Reid, Hotch and Morgan up front. Morgan asked you a simple question about the case, directly to you since you held the case file in your hands. Hotch had told him any questions he had shouldn't be directed towards you, but rather him, because he was in charge. It had caught you off guard simply because he never had an issue with you answering questions before. You let it go, once again, so your mood had been foul the day Peter had snatched you up. You knew Hotch was angry with you from the get go, so you tried your best to avoid him all day, until the topic of Peter Ray was addressed.

"That doesn't matter now," your voice quivered, because the last thing you wanted to do was argue with the man that you were secretly in love with over whether or not you were right or wrong. All that had mattered to you was him staying by your side through it all. He was at your side in an instant, bringing his arms around your waist. You returned the hug, letting his arms pull you into his lap as he held you close. You were relieved that it was finally over; you had won. You came out alive, and you were going to be okay eventually.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen," his hand gently brushed your hair back, his face buried in your shoulder. You would've stayed there for the rest of the night if he let you.

"Stop apologizing. Just let me be happy to be with you. I missed you, Hotch."

He chuckled into your neck, pulling back to look at you.

"I missed you. I'm glad you're here."

For a moment, he held you and all of your problems seemed to disappear. Things felt almost normal for a brief second with his arms tucked snugly around you.

"I'm glad you brought me with you. I don't know that I want to be alone," truthfully you were scared, mortified of being alone in the dark, even for a minute.

"You can stay as long as you want to. My bed will fit the both of us," he assured you, trying to coax you into getting some sleep. You let him lead you to the bedroom but asked that he keep the door open and the hallway light on, which he didn't mind at all. He let you choose your side of the bed and climb under the covers and then he climbed in after, leaving enough space between the two of you that your bodies weren't touching.

"Will you come closer?" You felt pathetic asking, but he rolled on his side and tossed his arm over you, blindly feeling for your hand in the darkness. Once he had it, his fingers laced through yours, letting you know he'd be there as long as you needed him.

"You're alright. I promise. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," you knew he'd never let anything hurt you again if he had the power to stop it. You laid in the darkness and tried to stay calm with Aaron holding you tight, but your breathing was ragged and your nerves were more on edge than ever.

"Come here," he patted his chest and invited you to lay on top of him, which was more comfortable than you wanted to admit. His large frame kept you secure, and your face was buried in his neck, your legs straddled over him. You were finally able to relax some thanks to the steady rhythm of his breathing and his hands rubbing your back, and soon enough you were asleep, but plagued by the worst nightmares you'd ever experienced.

"Hotch, this isn't funny anymore!"

You'd gotten split up from the rest of the group, turned around in this giant house. No one was answering through their earpiece, which meant you'd lost all communication with your team. You were blind with no backup, and you had an eerie feeling.

"Come on, Hotch! Morgan? Anyone? Sound off," you crept around the main floor, your gun at the ready. The house was dreadfully quiet, the same way it had been at the barn. There was static in your earpiece and you could hear the broken words of your Unit Chief coming through loud as day.

"Get...there...outside," you turned around and did one more sweep of the house, about to step over the threshold of the house when someone whistled from behind you.

Peter Ray.

You knew if they didn't need his confession, a bullet would have already been in him, but he simply stared you down, his head tilting methodically to the side as he studied you.

"Get down on the ground," you took a cautious step forward when you saw he didn't have a weapon, your gun trained on his chest. He stood still, unblinking, unmoving.

"I didn't need a weapon to destroy you," it was as if he was crawling around in your brain, using all of your thoughts against you.

"You didn't destroy me. I'm right here," the ligature marks on your wrists seemed to constrict you despite your bindings being off. You started to panic as Peter took a step forward.

"You may be physically present, yes. But mentally, you're far, far away with me. No one can help you here," you tried to back up but the door behind you slammed shut, and Peter rushed forward, giving you just enough time to dodge him and run for the back door. You could see Hotch waiting for you through the glass, pounding on the door from the outside for you to let him in. You tried to open it and it wouldn't budge, so you backed away so Hotch could try to knock out the glass.

"I told you, no one can help you here."

You could feel the tears, hot and wet on your face as Hotch shook you awake.

"You had a nightmare. You were screaming. You're alright now, I've got you." You hadn't moved from your spot on his chest. You were unsure of how he'd gotten any sleep with you draped over top of him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't apologize. I brought you with me because I knew it would happen and I wanted to be here when it did," he'd known all along that eventually your mind would go back to that dark place, and he was trying like hell to keep it from being any worse than it had to.

"I think I need to see him. Peter. Does he know I'm alive?"

Hotch shook his head. No one had told him. You knew he wouldn't be keen on the idea, but you agreed to let him be with you the entire time.

"You want to go now?"

You shrugged. You'd wait until the morning, but you doubted you would get any sleep until you confronted the man that was invading your peace.

"Come on, then. We'll go."

Hotch let you control the radio as you made your way to the local police station where Peter was being held until his trial. It was nearly 4 am, and everything was quiet, even inside the precinct.

"This is Officer Ruben, he made the arrest," Hotch introduced you and explained briefly what the circumstances were, and the Officer gave you ten minutes to talk to him, if he would agree to it. You waited impatiently for Ruben to talk to Peter, but eventually, he led you and Hotch to a windowless room, where Peter was already waiting for you.

"You're kidding! I had no clue you survived!" Peter was surprised to see you as you sat down across from him, your hands folded neatly on the table. He was a scrawny man, with a single tuft of blonde hair patched across the top of his head. His large rimmed glasses made his big, bright eyes more menacing than you'd initially remembered. You recalled him feeding you at some point, but you weren't sure how he'd given you anything. You didn't remember seeing his face the entire time you'd been in his cellar. You remembered the heat; you felt like you were suffocating for hours on end, and your voice still hadn't returned to normal from being without water so long.

"You fed me, why are you so surprised?"

Hotch stood a good distance behind you, his jaw set tightly and his lips pulled in a tight line across his face.

"Fed you? I don't think you're remembering correctly."

You thought back to your time in the cellar. You remembered being fed, but you had been dehydrated when they found you, so it made sense that you'd imagined it all after days without food or water. You couldn't have possibly known reality from hallucinations after being in the dark, in the sweltering heat for three days. Granted, it was nearing the end of summer, with the nights getting chillier, but the days had been almost unbearable.

"You—what?"

"I kept you in the same conditions as the other 4. You were the only one who made it. That isn't coincidence."

You sat back and observed him, crossing your arms over your shoulders. Hotch had promised not to say a word, but you could tell it was killing him to keep his mouth shut. He knew more details than you as far as his confession went; you had no clue what all he'd admitted to and that was the scariest part.

"It was a test of Will. 3 days of no elemental exposure. No human contact. No food or water. The others broke long before you, but you... You passed the test. And by about 8 hours longer. Almost 4 days, Agent. That's impressive. Must've had something to stay alive for."

You were sick to your stomach at the cruelty he possessed. You wondered what made him choose you. You didn't fit the victimology at all. He had targeted widows and newly divorced women before; you were neither of those things.

"Why me? I'm not your type."

His eyebrows cocked and his head turned to the side just as it had in your nightmare, making your skin crawl. You didn't let it show, you simply waited for his explanation.

"I saw a greatness in you far beyond your colleague behind you. He's the widow, but you're the real fearless one, isn't that right? You'd take a bullet for him with no hesitation. Same for the rest of your team. I didn't see you, but I heard you. You said their names like a prayer for the entire last day. It was endearing, really. The girl with no family finding a family of her own to give her strength. You should write a book, dedicate it to me," you knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, and it wasn't going to work. You'd learned from Rossi and Hotch that if you started talking, you gave him the power.

"The only thing dedicated to you is a super max cell," you shot back, earning a chuckle from him in response. He leaned forward, his shackled hands folded neatly on the table.

"But my experiment was successful. You, my ultimate creation. You will live on, stronger, braver, more powerful than before. Don't you see? I've done you a favor," he rationalized, and he was right. He'd done you a huge favor.

"Your right. You got yourself caught. You did all of us a favor. Let me tell you something, Peter. I'm brave because I've seen hell and I won. If you know that I have no family, then you must know that you aren't the first man I've survived," he nodded, his eyes meeting yours for a second, because it was the one thing you had in common. The tragic backstory you shared with him was what had drawn him to you in the first place. You were him, but stronger, because you weren't a monster.

"As I said, your bravery was admirable. But now, you're mighty. Even more so than your fearless leader."

Your ten minutes was halfway up. He was truly happy that you had survived. It didn't make any sense to you. You could only stare back at him comparing you to Hotch; he'd never convince you that Hotch wasn't the bravest man alive, and the most incredible man that you knew. He was trying to get a reaction from him, and Aaron wasn't biting.

"I did what I had to do," you said simply, because in your eyes, it was survival, not bravery.

"You survived and you conquered. You save lives, Agent. But I know what I did to you— to your mind. The real test of survival started when you came out of that cellar. How much can one woman handle before she bends so far she breaks?"

He was only trying to get inside of your head. He couldn't hurt you anymore. The nightmares would come, but when you woke up, he would be gone. You were sane enough to know that. When they did come, Hotch would be there. You were sure of it. Even months from now, you knew you could call him and he'd make everything alright again.

"The difference between you and I, other than the obvious, is that nothing can break me, Peter. You broke easily, any abused child has the likelihood of becoming an abuser. You saw the cycle in every foster home, every mother that should have loved you, they hurt you, Peter. You couldn't stand to see a weak woman, and you viewed all the women you killed as weak. They weren't weak, Peter. You are. You couldn't even face us; you had to subdue us from the shadows. That's a coward. You couldn't even face me. Do you know why, Peter? Because you can hurt my body, and you can crush my spirit, but you cannot break me."

That really pissed him off, which meant you'd done what you'd came to accomplish. You had been right about him all along. He was nothing but a weak man who gained validation from hurting women at their most vulnerable. He was more than a coward; he was pathetic.

The tables turned however, when he directed his attention towards Hotch.

"Has she told you yet? She swore she'd tell you if she made it out alive, those were her exact words."

You could feel his gaze on you, but he didn't entertain Peter's question, which immediately made him burst into hysterical laughter.

"Who's the coward now, agent? You can survive in deplorable conditions, but you can't talk about your feelings?"

You felt choked up, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of an actual response.

"I can talk about whatever I want, whenever I want, because I'm not going to spend 23 hours a day in a cell alone."

You were done with him, standing from the table with a jolt, nodding to Hotch that you were ready to go.

"I hope you tell him, Agent! I'd hate to know my fearless creation was plagued by stage fright at her most powerful," he called out, but you shrugged him off, thanking Officer Ruben for letting you speak to him on such short notice.

"That's the most he's talked since he's been here," Ruben told you, but you were sure he'd sing like a bird at his triumph for years to come. You'd survived him, sure. But now you had to survive the aftermath of becoming his success story. Hotch led you to the car, the tension thick in the air surrounding the two of you. You knew you'd have to have a conversation with him at some point; explain yourself. But it was 6 am, and you didn't feel like staying up half the morning explaining why you felt things for him.

He was easy to fall for, but hard to gain affection from. The last 12 hours had been a drastic shift from his normal stern, authoritative behavior. He'd been soft and comforting with you, and he hadn't thought for a second about it. You wondered what sort of secrets he held about you behind those big brown eyes, and if they were anything similar to yours. It wasn't entirely impossible; you knew no normal man would treat you the way that he had just because he was your boss.

"What sounds good for breakfast?"

He was planning to stay up with you, because every nerve ending you had was buzzing with energy. You felt like a live wire, flickering with anxiety at how you were feeling.

"You pick. I picked dinner," you reminded him, so he took off, taking a right before pulling into a small 24/7 diner off the main road.

"I'll grab it to go and we can take it to the house," he offered, and that sounded like a good enough plan to you. You waited in the car, pondering how you were going to tell Hotch about your feelings for him. You'd gotten close once before on the jet, everyone else had been asleep and he was slumped over on your shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth opened slightly. You weren't thinking when you darted your hand out to gently brush his face, but his eyes had fluttered open, and he leaned into your touch before drifting back to sleep. You'd almost told him when he woke up, but the words had gotten stuck in your throat.

He was everything you wanted, and you had been so close. He was letting you sleep on top of him, holding you and consoling you through the most delicate time you'd faced so far with the BAU. It had started to rain when he raced back to the car, shaking the droplets from his hair as he handed the food to you.

"Don't worry, I got pancakes instead of waffles," a smirk teased the corners of his lips, because you'd gotten into a debate earlier in the week about how pancakes were far better. He disagreed, but he'd remembered it well enough to be able to order your favorite foods, and that was a special kind of care to you.

"You're the best," he made a soft humming sound before pulling out, slowing down slightly because of the weather. You'd gotten caught in the morning rush hour, traffic everywhere as you were nearly at a complete stop in the middle of the highway.

"Did talking to Peter make you feel any better?" You knew it was coming, so you braced yourself for impact.

"Yes and no. I hate that he feels like he won somehow."

"But he didn't. His end game is prison. You could be my successor, if you really wanted it. That's where I see your future heading."

"I don't want that. I'm not so sure I want to think about the BAU for a week or so."

"I know. That happens. But when you're ready, I'll be here for you."

He had experienced this sort of thing; facing an unsub head to head more than once; but his trauma had been devastating. You knew he understood what you were feeling and why, and that's why he was the best person for you to be around during your recovery. You both knew it. Otherwise he would've sent you with JJ, or Penelope. But he knew you'd need him over the course of the next couple of days.

"Thank you for taking me. I know you're probably exhausted."

"Well we aren't doing anything today, so I figured we could take a nap later," a nap sounded like a good idea now that you were starting to relax some.

"I haven't taken an actual nap in ages. Not in a bed," you admitted, and you knew he felt the same. Your naps usually consisted of a few hours worth of rest on a bumpy jet.

"Me either. It'll be nice," you pulled into the garage and followed him inside. You sat at the table and had breakfast with him, lost in a fantasy that was consuming your every thought. You could get used to sharing quiet, quaint meals with him like this, and sharing a bed with him. Despite the tangled way you'd slept, you'd been more comfortable on his chest than you ever felt in your own bed. You fought with your feelings, because eventually you'd have to get around to telling him. He'd get curious, or it would come up in conversation and you'd be blindsided, so you wanted to have the upper hand and make sure he knew before it had the chance to get awkward. You were just waiting for the right moment to tell him how you felt.

Secretly, you hoped he beat you to it. You hoped you shared a knowing glance and all would be revealed the way it should be, but you knew better than to delve into that unrealistic scenario for more than a second.

You'd been starving, scarfing down your breakfast in no time. He was happy to see you eating, occasionally smiling at you from his spot across the table.

"You know, Peter was right about you. You're fearless. Not a lot of people could confront him the way you did," he said softly, trying to lift your spirits some. It was working, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips.

"I wasn't going to be able to sleep until I did."

"I know. How are you feeling now? Up for a movie, maybe?" You nodded, excusing yourself to change back into your pajamas so you could be comfy. You met him in his bedroom, his slacks replaced by a pair of black pajama pants and his white shirt clung to his skin as he spread out the blanket and made the bed for you to climb into. He'd made a pile of pillows at the head of the bed and instructed you to get comfortable, popping in Footloose as he climbed in the bed with you. He scooted close, you were hip to hip with him, leaning into him, your head on his shoulder. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around you, making sure you were tightly tucked into him as the movie started.

"I enjoy getting to do this stuff with you," he said carefully, opening his palm so you could place your hand in his. It was more intimate now than before because his tone was different; his tone had changed drastically anyway because he wanted you to feel safer, so his voice had been softer, sweet.

"Me too. It makes me wish we could do it all the time." You had a moment of bravery, anxiously waiting to hear his reply.

"We don't get a lot of free time, but I wouldn't mind spending mine just like this. With you," his voice was steady as he took the reigns, telling you how he felt before you had the chance. You knew he'd instigated it for a reason; he was dying to know what you had to say.

"About what Peter said, when he'd asked if I told you yet..."

"You don't have to say anything, Y/n. You can tell me when you're ready," he assured you, but you shook your head.

"I'm ready now, Hotch. He was right. I am afraid of telling you how I feel about you. But I promised myself I would if I made it out alive. I'm crazy about you, Hotch. Everything about you draws me in. I can't get enough of you."

His eyes raked over you slowly, lingering on your lips. You gripped his hand tighter, afraid he may suddenly reject you or that you'd said the wrong thing. His fingers tugged at your chin to lift your face, his brown eyes boring into yours.

"Can't get enough of me, huh?" The undeniable smile on his face told you all you needed to know; he felt the same.

"I tried to fight it for so long but I don't want to fight it anymore," you closed the gap between you, accepting his urgent mouth and feverish kiss as he gently cupped your face, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth to taste you.

"No reason to fight it. You know, I made the same promise to myself: I'd tell you when I found you. You being gone made me realize how much I need you around."

You were elated to hear him say what you'd been thinking for months now. Things were looking up, and you had each other now. There were still obvious kinks to work through, but you belonged to him as long as he would have you.

"You're so tense, sweetheart. Let me help you," you gave him a small nod as he lifted your shirt above your head, careful to be gentle of your bandage. You knew he'd be easy with you, take care of you the way you needed him to.

"So beautiful. Look at you. I can't believe I actually have you here," his mouth peppered kisses on your chest, sucking tender love marks onto the swell of your breast. His hands unclasped your bra and his tongue attached to your nipples, taking turns swirling them around in his mouth, a low groan coming from his chest as he learned your body. Your hips grinding against his for friction, earning a hiss in response from him.

"Oh baby, so needy. Does it feel good, riding my thigh like this?" You could only nod, lost in the feeling that it gave you. It was erotic in the most innocent of ways, but still so naughty at the same time. His hands helped guide your hips across his thigh, your panties rubbing perfectly against your center to help aid some of the ache you felt.

"I need you so badly," you squeaked, your arms wrapped around his neck. He laid you down on the pile of pillows, admiring you, letting his hands explore your skin. You felt like he actually saw you, more than just on the surface. He saw through you, and he was the antidote for fixing you because he knew what it took to do so.

"You're perfect for me," his sweet words melted you like butter, you were in a trance, under his spell. You let him strip your lower half down as he left a trail of kisses from your lips to your thighs, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. You watched as he crawled between your legs, spreading them slightly. His massive hands massaged your thighs as he spread them, kissing upwards your center.

"You look so good between my legs," you purred, watching with your mouth agape as he licked a stripe up you before allowing his tongue to settle on your clit.

"You taste so good baby," the pet name had rolled off his tongue so easily it sounded as if it was made for you. He peered up at you, batting his lashes before he sucked your clit between his teeth, flicking it lightly with his tongue. You did little to muffle the moan that escaped, instead you arched your back and let him mark you up as his own. Surely there would never be another hand to touch you the way he had, you were almost certain you'd never be able to replace the way he made you feel, even if you spent the rest of your life trying.

You were close, whimpering his name and wiggling against the sheets until you were held down in place by him, his arms keeping your waist steady so he could continue giving you the pleasure you so desperately needed. You came hard, shuddering and moaning shamelessly, his own sweet sounds driving you on the brink of insanity at how he would sound once you were sinking down onto him. You couldn't stop watching him; he just looked so good working so hard to bring you over the edge. His pupils were completely blown out in a lust driven frenzy, and his tongue flicked rapidly against you, making your legs shake.

"I want you all for myself," you said selfishly, running your fingers through his hair as he gazed up at you.

"I'm all yours, sweetheart. I'm always going to take care of you, in every way." You knew he would, because that's the kind of man he was; true to his word, loyal. You trusted him completely, which is why you weren't the first bit shy being exposed like this in front of him. You hadn't felt the need to be shy with him, because he knew you better than anyone else.

His tongue never stopped, but his fingers teased your slit, his fingers coated in your arousal as they pumped in and out of you, slowly at first, curling upward into your sweet spot. You begged him for more, his fingers speeding up inside of you. It felt like heaven as you slumped into the pillows and let him fuck you with his fingers, his mouth glued to you. He didn't try to hide his excitement when you came again, grinning cheeky from ear to ear up at you.

"What's got you so happy, Hotchner?" His smile was contagious as he crawled up your body, meeting your mouth with his. You'd never get used to the feeling of kissing him, how his mouth felt, how he tasted. You were addicted in every sense of the word.

"You. Everything about you. You're astounding to me, you know that?" His hand slipped between your thighs to drag them apart as he hovered over you, his cock throbbing through his pants. You reached out and palmed him through his pajamas, watching his brows pull tightly together at your touch.

"I was just thinking the same thing about you," you shot back, tugging his pants past his hips. Once he was in his boxers, you traded places with him, instructing him to lay down so you could climb on top of him. You freed him from the confines of his underwear, taking his member in your hand before you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock, his mouth agape as he watched you. You took him into your mouth, flattening your tongue against him so you could put him in your throat. His hands latched onto your hair and guided you up and down his length at a slow pace so he could enjoy the warmth your mouth offered. He sighed deeply, content as you choked on his dick.

"You have no idea how good your mouth feels," this only caused you to take him further into your mouth, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as his dick found it's way into your throat. He let out a deep, low moan, sputtering thick ribbons of cum into your mouth as he found his release. You let his dick fall from your mouth, your breathing ragged as you rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath.

"C'mere," his hand patted your arm as he pulled you towards the pillows, the two of you exhausted from your late night and early morning. He tucked the covers in at your side and let you fall asleep, and by the time you woke, it was dark outside. He'd turned the television on, trapped by your head resting on his arm. He hadn't dared to move for fear of waking you up. You rubbed your eyes, trying to blink away the drowsiness as you got adjusted to the dark. You cuddled into his side, not ready to move just yet. He kissed your forehead and you gave him his arm back so he could stretch it out. For a moment, you just laid there watching whatever he'd picked on the tv; you weren't sure but it looked like something on the Discovery Channel.

"I haven't been up long," he said softly, letting you roll into him, tossing your leg over his waist.

"You're so warm," you nuzzled into his neck, kissing him lightly. It was going to be hard to go back to your own bed after sharing his; you were already used to how easy it was to fall asleep next to him.

"You're a tiny furnace," he chuckled, patting your back so you'd climb onto him. He waited until you were wrapped around him to sit up, instructing you to stay still so he could carry you to the kitchen. Of course he wanted to carry you around; you were the perfect size, you fit so well in his arms, and he acted as if you weighed nothing, the way he so effortlessly toted you around. He sat you on the counter, still trapped between your legs.

"We need to find you something to eat. You haven't eaten since this morning," you were well aware thanks to the grumbling in your stomach, and you'd never argue with food. You watched him float about the kitchen as he made you a snack; he couldn't wipe that smile from his gorgeous face.

However when he sat your snack down and carried you at the table, he looked sadder than you had ever seen him.

"I need to apologize for the day Peter took you. I gave you hell all day long, and you deserve to know that it's because I was battling with my feelings for you too. I thought I could keep you at a distance and I couldn't, and so I took it out on you. I was arrogant about Peter because I just knew you were wrong, and my arrogance got you taken. I didn't even try to hear you out so we could gather more information. You picked up on things that a room full of people much older and experienced than you, didn't even catch."

You stared blankly at him for a moment, struggling with what to say. You'd never blame him, but he couldn't stop blaming himself.

"Stop apologizing. You saved my life, Hotch. The rest is irrelevant to me."

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together between his legs.

"I just needed you to know that I'm sorry. I feel awful about that entire day. If I would've just listened to you—"

"We can't change it, Aaron. I wish we could, but we can't. Just promise me next time you'll at least hear me out," he nodded, his hand darting out to cup your face.

"I promise."

He pushed your plate towards you while he made coffee, pouring the two of you a cup once you'd finished eating. You followed him to the living room, joining him on the couch. He already had a movie in the DVD player, so you curled in next to him, cradled by his warmth.

"I'm wide awake and still drinking coffee," he muttered, chuckling to himself, and it seemed like you had more in common than you thought.

"I do the same thing. I drink it from daytime to dark most days, whether I need it or not."

"Trust me, I know. You drink an obscene amount of it when we're on a case," he joked, but it was true. It was caffeine in its most precious form.

"You drink every cup I bring you, so I don't want to hear it," you shot back, leaning into him once he was through with his cup and had sat it back down.

"You know, Morgan was the one that pointed out the fact that you only bring me coffee in the mornings," he peered down at you, and you knew your cheeks were flushed. You could feel the heat radiating on your face.

"Looking back, I wasn't so subtle," you had been at first, but shortly after you decided that he was in your brain at all times whether you liked it or not, you started going out of your way for him. Staying late to finish reports, helping him when he needed to get caught up on work. You two stayed the latest in the office most nights, and a lot of it was because you were trying to lighten his load.

"You were, because I had no idea. Not until the day after Peter took you. Morgan and I talked and I realized I needed to come clean when we found you because it's a lot to carry around," you knew that feeling all too well; you'd been dancing the same routine for months now around your feelings for him.

"My biggest fear was that I wasn't going to make it to be able to tell you. I should've said something sooner," you told him, watching as he silently lifted his arm, beckoning you into his lap without a word. You crawled on top of him, letting your fingers memorize the way his arms felt under your touch, and how he shivered when you put your arms behind his neck and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You don't have to be afraid of anything anymore. I promise you that," you knew it was true; he'd never let anything hurt you again, and you knew that for a fact.

"I know. When do you think I can come back to work?"

"You aren't serious? I'd like to see you take at least a month off," your eyes went wide. What were you possibly supposed to do with a month off of work? Especially if he was still planning on going back? You couldn't just sit idle and watch them continue without you.

"A month is excessive," you said simply, earning an eye roll from him in response.

"A month is me giving in and giving you your way. If it were up to me, I'd say at least 6 weeks."

There was no way you'd make it 6 weeks without going insane. A few weeks was bearable; 6 weeks was pushing it beyond that.

"A month it is. I won't even complain, just don't keep me out 6 weeks. Please," you could already feel the growing boredom from 4 weeks you'd be required to be absent.

"I'd keep you out forever if I could. Keep you safe here, where I didn't have to worry about you ever again," you knew he was just trying to ease his own worries; he'd never actually ask you to leave. He wouldn't do it, and you knew he'd never expect you to either.

"And then I'd do nothing but worry about you," you'd worry the entire time you were on the sidelines; he'd leave and you'd be a wreck until he arrived home in once piece.

"Not having you around for a month is going to be strange. Will you let me see you when I'm home?"

"Is that a real question?" You'd be around anytime he was available for you, no hesitation. Now that you had him, you wanted him around as much as possible.

"I just want to be able to come home and feel normal with you. The last 24 hours has felt more routine to me than the last 3 years alone. Being with you is easy," you didn't know how to explain to him that you'd felt the exact same way. Walking into his arms was like walking home.

"Then stick around for a while," your lips met his and the fire ignited; if it wasn't burning before, it was an inferno now. His mouth melted against yours, the both of you a heavy panting mess in no time. His hands slipped beneath the shirt you were wearing before tugging it off gently, and then he took off his own, his skin hit against yours. There was something sexy about being pressed against him, feeling his skin beneath your own. It was your physical reminder that he was here; you had fought hard and won, and your prize was a life with Aaron. Peter would rot in prison, and the two of you would thrive together; you could feel it in every fiber of your being.

"You know, I can physically feel myself falling in love with you already," his mouth was hot against yours, his fingers toying with your nipples. You could feel how hard he was already, his dick throbbing against your thighs as you rocked back and forth on him, making him moan into your mouth. You were eagerly anticipating how he would feel, the sounds he would make once he was inside of you. You'd been dreaming of him for months and he was a mess beneath you, his hair disheveled from your wandering hands, his eyes growing darker by the second.

"Then keep me. I know it'll be hard but I promise it'll be worth it," he nodded, taking a breath to look up at you.

"You're worth it."

His hands met your thighs as he stood up, bringing you along with him. You planted wet, hot kisses on his neck, his chest, raking your nails along his back and shoulders as he carried you to the bedroom, gently laying you sideways on the bed. Your feet hung off the edge, but it put you in a perfect position for him to climb between your legs, parting them to stand between them. He scanned your body hungrily, pulling your panties and pajama pants off in one swift motion to fall to the floor. He quite literally fell to his knees in front of you, planting soft kisses along your thighs and hips, making you prop up on your elbows to watch him.

The twinkle in his eyes was mesmerizing as he teased your slick center with his fingers, coating his fingers with your arousal. You hissed when his fingers slipped inside of you and began to curl in an upwards motion, making your head fall back against the pillows.

“I want to feel you,” he was shrugging down his pants, stroking his length in his hand while he gazed down at you, just as starstruck as the first time he had you naked. You let your legs go limp against the mattress as he lined up with you, his breathing already ragged and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. You held your breath as he slid inside of you, letting him stretch and fill you in a way that you never thought possible.

“Look at me,” you met his eyes, watching his pupils dilate as he started to thrust into you, slowly, rolling his hips to meet your thighs. It took a few strokes for him to bottom out inside of you; he shuddered when you clenched tightly around him, hooking his arms under your knees to pull you forward, to the edge of the bed.

“I hope you stay forever,” his hand reached for yours as he fucked you so slowly, so gently, it was enough to have every single sense buzzing like a live wire. You were focused on his waist, the steady rotation of his hips, and the way they rolled against you to bring you more pleasure than you’d ever known.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shot back, gripping his hand tightly in yours. He leaned forward, kissing you like you were the cure for all of his problems. His tongue pushed past your teeth, massaging against yours lightly as you tried to suppress a moan, but at his current angle, he was deeper in you than you thought possible, the sound of his flesh smacking against yours echoing throughout his bedroom. He slowly lifted your legs, bringing them up to his chest, holding them tightly together.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” as far as you were concerned, it was more than enough, him folding you up like a pretzel so he could have his way with you. You watched in awe as he made love to you; that’s the only way you could describe it. You could feel everything at once, from his words penetrating your heart and soul to his body, pressed up against yours in the most sensual way. You felt like nothing would ever compare to now, with him holding your legs up and his dick pulsing inside of you.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” as soon as the words left your mouth, you found your release, moaning his name and grabbing his hips to make sure he didn’t fucking stop. You were on cloud nine, your orgasm still rattling your body as his pace quickened, just a fraction, but enough to have your head spinning, and your mouth slightly agape as you writhed against the smooth fabric of his comforter. You wanted him forever; there was no other way to say it. You knew without him in your life, you’d spend your days unfulfilled, unsatisfied unless you belonged solely to Aaron Hotchner, and you were determined to keep him around for as long as you could have him. You’d happily spend the rest of your life tucked beneath him, learning what his body liked and what he desired; you wanted to give him pleasure in every form imaginable. You would’ve done anything for him, and it was evident by the way his eyes never left yours that he felt the same.

It was as if you were tethered to him by an invisible string, letting him hold the balance of your life in his hands. You knew he’d always protect you, keep you safe. You weren’t worried in the slightest about giving your heart to him; he already had it. You knew it was safe with him, and that you felt closer to him than anyone from your past. You had always belonged to him, but now that it was requited, there was nothing stopping you from diving headfirst into loving him.

His sweet kisses were driving you mad, against your jaw, and right below your ear, his mouth sucked softly at your tender skin, leaving his mark on you in the best ways. You were close again, and you could tell he was getting close too. There was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and you’d never seen him so peaceful. He looked completely at ease, letting all of his worries melt away each time he slid into you. You felt the euphoria wash over you within seconds, gripping his arms tightly as you found your release. It was mind-bending even now how you didn’t have to say a word, and he already knew what your body needed.

You could feel him sputtering into you as he leaned forward to capture you in a kiss, panting and breathless against you. For a moment he was still inside of you, leaned over on top of you, giving you the loving you so desperately craved from him. He kissed you hard on the mouth, brushing your hair back from your face so he could get a good look at you. You felt weightless; you could’ve sank into the bed and stayed there for the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe I finally have you,” it was him that broke the silence, his head on your chest as he slid out of you, sighing heavily when he did so.

“Believe it, because now you won’t ever get rid of me,” you giggled, earning a low chuckle from him in response.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you laugh. It’s one of the best sounds in the world.”

He stood up and grabbed a towel, cleaning you off as you sat up, but not for long. He was pulling up his pants and crawling into the bed, pulling you towards the pillows. He sat up against the headboard, letting you sit between his legs, propped up against him. His arms were warm around you, warm enough to nearly pull you into slumber.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you. This bed won’t feel the same without you in it,” his words rumbled through you, making your stomach fill with butterflies immediately. Tre truth was, if you didn’t have to leave, you wouldn’t. You had found your solace in him, and as long as he was around, you wanted to be there too.

“I’ll be around whenever you’re free,” you assured him, his light chuckle enough to have you wrapping your arms around his torso, kissing the sensitive skin of his neck and chest.

“You can stay here whenever you want, you know. While I’m gone, and you’re out of work. You could always just stay here,” his hand was rubbing your back, which was on the fast track to putting you to sleep.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do. You can stay whenever you want. I’ll show you tomorrow where I keep the spare key,” he scooted down to lay next to you, kissing you lightly before you both took turns yawning. You were both exhausted, and his bed seemed like the perfect spot to settle in for the night. He was already pulling the covers over your legs, tucking it in at your side before he rolled over to cuddle you. He kissed your cheek in the darkness, and you turned to meet him lips instead. He hummed lightly, his leg tossed lazily over yours, his breathing already starting to slow. The troubled memories from the last few days seemed miles away now, you compartmentalized them in the back of your mind, so you only had room for Aaron there. You had survived and now you would get to live your happily ever after, all with your favorite person by your side.

#aaron hotchner playlist collection #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #criminal minds fandom #aaronhotcnher #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you

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stilldancewithyou · 2 years

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proud of you: an EJ Caswell x oc fic (sneak peek)

here is a little sneak peek of something I've been working on. just a little story in which EJ gets the love, support, and friend that he deserves. it's taking place pre-1 month later, right after camp.

this is just a sneak peek, there is an extended version of this scene and I have sooo many ideas for this story so please let me know if you like it and want to read more/what you think!

I see him before he sees me. He's walking in my direction with his head low, looking towards the ground and he doesn't seem to know or care where he's going. He looks sad and deflated and worn out. I don't think I've ever seen him look so unsure of himself and just so...miserable. Especially not after camp. I stand there like an idiot for so long trying to figure out what to say that he's the one who breaks the silence first.

"Ellie?" EJ looks up, his expression transforming into one of shock as his eyes fall on me. "Are you really here or am I dreaming?"

"Hi EJ," I smile at him, "I'm really here. I'd be happy to pinch you if you need me to."

"Oh no, that's not necessary," He says, and a smile breaks across his face but doesn't quite reach his eyes. Then he looks at me again, smiling wider. "Oh my gosh, Ellie...it's so good to see you." And the next thing I know, he's engulfing me in a big hug, and we're both laughing as he lifts me up and spins me around before setting me back down. I can't help noticing that his arms are strong and muscular, and he smells good, like cologne. I don't remember him ever wearing cologne before. "And who's this? You finally got the dog you always wanted?" He bends over to greet Darby, petting her head and scratching behind her ears. Darby excitedly leans into his hand, loving the attention, and EJ has the closest I've seen to a real smile on his face as he coos to her. "Hi puppy...you're a good girl."

"Yeah, she was kind of a bribe. My parents basically said 'you can't live in Salt Lake like you want to, so have this dog instead' and called it a compromise," I explain, rolling my eyes. "First promise you won't laugh when I tell you her name."

"I promise I will not laugh," EJ says, with a glimmer of a smirk, like he's already trying not to laugh, "okay, okay, I might laugh a little. But never at you."

"Okay," I take a deep breath and grin at him as he waits expectantly, "I call her Darby, but her name is really Ms Darbus. Like the theater teacher in High School Musical. You know how much I loved those movies when we were little, and they've always been my comfort movies."

"Oh, I know who Ms Darbus is," He says with poorly suppressed laughter, "you were obsessed. We watched them so many times I have the entire trilogy committed to memory. I'm pretty sure you made me do the sing-along so many times I know the songs better than Zac Efron."

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it too," I giggle, bumping his shoulder with mine. "Zac Efron who? You're the only Troy for me."

"That actually means a lot, Ellie," EJ smiles, but it's sort of a sad smile, and I'm confused. "You're the only Gabriella for me, too."

"So, how was camp?" I ask, smiling at him. I'm a little surprised that he hasn't brought it up himself yet, I had thought he wouldn't be able to shut up about it he'd be so excited to tell me. Besides the obvious fact that he directed an amazing musical and how huge a deal it is that he's going to be on Disney plus, it's just his personality to be overly excited about camp and theater, and about anything he does in general.

His playfulness from moments earlier fades away, and he takes a long time to answer. "It's...a long story."

"Well, I have at least a year, so, no rush," I joke lightly, and then I smile up at him, "I watched your directorial debut on Disney+ and oh my gosh, it was amazing. I think I actually liked it better than the version I saw on Broadway last year, and you really expect me to believe that was the first show you've ever directed? You're really talented. I'm so proud of you, EJ."

He just stands there, looking at me with disbelief and swirling emotions in his eyes. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, and it makes me feel sad too.

"Are you okay, E? Did I say something wrong, or...?" I put my hand on his shoulder in what I hope is a comforting gesture.

"No, no, you're-you're fine, it's just...you're the first person who has said that. That-that you're proud of me." He barely manages to choke out the words, and his voice cracks on the last word. I move closer and pull him into a hug, and he squeezes me tight against his chest, his head resting on my shoulder. I hold him like that in silence for a long time. There are some moments that don't need words to be said. And when the right person is there with you, a million understandings and words are being felt without any being said.

#ej caswell #hsmtmts #hsmtmts 3 #hsmtmts season 3 #hsmtmts season 4 #ej caswell x oc #ej caswell x reader #ej caswell defense squad #ej caswell x original character #ej caswell fic #hsmtmts fic #my fic writing #ej caswell fanfic #this is the first piece of fic writing i've ever post on here and i'm kinda nervous #also the extended version has a longer intro that explains more and gives a lot of background on ellie and her friendship with ej #also this probably not going to be the official title i haven't decided yet #proud of you

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cantalooprat · 2 years

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Hope You've Been Well

What I Liked

"hope you've been well" readers r not well reading this

tbh the biggest "plot twist" in the story is how it feels like gu zhuoyan is set up to be the "wife chaser"---from the manhua promo pics showing him as the cold and aloof city guy in contrast to zhuang fanxin's naive and sweet countryside boy look, gu zhuoyan having stricter parents, gu zhuoyan being way richer, the setting of "he's only staying for a year", gu zhuoyan saying things like “i’ll make him fall for me to get back at my parents”, so i was rly shook when it's actually zhuang fanxin who constantly breaks his promises (though unintentionally) and becomes the "husband chaser" post-timeskip

their breakup chapters made me tear up ngl it was so drawn out and so so sad

the post-timeskip chapters r so fukin heavy?? like the author "tried" to make it a "romcom" with zfx chasing after gzy but there r so many inconsistencies in zfx's behavior and he's changed so much that one can't help but feel like there is something Extremely Wrong here

I ALSO TEARED UP AT THE END WHEN THEY GOT MARRIED ASJDKDDSL hybw wins the award of danmei that made me cry thank you thank you

fak i was so invested in pei zhi and lu wen since they met in their teenage years but the author nvr stated they'd be a canon side ship but i still! shipped them!!!!

it's moumou but more depressing; i'd compare moumou to yybl's pts/fjx and hybw to waterfire, they kinda have that kind of vibe ish. moumou is very... at the core the drama is family-centered and jiang tian/sheng wang r rly quite "ideal" strong leads, and nothing drastic happens during the time skip, but in here zfx suffered so fukin much holy shit i'm so glad he got retribution and can finally be happy with gzy

there was a review that complained how zfx is inconsistent post timeskip, how he’s a “bad cop” professionally but turns into a muddling teenager when w gzy, and i just… rly disagree with that lmao like it’s p clear how he turned out like that, how he built this “stronger, better self” so he could cover up his history of depression and make it seem like he’s a better match for gzy than in the past

god when it was revealed that zfx's "let's break up bc i fell in love w someone else and he wants me to delete ur contact" call to gzy was a call he made before he attempted suicide and just wanted gzy to let go and move on to find someone better my heart broke… he literally called gzy and was happy to hear his voice before what he thought would be his death

other things that make me think: it was mentioned that zfx chased after gzy so desperately like his life depended on it, and zfx did say that if gzy rejected him, he'd just continue to live on and wish him well, but i just wonder what zfx would have done after that, is he rly ok, would he lapse back to thinking that there's nothing else worth living for anymore, bc gzy was literally his lifeline during his darkest times

the "op-ness" of mc n ml aren't overly emphasized unlike most other school setting danmei where both of them have legions of fangirls and campus forum posts abt them, it's kind of a minor detail but i appreciate the lack of cringe

What I Disliked

pei zhi and lu wen aren't canon /unreasonable tbf the author nvr stated theyre gna be canon, nor did these two seem to have romantic inclinations towards one another... but the chemistry... the subtext... compared to cheng jiashu who doesn't seem to make a good impression in general ofc lu wen seems like the better option… also the author straight up said cheng jiashu is a plot device LMAO he literally only exists to move the story along…

has that v kdrama like climax where everything near the end suddenly becomes super dramatic, like the development is logical and laid out well but it's still... v dramatic…

lowkey the summary is misleading i thought they’d meet on a blind date after their separation as in their intended blind date is each other but then it was actually a wrong room situation instead… nothing wrong with it but webnovels and misleading summaries name a more iconic duo

Notes

moumou sent me into a spiraling abyss of modern setting danmei and i ended up here

lowkey hywb gave me aoe emotional damage the post timeskip was actually p emotionally taxing to read

220918 update: tfw i realized the lu wen in crossover actors is hybw lu wen LMAO MY PEI ZHI AND LU WEN SHIP SUNK BEFORE IT COULD EVEN BEGIN

#cantalooprat reads

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

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emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

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the-original-skipps · 3 years

Text

Fluffy Alphabet A-Z

Sano Manjiro aka Mikey

Note: Thank you so much for 100+ followers. I wouldn't have been able to get his far without your support. I'm super overjoyed and glad that you guys take the time to read my writing. I love you all very much as promised I hope you enjoy the fluffy alphabet! 💗

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

> Mikey likes to go for rides on his CB205T and he likes to bring you along. He just loves the feeling of the wind passing and your presence behind him. Maybe sharing some snacks while you both watch the sunset or the starry night sky, talking about random things. He just generally likes being around you even if you're both just sitting in silence.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

> He admires your determination and strong will. Since Mikey is mentally weak, he admires those traits in other people. No matter what you'd always be there to scold him or comfort him. It reminds him of his older brother.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

> Mikey instantly knows if you're feeling down, he just senses it. He'll bring you somewhere where they could both be alone maybe a park or he'll drive somewhere and sit you down. Mikey won't force you to tell him what's wrong but if you do he'll be listening intently. He's not the best at comforting people but makes sure to let you know that he's here for you.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

> Now this is a hard topic to answer. Mikey has pictured a future with his s/o, living in peace after all the rush during his teenage years. However, he doesn't see it happening because he knows it's best if he keeps his s/o away from him in the future.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

> I'd say he's both but mostly on the passive side. He lets you take the lead since he doesn't know much about being in a relationship. He'll be given advice and teased by his close friends but he'll keep their words in mind.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

> Mikey is pretty stubborn and doesn't like losing. If it's a petty harmless arguement, if he's wrong then he'll muttering an apology to you and completely forget about it. It's difficult to get into a serious argument with him unless it's something concerning him or Toman. Say the things he needs to hear even if himself doesn't agree with you. Then he'll leave to give himself space and think about things. Be patient with him because eventually he'll come around.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

> Mikey is very grateful for you being by his side even though he thinks he doesn't deserve it. He appreciates every gesture you do for him from the big things and to the little things such as making him lunch or fixing his hair or just being by his side when he feels he's losing himself.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

> Mikey doesn't hide things, if you ask him something he will directly answer you. He has no trouble talking about a past event since it already happened. Even though he doesn't want you getting involved with Toman, he still tells you about how they're doing or what they're up to. The only things he wouldn't share are his true feelings and his dark impulsivities since he doesn't want to scare you.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

> Just by being by Mikey's side you are a positive influence on him. It will take a long time but little by little he tries to open up about his true feelings and tries to rely on you more. Everytime you sense he's distancing himself, you would have to drag him back and knock some sense into him.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

> Mikey is definitely the type to get jealous easily and his childish tendencies tend to come out. If he sees you getting too friendly with someone he'll keep staring until he's had enough and say "(Y/N) is mine, hmph!" With a cute pout on his face. Be sure to coddle him afterwards because he might give you the silent treatment.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

> Mikey has no experience whatsoever. He has no idea how kisses work. It'll be super rare to get a kiss from Mikey since he's not used to being affectionate. If you're lucky he'll peck you on your cheek or kiss your hands occasionally. Your first kiss with him wasn't planned. Both of you were alone and you were just admiring him as he talked and pressed a light kiss on his lips. He was instantly shocked by what you did as he traces over his lips with his fingers but inside he's feeling all warm. He never knew kisses from you would have this kind of affect on him.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

> It took long time for Mikey to realize that what he felt towards you was more than just friendship. He confessed this to Draken and he replied "huh, obviously you like them you idiot. Hurry up and go tell them." In which Mikey replies by telling Draken to do the same for Emma. It happened when he came to pick you up from school one day on his motorcycle and brought you to the riverside. "I finally understand what I feel, (Y/N). I like you... You don't have to give me an answer right away, I'll wait however long it takes..."

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

> Another hard topic to answer. When Mikey fell for you he fell hard. As much as he wants to spend the rest of his life in peace with you, it won't happen. That is until he goes through "certain changes" and let's say he did. You'll be riding with him on his motorcycle on Christmas until he stops at a certain place. He'll start talking about his past and the times you've spent together. Then talking about how much he appreciates you and thanks you then pops the question. The wedding will be small and privately held with only people close to him and you are invited.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

> It is known that Mikey gives nicknames to those who are close to him. It depends on what your first name is. He'll most likely you use the first syllable of your name plus -chin, -cchi or -chy. Only when he's serious will he use your real name.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

> Honestly, it can be really hard to tell unless you really observe Mikey. You would notice he stares at you longer, or everytime your name pops up in a conversation he's interested. Draken is definitely the first the notice this change in Mikey and teases him for it, while Mikey denys it. The others will slowly start to notice this too. Especially, when he bought an extra taiyaki and gave it to you. Takemichy's jaw dropped at the scene.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

> Mikey won't be announcing to everyone that he has an s/o. However, if someone asks he'll answer honestly. I wouldn't use the word "brag" but he will say nice about you to others. For Mikey, intimate gestures such as kissing are only between the two of you. If someone catches the both of you, Mikey wouldn't be pleased.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

> You wouldn't have to worry about anyone trying to flirt with you or trying to hurt you not when Mikey's around. Mikey cares deeply about you and would give his life to protect you. You wouldn't have to worry about other people trying to flirt with Mikey either since you already have his heart, he'll simple brush them off. He's loyal.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

> As I have mentioned earlier, Mikey has no experience with relationships. You would have to teach him things. Still there will be moments that might seem simple to others but to you, you know it's a way Mikey shows his love for you. For example, draping his jacket over your shoulders or buying an extra snack so you could have some too. If he's not busy with Toman matters, he would want to spend his time with you.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

> Mikey would genuinely support your dreams and passions, telling you to never give up on them. He believes in you with his whole heart, and he knows you would be able to make your goals come true.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

> He would like to try things he never experienced before with you, like taking pictures at the photo booth or going shopping for matching keychains. That being said, what Mikey likes the most is the constant reassurance that you're here for him. Routines like going riding on his motorcycle or just talking with you, it what he like most. He's scared that one day you'd leave him so these mundane routines assures him.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

> You would think Mikey is the forgetful type but he actually pays attention to things. He'll notice you eyeing a certain item in a store or if you're lying to him. He genuinely cares about you and would like to know everything about you, even the shameful parts. Mikey has a hard time with emotions, he may not fully understand your troubles but he'll assure you that he'll be there for you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

> For Mikey to actually want to establish a relationship with someone. It means he sees you as an important person in his life. However, certain things would have to come before you such as his family and Toman. It is something you would have to understand when dating Mikey.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

> Whenever he looks like he's spacing off during Toman meetings while he is paying attention to what's happening his mind can't help but wander towards you. About what you're currently doing or if you're at home safely. Before he starts the engine of his bike, or has nothing to do he fiddles with the keychain on his keys. It's the matching keychain you both have.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

> Mikey is not known to be the most showy when it comes to showing his affections. It's the little things he does for only you, that shows how much he cares about you. Mikey secretly likes the affection you give him even if he denies it. It surprises him everytime you hug him or kiss him but he never stops you or tells you to stop. Just don't do it in front of Toman. Even if he doesn't want to, cuddle him as the big spoon and it'll make him really happy. Since he's so used to keeping a strong facade, cuddling with you gives him the impression that with you maybe he doesn't have to do that.

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

> Mikey will still act as the strong charismatic leader of Toman, where nothing fazes him. He won't outwardly show that he misses you but you can tell by the way he fiddles with his matching keychain or stares off into the distance that he misses you. He might even unconsciously blurt a quiet "I miss (Y/N)...."

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

> Mikey is willing to give his life away to protect you. Just you being with him is dangerous enough who knows who might be out to get him and easiest way they can do that is by getting you. If your safely is at risk even he likes you he would have to break up with you, keep you away from the danger. Because he utmostly cares about your well being and if anything happens to you, it will destroy him.

#sano manjiro #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo manji gang #tokyo manji revengers #skipps writes

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reflectismo · 2 years

Text

“Linda McCartney: Silly Love Songs” by Barbara Charone for Sounds (April 1976) - Excerpt

"When the Beatles finally broke up and Paul was saying 'when the curtain opens and you're up there it's great'. He wasn't saying let's make a record. He just wanted a friend with him. It wasn't like 'hey you've got great talent, I'll put you onstage.'

During the final Beatle years, McCartney yearned to return to the stage, missing the excitement of live performances and audience contact. From the beginning, Wings were destined to be a permanent recording band.

"The whole point of Wings was to play onstage. We wouldn't have got a group together just to record. Paul's whole thing is the road. Even with the Beatles, even before Abbey Road Paul was saying to me 'I've just got to have a sing, just get a few people together and go on the road.'

"So he went in one day when all this fighting was going on and said to John, 'let's go on the road and do some unannounced gigs.' John thought he was daft. But," Linda is quick to shift tones, eager to portray a clear picture, "I'm not saying that Paul is an angel either.

"If they had talked the thing out they would have seen what they thought about Paul wasn't true and what he thought about them wasn't true. It simply wasn't the three of them against Paul. It was four people who had to live. There were just too many personality problems."

Public opinion blamed McCartney for breaking up the Beatles which no doubt hurt his pride and damaged his confidence. Stranded without a band the only other alternative was to make records.

"Paul's biggest problem will be living down all that 'Paul's not heavy enough, Lennon's the heavy one'. Listen folks," Linda says in an understandably passionate defence. "Paul is a very heavy rock 'n' roller. I remember when I first met him I'd say 'you haven't got enough character in your face'. But I'll tell you, there's so much behind him that people don't see."

Much of the problem however, was McCartney's own fault. His heavier, rockier profile was obscured on the first three Wings albums. Not until McCartney rallied with his stongest solo effort Band On The Run did cynics hear the kind of rhythmic, harmonic and cleverly arranged album they had always been expected from an ex-Beatle.

Ram was an excellent stepping stone towards strengthening McCartney's artistic reputation which seemed to be fading into a muddy sea of one line melodies and snatches of musical inspiration. What the general populus expected of Paul McCartney became more prominent. Ram was a deserving shot of confidence.

"But Ram was made during that period when everyone was very negative towards Paul," Linda says slightly defensive. She begins mumbling something about John Lennon but quickly stops herself in mid-sentence. Both Paul and Linda seem hesitant to stimulate any renewed fighting now that peace had been established.

"At first people don't want you to change," Linda reflected. "People are slow to change. Look at all that garbage John and Yoko had thrown at them and now people are happy that they're back together. People take so long to accept something. I can accept criticism of Wings but their vision of Wings is so limited. The thing has to grow."

#Linda McCartney #Paul McCartney #Wings #John Lennon #The Beatles #1976 #Barbara Charone #(Very interesting viewpoint from Linda)#(“If they had talked the thing out…”)#(Linda getting to the crux of the matter)#(“There’s so much behind him that people don’t see”)#(“Not saying Paul is an angel either”)#(Yup. Dare I say that in the end they were all just…human?)#(With all the complexities that come with it)

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apixrl · 3 years

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SINCERELY, YOURS.

hanta sero x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.0k

song: sincerely, yours // nohidea

note(s): i just think that he'd be the perfect hubby tbh (EDIT: I'M SO DUMB I POSTED W/O TAGS PFAHAHHA)

Hanta finally managed to force open the door to the log cabin that had long been awaiting your arrival, the wooden structure welcoming the approaching warmth and laughter of the newly wedded couple. The ravenette smirked joyously and let out a triumphant 'hoorah', your laughter only adding to the display of ego on his face.

"And you said I'd drop you," Hanta mocked your earlier words, looking down at you with that very same smirk. If not for your arms wrapped around his neck and entire weight held in his arms, you most likely would have pushed his face away by the cheek. To avoid that shit-eating, joking smirk that rarely left his dumb and lovable face. The face you fell for so undoubtedly swift and heavy.

"I didn't say you would I said you may drop me," Was your response. "It's not every day we walk through so much snow!"

"Hush now, that was nothing to me," Hanta lifted the arm that supported your back, planting his lips on your forehead in a sweet welcoming kiss. Your lips curled in approval, accepting the gesture as Hanta used his foot to close the door behind you both, driving away the cold breeze from outside as warmth replaced it. "Now would you look at this place!"

Heeding Hanta's words, your eyes averted from his addicting gaze to the bonnie log cabin interior set out before you two. From left to right the cabin maintained an earthy theme, consistent in wooden textures excluding that of the supple beige sofas in the centre of the room. They were accompanied with ripening red cushions, as well as a few other pieces of furniture containing the same colour to maintain an advertising aesthetic no doubt. Lengthy beams stretched from one end of the walls to the other, set out in rows. The deepest wall (opposite to the entrance) was made mostly out of glass and onlooking a gorgeous snowy forest scene, small golden lights lit up outside to only add to the aura already presented. Built-up by red bricks and extending up toward the ceiling was a great open fireplace, already sparked alight and sensing a contrasting warmth to the bitter cold outdoors. In the corner of the room were a set of stairs most likely directing themselves off to the bedroom, though you and Hanta were so taken by the bottom floor's interior neither of you even processed there were more rooms to see.

"Wow... this place is gorgeous!" You said through a whisper, face lighting up at the sight. Never had you thought a place could be so beautifully arranged and so beautiful in general, and the two of you had this place to yourselves for an entire two weeks... it made you feel like the luckiest person alive! That you were really, as you'd just tied the knot the love of your life and were starting an entirely new journey with him. From the very moment you'd both uttered 'I do' in front of all your friends and family - the paths you lead became one that you would waltz down together.

"So you like it then?" Hanta asked, ebony eyes trailing away from the open fire and down to your own E/C irises. His smirk slowly transitioned to an endearing grin upon seeing your face of wonder, heart skipping a beat as your gaze met his and your expression mirrored.

"Of course! It's just how I imagined it - even more stunning than the pictures online," Your hand grazed Hanta's gloved one, though the barricade of wool and cotton did nothing to prevent the love and desire sent through the tips of your fingers. The ravenette admired your beauty in that lingering stare shared between you, exhaling a content sigh. You never failed to astound him with your beauty, the way your eyes glowed whenever you looked at him. How your hair fell perfectly into place no matter the circumstance (even on your worst of hair days you somehow managed to make it work). Not to mention your smile and laugh - those specific factors alone making Hanta fall for you over and over and exceeding limits of love and admiration he didn't even think he possessed.

Just before Hanta was to fall into daydream you shook him out his thoughts, the shifting of weight in his arms struck him to shake out of it, realising that you were attempting to shuffle out his arms in order to stand. So he let you down, grip loosening and reluctantly allowing you to step away.

"I'm glad," He quickly uttered, his hand lifting to his head to remove the woolly hat resting there. Then he proceeded to unbutton his winter coat as did you, the pair of you making light work of it due to the excitement of exploring your temporary home.

"So our suitcases are already here?" You asked Hanta, straightening out your knitted turtleneck jumper which was a soft pink shade. Usually something you wouldn't wear, but it was well-suited for the weather and didn't irritate your skin. So you took advantage of the purchase. From your left Hanta hummed softly, turning towards you once he was done hanging his coat on the rack. He too had a turtleneck on, but his donned a collect of abstract patterns and stuck to more neutral colours than yours.

"Yep, they should be upstairs," Hanta replied, running a hand through his hair as he looked over at you. He shifted over to your side, hugging you from behind with a mischievous chuckle. "But we can unpack tomorrow,"

"I like the idea of that, I just wanna snuggle," You responded with a giggle, leaning back into your husband's hold. After a few seconds Hanta stepped forwards, forcing your feet to follow suit. The ravenette guided you both to the nearest sofa, where he messily fell back against the ruby red cushions and you alongside him.

"That's because you procrastinate more than you've ever been willing to admit," Hanta turned you over so you sat atop his middle, hands settled on your hips like they were structured to hold them. There was a smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes at his last comment.

"I procrastinate because you distract me," You corrected, poking his chest with a prominent finger.

"Ah well, what can I say? I'm just that pretty aren't I?" He replied, laughing joyously. You couldn't help but echo with your own form of a chuckle, shaking your head as the smile on your face sent Hanta all kinds of elated emotions through his veins.

"You're not wrong there, Tiger," You grinned ear to ear, staring lovingly in his direction. Words weren't enough to express how much you loved him, your mind struggling to form sentences most of the time with just how much he took your breath away. In truth, you would have allowed yourself to remain gazing into Hanta's eyes the entire night. But you were due to catch sight of an envelope on the coffee table next to you both, drawing your attention away from him as fast as it came. The item too out of the ordinary to ignore. Peculiarly you leaned over to grab it, tilting your head at the item.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," Was your answer. Your fingers proceeded to slit open the top, discovering a smaller, folded piece of paper inside. Curiously you opened it up, voice filling the room as you discovered golden ink was printed on one side and intended to read it out.

" Dear Mr and Mrs Sero,

We are beyond pleased that you chose to stay with us for your honeymoon. Have a wonderful and splendid time at the start of your journey together and we wish you nothing but happiness and joy during your stay.

Kindest regards,

[resort/name] "

"Mr and Mrs Sero," Hanta repeated with a thoughtful stare to the wooden beams above. "I'm still not used to hearing that and we've already been married a week," A smile formed on his lips, releasing a chuckle from the depths of his chest. Almost like he couldn't believe the words he had just uttered. Tilting your head, you pondered on what he meant.

"How do you mean?" You didn't receive an answer straight away, the man you called your husband gently sighed, almost with the case of the lovesick. Somewhere during the exhale Hanta's eyes fell from the beamed ceiling and onto you, gratitude threaded in his expression as he stared at you.

"I just don't know how I got so lucky to marry someone like you," His hand extended to cup your cheek, cradling the slightly chilled part of your face (thanks to the cold air and wind from outside) as his thumb stroked the surface of your skin. Your eyes widened, all too used to the gesture but rarely ever prepared for it whenever Hanta committed to it. You smiled, nuzzling into his warm hold as your eyes closed.

"Me too," You hummed, sighing out yourself as your heart fluttered higher and higher with each passing second. A short silence ensued, ending as you abruptly let out a little laugh. It caught Hanta's attention, his head cosying into the cushion behind him as his brows raised.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the night you proposed. That's all," Another laugh escaped, humour striking you as you recalled how it had played out. From the manner your lover rolled his eyes, he clearly still hadn't emotionally recovered from it.

"That stupid fire pit," He groaned, eyes closing in annoyance. "I can't believe I let it ruin the moment,"

"I don't think that was the fire's intention, Hants,"

Despite being blatantly confident and bold, when it came to more... intimacy-related things, Hanta Sero's expertise dwindled dangerously. It had taken him months of knowing you to actually ask you out on a date, and when you finally got together? Well, it took him four years before he began to think about popping the question - three months more to actually pop it. Whilst you did say yes once he got down on one knee on the balcony of your holiday home for your fourth anniversary together, the events that proceeded after were what truly traumatised the poor ravenette.

Your holiday was spent somewhere in the Caribbean at a beachside residence that locals rented out for tourists. You and Hanta had always been big on travelling, hence your honeymoon location being such an unconventional place. Or as far as you knew, you didn't have an exact number on how many honeymoons were spent in remote mountain ranges surrounded by blustering winds and snow. It was a nice change of pace to the intense heats nearer the Equator.

During that vacation in particular though, that was the year Hanta finally decided to propose. After a long day on the beach, swimming in the ocean and feeling the sand between your toes as evening approached, you watched the sunset on the balcony of the second floor, neighbouring your bedroom. To set the mood the firepit in the centre had been lit, creating a stunning orange glow in Hanta's eyes as he held you close to his chest.

You noticed he was quite fidgety in his seat, wondering what was wrong with your lover as he gripped his knee tight. Like he was uncomfortable or nervous. Like he needed to get something off of his chest. It was only when you pointed out your concern and his odd behaviour that Hanta managed to shift his stance. Moving from his stiff position to wobbling on one knee, then came the heartfelt speech that gave you a sense of where he was going. A subtle reach into his pocket and before you knew it, you were shouting yes into the night sky and your eyes foggy with tears of complete and utter joy.

Hanta placed the ring on your finger, the realisation hitting him at that moment that you and he were engaged. His excitement got the better of him, the male sweeping you in his arms and swinging you around as he babbled sweet nothings into your ear. The speed wavered his balance, his leg knocking into the table holding a bottle of wine he had ordered specifically for the occasion. Much to both of your bad luck, it all collapsed against the firepit and tipped it over - and one can only imagine what happened next. A rather chaotic ruckus erupted between you as Hanta grabbed you by the waist and flung you both out of the building via the balcony to ensure your safety. Then he 'thwipped' straight back up to the fire and frantically searched for the fire extinguisher to put it out, all whilst you sat on the sandy ground outside, frozen to how drastically the mood had changed.

Luckily the fire didn't spread too far. If not for Hanta's efficiency in dealing with it upfront, it could have spread to the bedroom and the rest of the house. It did not, however, the most damage being the balcony sofas that were scorched no thanks to their wooden frame and white cushioning.

Despite having just been engaged, there wasn't much you and Hanta could do to celebrate. So the night ended with you and he falling to slumber in the early hours of the morning, too exhausted after dealing with the owners' wrath after the slight mishap of nearly setting their building ablaze.

"At least you didn't burn the entire house down," You tried after a few seconds of quiet, earning a scoff on Hanta's part as he ran a hand through his hair.

"It felt like it when I called the owner's to tell them what happened," Hanta answered, softly frowning at the shrieking yells he heard during that call ringing their way through his mind again. Long after he'd shut them out based on the humiliation of being on the receiving end. You giggled, recalling how you were able to hear them despite the phone not being on speaker.

"I'm surprised they let us stay for the rest of the week,"

"That's because I paid the money for the damage caused within six hours of them demanding it," Hanta reminded you, dragging his hands down his face as he groaned out. Probably expelling his inner cringe at his foolishness that night. "Times like that make me relieved I'm a top ten pro, helps out with emergencies a great fucking deal,"

"Are you sure that didn't play any part in their generosity? That you're a top ten pro?"

"No way," He said and sat up to meet your height, hands looping to cradle the small of your back. He held back continuing to briefly peck you on the lips. "The bill they gave me was the complete opposite of generous,"

"How much was it again?" You asked, memory not serving you the answer. The ebony-haired male leaned forwards to kiss you again before he moved his lips up to your ear. His voice became a whisper, telling the sum in Yen which made your eyes widen in astonishment.

"Wow," Was your instinctive reply, Hanta scoffing a laugh in agreement based on your tone of surprise. It was there he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling through his nose to catch a whiff of your scent. The aroma acting as a sedative to wipe the memory from his mind permanently. All he wished to remember of that night was the way your face lit up as he asked you to take his hand in marriage. How your tears formed and how your lips uttered the words he had oh, so desperately wanted to hear after months and months of worry of being rejected.

And look at you both now; husband and wife and on your honeymoon. Holding each other as close as close can be with no doubt or hesitancy in your minds at all. Why he had worried so much was something he would never be able to figure out. As looking back, all of it felt like the easiest thing he had ever had to do.

Due to that, Hanta smiled into your neck. The change could have been missed, but you were far too attentive to not notice. The feeling of his cheeks shaping his smile made you smile as well, your arms wrapping around Hanta's neck in a desperate need to pull him closer. Your fingers ghosted the back of his neck, tickling the hairs that attached with care like no other. You rested your chin on his head, eyes closed gently in comfort. In response, Hanta hummed lowly, hands starting to rub up and down your back like he was giving you a massage.

Silence passed, the two of you simply enjoying the other's company and the intimate moment you had welded together. The proximity created a warmth that could fight any cold, the fireplace behind you both unneeded to fight the swirling snow outside. Your eyes peaked open as the faint crackle of the fire nearby caught your attention. You watched the flames dance for a second or so before you plucked up the confidence to speak.

"Just... let's not set fire to this place. Alright?" You mused, holding your breath as you waited for Hanta's response. Luckily he didn't dismiss it, actually finding the comment quite funny. He voiced a blurt of a laugh, head shaking as much as he could make it whilst it buried into the depths of your neck. Hanta's mouth opened to make his reply, quickly hushing up again to return to the peaceful silence of before, not at all ready to let it go just yet.

"Agreed,"

#bnha x reader #x reader #fluff #mha x reader #anime x reader #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #hanta sero x you #hanta sero x y/n #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero #sero x reader #bnha sero hanta #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #sero fluff #hanta sero fluff

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shadow-night · 3 years

Text

Bounty Hunter in the Shadows Chapter 1

More chapters here on Ao3.

Story Tags: Erasermic, Friends to Lovers, young Aizawa Shouta, young Yamada Hizashi, Slow Burn, Slice of Life, Hurt/ Comfort, Angst and Feels, Comedy, Fluff, mental breakdown, PTSD, flashbacks, self-medication, drug use, homelessness, homeless Aizawa Shouta, unhealthy coping mechanisms, survivor guilt, cats, growing gp, character study, character development, recovery

Chapter 1: Aizawa and Yamada

Finally graduation day arrived. Aizawa held his UA high school diploma in his hands. This was a joyous occasion – or at least it should be. He should feel proud, which he did to an extent. Aizawa could not help but find the entire event nostalgic before it was even over.

He was a little proud he managed to pull through and finished school, graduating from the most famous hero school in Japan no less, but he also felt a deeply routed guilt. Yamada was joking and laughing with friends. Everyone was loud and happy, yet someone was missing.

Yamada tore Aizawa from his thoughts as he excitedly called out to him. Aizawa put on a teasing smile, silencing him with a quirk and vanished. It was meant as a joke but it also was great to escape his classmates.

Aizawa rolled his eyes at the endless amounts of texts Yamada sent him. He could practically hear the disappointed yelling while reading about how he had missed all the group photos. He didn't even bother to listen to the voice messages or pick his phone up when it rang. Aizawa went home and relaxed on his bed, knowing his foster parents wouldn't get home until later. He wondered what would happen if he left right this moment without another word to anyone. His suitcase was already packed.

A new message lit up his phone's home screen. Aizawa reached for the device, only now bothering to look at the chat.

Yamada:

We're all going out to eat tonight. Will you come?

Aizawa:

No. I promised them dinner.

It was true. He had promised his foster parents a ‘goodbye dinner’ before moving out. It was the reason why he didn't leave right this afternoon. They were decent people and were kind enough to give him space and not pressure him into spending more time together, so when they asked if he would have dinner with them tonight he couldn't say no.

Yamada:

But you're leaving tomorrow morning, right?! When will we see each other again??

That was a good point. It still hadn't quite sunken in that they would not be back at school again soon. They wouldn't just leave school for a weekend or a holiday, but forever. Aizawa almost regretted not staying longer at school now, though he also knew that it wasn't his thing. Seeing everyone excited for the future and sad they would part would have been a little too much. He was happier alone in his bedroom.

Yamada:

Can I come over?

Aizawa:

What about dinner?

Yamada:

We meet later. I'll come over.

Well. Now that that was decided all there was left to do was to wait for the energetic blonde. Wherever Yamada had been, he couldn't have been too far from his home. He was out of breath when, ten minutes later, he rang the doorbell non stop until the door was opened for him.

"Come on in." Aizawa said and they headed over to the brunet's room, where they sat down on the bed. At least Aizawa sat down. Yamada flopped onto the mattress still trying to catch his breath.

"You could have walked here." Aizawa noted.

"Yeah, but I didn't want to miss any more time! Who knows when we'll see each other again!" Yamada said.

"You're the one who wanted to work in America." Aizawa reminded him.

"I knoooow." Yamada whined, but then a grin returned to his face. "But I'm sure it's gonna be awesome!" he said determinedly.

"Just don't start talking to me in English all the time." Aizawa said and realized that he really would miss Yamada.

During their first year at U.A. he did not get particularly close with anyone but Shirakumo and Yamada. In their second year Aizawa had allowed himself to befriend Kayama a little. The cat Aizawa and Shirakumo found and gave to her had helped a lot in terms of befriending the girl who was a grade ahead of them.

After Shirakumo's death Aizawa made sure it stayed that way and distanced himself from others. He couldn't bear the thought of getting close to someone again only to loose them later. He looked at Yamada who lay on his back next to him on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Aizawa didn't want to think about how he would react if anything happened to the blonde.

"What train will you take tomorrow morning?" Yamada suddenly asked.

"Why? Don't tell me you want to meet me at the station." Aizawas tone was flat and seemingly uninterested.

"Ehhhh? Why not?!"

"You'll be hung-over." Aizawa stated.

"What? You really think us aspiring pro heroes will succumb to underage drinking?!" Yamada called out in mock surprise as if they hadn't- together in fact- gotten drunk before. Then he turned more serious. "I'd still come if you told me what time the train left." Yamada claimed.

"At 8:00 in the morning? Are you sure?" Aizawa said, a small smirk ghosting on his lips.

"Damn. That's early. Why are you torturing yourself like that?" Yamada asked, knowing how much Aizawa hated getting up early himself. Though, to be fair Aizawa seemed unhappy about getting up at any time. Insomnia was a real pain in the ass.

"I'll still come." Yamada said.

Aizawa just gave a low hum.

"You don't believe me! You'll see. I'll be there!" Yamada bumped his fist into Aizawa's shoulder.

"I didn't say anything." Aizawa said, raising his hands, showing his palms.

"Anyways." Yamada huffed. "You'll have to send me pictures of your apartment when you get there, alright."

"It's shitty. Nothing worth showing off." Aizawa protested.

"I don't care. I just want to see pictures."

"I'll send you pictures of the cockroaches I'll room with." Aizawa teased.

"Please don't!" Yamada looked horrified.

"You get those or nothing." Aizawa shrugged. This was nice. It was easy banter, just the two of them, nothing too overwhelming.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Yamada's eyes landing on Aizawa's packed suitcase.

Yamada had been surprised when Aizawa told him he would leave Musutafu the day after their graduation. He himself would travel to the US soon after the school year ended, but his flight went a week after graduation, giving him enough time to say goodbye to classmates and family. Well, Aizawa could count the friends he had on two fingers and he also did not have much family. Yamada did not know Aizawa’s host family particularly well but the few times he met them they seemed nice. Yamada could not help but wonder if Aizawa left so soon because he felt uncomfortable around them or if it had to do with Aizawa's general attitude and mood ever since their work study ended in their second year.

Yamada had a great support system at home but it was difficult mourning their dead friend himself and helping Aizawa at the same time. Shirakumo's death hit them both hard, though Aizawa definitely had a less healthy way of coping and far less support or people who didn't offer the support he needed which ended in him changing host families a month after their work study. It had been painful to watch Aizawa train in the Gym to the point he was so exhausted he fell asleep in their classes. Yamada had done his best to be there and watch Aizawa as often as he could, sometimes even training with him. It made them grow closer over time.

"You've got to take care of yourself." Yamada broke the silence.

Aizawa frowned, then looked away from the blonde. "You too."

"Hey, you missed out on all the pictures we took, let's take some now!" Yamada changed the subject. They wouldn't see each other in quite a while so they shouldn't just mop around. Aizawa was not impressed by the idea, but when Yamada sat up on the bed and sat right next to him he tilted his head towards the blonde as he held up his phone. Within minutes Yamada's camera roll filled up with new pictures of them both.

"You should leave soon, if you don't want to be late." Aizawa said eventually as he took notice of the time.

"I guess." Yamada said and sat up on the bed. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, alright?" He reminded Aizawa.

"Don't trouble yourself. It will be fine if you don't." He said.

The door fell shut and Aizawa stood alone in the quiet house. Dinner with his foster parents also was a quiet affair. He appreciated that. They did not try to get him to talk more than usual or try to talk him out of things last minute. They asked if he finished packing and if he still needed something, as if anything was worth the trouble of going out this late at night. There were plenty of stores with the same products where he moved. He let them know he had everything he needed and stayed seated at the table after dinner. They drank tea and let it sink in that things would be different from now on.

The night seemed to drag on forever and Aizawa barely slept. He got up early, even earlier than he had to, so he could make breakfast for everyone. He made his host parents favorite tea, put six slices of bread in the toaster oven and got out a pot to make miso soup. He didn't have to cook but even he could make something as simple as miso soup with tofu and seaweed. He set out the jam for the bread and got out some plates when his host parents came out.

Aizawa checked his phone when he got his suitcase after breakfast. No new messages showed up. The blonde sent him a few photos during the night, so Aizawa knew his classmates drank alcohol and stayed up until the early morning hours. He tried to ignore the slight pang in his chest. It was good Yamada had fun last night. He should rest now. They could talk over the phone later, he told himself pocketing his phone. He looked around the room one final time. It was clean and he already pulled the sheets off and put them into the washing machine.

"Remember you can call us anytime." His host mother told him as they stood in the entrance. Aizawa gave a slight nod to signal he heard her as he tied his shoes.

"Don't hesitate to ask for help." Her husband added.

"Thank you. For everything." Aizawa said, looking them in the eyes. He even gave both a hug before he stepped outside and pulled his suitcase to the station.

When Aizawa arrived at the nearest tram station, he realized he gave Yamada the time his other train would leave from the bigger train station. So even if the blonde intended to come he might have thought of the wrong place. He checked his phone but no new notifications showed up. Aizawa pocketed his phone as the tram came to a stop. The small tram was packed with people going to work and Aizawa shuffled to the door, pulling his suitcase as close as possible. He gave an apologetic nod to an older lady close to him. Aizawa focused his eyes outside the window looking at the familiar houses and stores passing by.

Finally the tram reached the central station. He arrived with some time to spare and checked his phone while he stood waiting at the platform. He felt a little forgotten but tried his best to push the feeling aside. He told Yamada not to worry about coming, so it wasn't fair to be mad at him for not showing up.

He could hear his train enter the station and then, even louder than the arriving train his name. "Aizawaaaaaaa!" He knew that voice.

Aizawa turned around to the direction the call had come from and saw Yamada running into the station. Several people held their ears and stared at the blond in irritation. He would have to get to this platform, but the train just arrived so there was enough time. Aizawa couldn't help but smile.

When Yamada finally came running down the stairs he looked like he would throw up any second. "The things I do for you." he huffed out of breath when he came to a stop in front of Aizawa.

"I told you, you didn't have to come." Aizawa said, but his smile gave him away.

"Please just tell me you are happy to see me so that it was worth coming." Yamada begged. He wore a t-shirt with an unidentifiable stain on it and one of his shoelaces was open. He was very pale and his unstyled hair hung in his face.

"Yeah. I'm happy." Aizawa gave in. "Thank's for coming." He said just as Yamada stepped away from him and threw up over the other side of the platform where no train was.

"Are you alright?" Aizawa asked, holding the other's hair back. Other people were stared more or less subtly.

"Ugh..." Yamada groaned. Aizawa glanced at the clock, "Wait here. I'll be right back." He said and jogged to a vending machine to get some water.

"Thank's." Yamada said after he washed his mouth out and took a sip. "Sorry about that." He said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Do you need money for a taxi back?" Aizawa asked.

"No, no! It's fine. Keep your money! I still have some." Yamada said. He pulled his walled out in demonstration. He knew Aizawa did not have much saved up and he doubted he suddenly accepted more from his host family.

"If you're sure." Aizawa said.

"Actually, let me pay you back for this." Yamada held up the bottle Aizawa just got him.

"It's just water." Aizawa shook his head.

"Alright. Thanks." Yamada put his wallet away again. They stood in silence for a moment after that.

"Well...-" Yamada tried to break the silence.

"I have to get on the train soon." Aizawa said at the same time.

"Ah...right. Well...I'll hear from you soon right? Send pictures!"

"Of roaches. Sure." Aizawa couldn't help but tease with a smirk.

"I got up and came all the way here and this is how you thank me?!" Yamada said so loud he winced himself. He hadn't even spoken that loud but with his head already pounding every decibel felt like too much.

"We'll see." Aizawa said and reached for his suitcase. Should he give Yamada a hug? His arms twitched, though he kept them at his side. "Get some rest." he said, taking a step back.

"You too!" Yamada nodded, wincing once more at his own volume.

"Thank's for coming." Aizawa said, standing in the train's doorway. "Bye."

"Bye." Yamada said a little quieter now, but with a smile on his face while he waved. The blonde was always so positive and energetic. It was nice. Aizawa waved as the door closed, then moved to look for his seat.

It was a window seat and he waved once more once he sat down. Yamada waved with two arms as the train began to move.

This was it.

Aizawa's chest felt tight as the train drove out of Musutafu. So many memories were connected to the city. Good, as well as bad. He gulped down the lump that formed in his throat and pressed his shirt's sleeve against his eyes. A new chapter of his life started with his move to Naruhata. There was no turning back now.

More chapters of Bounty Hunter in the Shadows on Ao3 :)

#erasermic #erasermic fanfic #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shouta #present mic #aizawa + yamada #maizawa #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic

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tamagochiie · 3 years

Text

--would you be so kind [tsukishima kei]

genre: fluff/slight angst

pairing: tsukishima kei x reader

song: would you be so kind by dodie

synopsis: you’ve fallen for quite a boy and what’s the best way to confess to someone if not during the school festival?

wc: 2.37k

a/n: truth be told, i was inspired to write this when i was listening to dodie, and i tried to somehow tie the lyrics in with the story, but i kinda lost my flow in between, but the story still works!

"This might seem strange..." You should've known better than to reach out to Yamaguchi and Yachi the moment those words left his lips. You should've cut him off, stopped him before he could finish the thought and left, but you didn't. You had sat there with your attention wrapped around Yamaguchi's finger as he conceptualized your perfect confession.

I should've gone to someone else, you thought. But you didn't have many friends and the ones you did have had no experience with love. You were lucky enough to have been friends with the ultimate Karasuno High duo canonically known to the student body as: YamaYachi.

Though, you weren't entirely sure if you could even deem yourself lucky.

They were quite meddlesome since you've come to know them and let them into your life. Though for someone as quiet and kept together as you, their presence helped spice up it every now and then. Like when they volunteered you to be the new volleyball manager without your consent, or when they had found out your heart had unwillingly fallen for Karasuno's notorious jackass, Tsukishima Kei, and butt in.

They would crack a wedge in every small opening they found to get you two together and chucked you right through it. During practice, when it came to water breaks, they'd make sure Tsukki wouldn't be able to get his water bottle, forcing him to go to you to ask for it. Whenever they heard Tsukki wanted to stay behind to practice, without your consent, they'd volunteer you. When it came to walking home, oh, they'd make sure you were always by his side while they followed behind.

Though it had been extremely uncomfortable and embarrassing, a friendship did blossom. Eventually, Yachi and Yamaguchi no longer needed to manipulate the forces of nature, and Tsukki would just come looking for you on his own.

So here you were, determination shaking in your bones as you strode down the crowded corridor of your high school, going against the current as you ignored your friends' attempts to catch your attention. You took deep breaths to calm the persistent thumping of your heart and to the ease the miniatured yous dashing around in circles in your mind.

If it had been up to you, your confession would've been as toned down and discreet as you: sticking a note in Tsukki's locker and making a run for it. But your high school life had fallen into the hands of two people who shared the same brain cell, so of course, go big or go home.

At least that's what Yamaguchi had said.

He made it a point that it was their final year while you were still struggling in your second year. "If you're gonna tell someone you like them, you might as well do it facing them head on, right?"

As much as you hated it, he was right. But you shook the pompous image of Yamaguchi as you drew near your meeting place. You met Yachi at the corner away from everyone else. Her face softened when she saw the nervousness in your eyes and greets you with a hug."How are you lungs?"

"They're a bit in pain." You answered honestly, breaths shaky. "This so dumb, I don't think I can do this."

"If I could swap chests with you today, I would." She joked as an attempt to ease you; it was her silly way of saying, "I'd trade the storm in your heart for the stillness in mine," and though her odd one-liners would help, it wasn't working. "You don't have to do the funny stuff Yams said—just go up to him and tell him. That's all you really need to do...They boys are just over there by the ramen booth,"

You leaned to the side to catch a good look at Tsukki, but what you find tightly gripped your heart and squeezed out the little confidence you had been mustering the entire day.

Another girl—a pretty girl—who was glued to him by the hip, laughing and twirling her hair. But what shocked you the most was the way Tsukki looked at her intently as she spoke, like he was making it a point to actually listen to whatever was coming out of her mouth.

Yachi caught the pain etched in your face and turned to see what the problem was, "Oh shit."

You didn't exactly know what came over you, but before you brain could match the tempo of the rest of your body, you called out his name and marched towards him. "Tsukishima Kei!"

Eyes dilated and looking down at you, he blinked at the sudden sight of you. His lips twitched in a smile as if he was happy to see you, but before he could address you or even say hello, you cut him off, unintentionally yelling, "I like you! I-I know you know that I like you, b-but that's not enough...So, i-if you would—Please go out with me! "

Time was such a fickle thing; because though it had only been a mere couple of seconds, it felt like you were stuck in a forever as the silence lingered between you, Tsukki, and everyone else that was within range to hear not only your confession, but your unexpectedly bold decision to ask him out as well.

Holy fucking shit, you thought. Though the silence was a loud and clear response, the rapid thumping of your heart was louder; and you couldn't stand the thought of staying there any longer. So before Tsukki would even manage to part his lips, you bolted out of there.

You ran to the pool side, far from where everyone else had gathered, where you were supposed to watch the fireworks with Tsukki if things had fallen into place like it was supposed to. You plopped yourself onto bleachers and sunk your head into your hands as you wept. You felt in incredibly silly.

"There's gotta be some butterflies somewhere," Yamaguchi had said this when you asked if it was a smart move for you to confessing to someone when you weren't even sure if there was even the smallest possibility the feelings were mutual. You should've taken it as a sign that you shouldn't have done.

But you did.

Oh, god, you did.

The image of Tsukki looking at you dumbfounded by your confession bled through and all you could do was sob harder into your hands. You remember the teams' faces, how shocked they were to have heard you say more than three words in one breath.

Oh, shit, the team. You were gonna have to quit being manager because there as no way in hell you could bounce back from the depths of your embarrassment and pretend as if you hadn't done that, especially in front of that pretty girl.

You wanted to hate Yamaguchi and Yachi, to place the blame on them, but they never said to screech out a confession let alone ask him out. So, this was undoubtedly on you. In the end, you were the idiot and you probably just lost a really decent friendship with someone you didn't even believe could be a good friend to begin with.

Regardless of Tsukki's reputation, he was quite kind, considerate, and attentive; if you were struggling with math or life in general he was willing to listen if he couldn't physically step in to help. Thinking about it, he always seemed to match his pacing with yours. If you were in a good mood, he'd banter with you, but if you weren't he'd tread lightly and do something to lift your spirits.

During lunch, he'd buy food in pairs; one for him and one for you because he when he asked why you didn't bring food every day, you told him you didn't have time to do it in the morning and you were too tired to bother when you came home. He'd lend you his jacket if you felt cold. He'd always wait for you after club if you had to pack up equipment or do extra tasks.

All these small gestures made your heart stand on its toes, but maybe you were bold to assume he saw your more than a friend.

Maybe you were bold to assume anything.

"I wanna die!" You groaned as you finally lifted your head from your hands, your eyes meeting the sky. The sun had fallen into the horizon and it was beginning to grow dark.

"Well, if you drop dead now, I won't be able to give you an answer." You jumped at the disembodied voice, gasping. You whipped your head to find Tsukki stepping out of the tall shadow of the pool shed. A sly smirk played across his lips with this hands hidden behind his back as he waltzed towards you.

You frowned at him, not really looking at him, but rather the buttons on his shirt. Too tired to run, you accepted your fate and swallowed the little pride you surprisingly had left and decided to face the rejection head on.

"H-How'd you find me?" Your voice was strained from the crying, so you cleared your throat and tried to relax. But when Tsukki took up the space beside you, you couldn't help but flinch back into stiffness.

"Yamaguchi said you might be here..."You scoffed as you brought your knees up to your chest, still avoiding looking at him. You looked ahead at the backdrop of the night, your ears trained on the subtle chirping of the crickets nearby. This would've been an ideal date moment, thought. The embarrassment once again creeped in and you shiver at what you had done moments ago.

Why was he here? Shouldn't he be with that girl? If he was here to reject you, he should hurry up rather than spend another moment wasting it on silence.

"Hey—"

"If you're going to reject me, please do so now." You deadpanned, cutting him off. There was a tingling, numbing feeling that began to build in the tips of your fingers, and would later spread throughout your whole body. "I'd rather you be straight to the point and reject me now. I'd rather you be cold and straight to the point rather than sit here and pick at your words, so please just hurry and reject me."

Tsukki scoffed at you, pushing the frame of his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. "Well, damn," He seethed. The way he said your name made your heart float, but your stomach drop. "What the hell do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"You asked me to go out with you, now you want me to reject you? Tell me, which is it?" You looked at him, finally meeting his gaze. He looked annoyed—no, he looked angry and you couldn't tell why.

"I—"

"Because I came here with an answer and a bag full of that spicy ramen you liked so much," He leaned in, lessening the gap between the two of you. Though you should've been wary at the close proximity, you couldn't help but have your thoughts wander over to the spicy ramen. Did he really bring me spicy ra—" You're so annoying! I listened when you told me what you had to say, so shut up and listen to me."

"Tsukki I—"

"Yes." He said, firmly. He swung his leg over to the other side of the bench so that he'd be completely facing you. Your cheeks began to burn and you swallowed thickly at the action. "Yes, I will go out with you. I want to go out with you. Damn it, I was supposed to ask you myself, but you had to go ahead of me. I didn't even know you had that in you."

"...I didn't..." You muttered.

"Then why'd you go and do it?"

"I—" You were at a loss for words; partly because Tsukki had just said yes, but also because of his bluntness and the aggression laced in the words that so easily left his lips. "I wanted you to know before you graduated...and it would've been a waste if I stuck a note in your locker instead of facing you head on..."

"So you decided to yell it at me?"

"I panicked!" You retorted.

"Why?"

"Well," You caught your bottom lip between your teeth before you could let yourself finish. You remembered the pretty girl, how close she leaned onto Tsukki, and the bitter taste that followed. "I—Cause...That..That girl you were with...I kinda just...I snapped, okay?"

"The girl?...Oh." It was as if you heard a clicking sound the moment Tsukki had realized what you meant. "That's my cousin... She'll be an incoming first year next year, so I wanted to show her around."

Oh, my god, shoot me in between the eyes.

You buried your face back into your hands as Tsukki began to laugh. You wanted to die right then and there, you prayed to the deity's to grace you with some sort of blessing and hit you with a rock—maybe even get set on fire by a firework. Anything.

"Wooow, I can't believe I like you." Tsukki sighed as he leaned back with his arms stretched behind him for support. You peaked at him through the spaces between your fingers, watched as he smirked to himself.

"W-Wait you really like me?"

"Duh!" He spat, rolling his eyes. "Did you think I said yes to you as a joke? I would've said yes to you in front of everyone back there if you hadn't taken off like that." You sat there as you pressed your legs closer to your chest, resting your chin on your knees completely dumbfounded. You had many questions, but not enough time to take up in the night to ask it all.

You sat up straight before completely twisting yourself to face him. He furrowed his brows at you, watching you shift in your seat as you tried to regain the confidence you had lost. You cleared you throat and met his eyes, leaning in. "Then, would you be so kind to fall in love with me?"

A playful smirk tugged the corner of Tsukki's lips, "I already have."

#tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukki imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukki x fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu #tsukki #tsukki x reader #tsukki fluff #mine #tsukishima imagines

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hannie-dul-set · 5 years

Text

(thirteen times) i love you— 03

— wherein y/n (a hopeless romantic) seems to fall in love with nearly ever guy she meets. so, she writes letters for them to compensate. these letters weren't meant for them to read, but what happens when they all end up receiving them?

03 // dumb excuse

word count: 2.3k

a/n: hello hello, part three is here!! lmk what you think hehheheh 👀✨

part 4 will be on July 16th, 8:00 PM EST!

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"Wait, so you're saying, Choi Seungcheol, aka Mr. Boy I Loved # 12, volunteered to help you retrieve your letters back?" Jiyeon asked in disbelief before taking a sip on her carton of milk.

"I know right! God, I don't know what went inside his head for him to decide to help me," you groaned, "What if he's just doing it to make fun of me?" With a whine, you buried your face in your arms.

"I doubt it," you heard Hyerim respond from behind you. Tray in hand, she makes her way towards Jiyeon and takes a seat beside her, "I think he's gonna expose you to his friends first, before making fun of you."

You threw your crumpled trash at her and shot her a glare, "I hate you," once again, you let yourself drown in your arms.

"I'm only joking," Hyerim laughs, "Besides, Seungcheol really is a nice guy. I'm sure he's genuine in trying to help you," you could hear Jiyeon hum in agreement.

You let out a huff, "I hope you're right— I have to meet up with him in a while," you took a glance at your watch— ten minutes until you and Seungcheol had to meet. He agreed to give you back your letter, and afterwards, the both of you were to formulate a plan on how to retrieve the rest.

"Uh oh, you better head out then," Jiyeon remarked, "I could see one of your ex obsessions breaching the perimeter," she nudged her head at one of the cafeteria tables. You slowly turned your head towards the direction, letting out a groan upon seeing your editor-in-chief, Jeon Wonwoo. If he won't confront me about the letter, then he's definitely gonna kill me for not heading to the clubroom yesterday— none of which I'd like to experience just yet.

You grabbed your bag in a rush and stood up, "I'll see you guys later," you bid your friends farewell before briskly walking towards the cafeteria's exit, hoping that the male didn't see you.

You let out a sigh of relief once you reached the hallway. You heard a buzz coming from you pocket and you assumed that was Seungcheol.

[seungcheol: hey im at the tables outside. where are you]

[you: im omw, had to deal with sth just now]

You finally arrived at your destination. You scanned the area for any sight of the male, and you managed to spot him sitting on one of the tables at the far end, tapping away on his phone.

[you: im here]

Immediately, he looked up from his phone. A large smile appeared on his face upon meeting your eyes. He waved his hand, beckoning you to come over, and you followed. You could feel a slight tinge of nervousness as you neared closer to the male.

"Hey," Seungcheol greeted you, a grin on his face and you offered him a tight lipped smile in response. His happy expression morphed into a frown, "What? You still don't trust me?" He pouted.

"It's— It's not that," you bit your lip, looking away from the male, "I'm just embarrassed— that's all," you heard him chuckle at your explanation, causing you to glare at him. He patted his hand on the chair beside him, urging you to take a seat. The glare on your face was still present as you sat down.

"No need to be embarrassed, Y/N, it's all in the past," Seungcheol opened his bag, his hand reaching in for something. In one swift motion, he pulls out your letter, "Here," he smiles at you, "I'm sure you've been wanting to get your hands on this."

Letting out a small shriek, you snatch the object from his grasp, "Oh my god, my baby—" you bring the letter to your chest, a relieved sigh escaping your lips. You stay in that position for a while, not paying any attention to the male that's been looking at you with a small smile on his face the entire time.

"Damn, I knew it was important to you , but I didn't know it meant that much," Seungcheol's voice interrupts your mini-episode. You sneered, "Of course, you wouldn't know," you stayed silent for a moment before facing the male, "But, thank you."

The gentle smile on Seungcheol's face never falters, "No problem," he adjusts his seating position before speaking up once again, "So, what are you planning on next?"

You rested your chin on your palm, your free hand twiddling with the letter, "I don't know, " You sighed, "But as much as possible, I'd like to avoid facing my disaster head-on, thank you very much."

A disapproving sound escaped Seungcheol's lips, "Tsk, that won't do," He scolded you, "You won't be able to accomplish anything if you do that,"

"What else can I do?" You groaned, "I don't exactly have the guts of steel, Mr. Choi Seungcheol."

"That's why I'm here, Y/N," he sent a wink at your direction. God, you really wanted to smack him, but he was right. You won't be able to go anywhere if you don't confront them— that is unless you consider sneaking around and taking the the letters without their knowledge, which you're totally up for, by the way.

Your meeting with Seungcheol sadly got cut short by the bell ringing. The both of you stood up and started to gather your things. You slipped the letter into one of your notebooks— you'll place it in a safe box later when you get home. One down, twelve more to go.

The both of you head inside the school building in silence. Seungcheol tapped your shoulder, causing you stop your legs. You face the male, raising your brow at him as you wait for what he has to say.

"I'll talk to you later, yeah? Tell me if anything happens," he smiled. You gave him a quick nod before the both of you finally parted ways.

Surprisingly, you managed to trek down the hallway without having to hide yourself in another locker or having to run another god forsaken marathon. You hadn't ran into any of the boys yet which is definitely good on your part since you weren't mentally prepared to face any of them yet (Seungcheol was an exemption).

You entered class, and lo and behold, Seungkwan was sitting on the desk right beside the door. You let out a yelp, loud enough for half of the class to hear, and you quickly slapped your palm onto your lips. Luckily, the professor wasn't around yet— with yesterday's events, he probably wouldn't let this one slide.

You timidly shuffled around the classroom and decided to sit down at the very back— not your preferred seat, but you wanted to avoid the male as much as possible. While taking out your things, you heard the screech of a chair from beside you, followed by the sound of someone sitting down. You turn your head to see who had decided to sit next to you, and the moment you saw the person— you paled, eyes widening and choking on literally nothing in the process.

"Don't think you could run away just like last time, Y/N— you have some explaining to do," Seungkwan warned you before giving his attention to your professor that had just made his arrival.

Okay, that was unexpected. You only anticipated three things to happen whenever any of the boys decide to confront you— they'll either reject you (obviously), make fun of your cheesy writing, or profess their love for you in return (highly unlikely). You clearly didn't expect a threat.

For the rest of the class, you could only think about Seungkwan's words. You yourself know that you obviously had to explain things, but how did he know? You mentally cursed at yourself. Focus on class, Y/N, think about this shit later. You weren't gonna lie, this entire situation was really giving off a negative impact on your studies— well, your whole life, in general— but all you could do was suck it up, the educational system doesn't give a fuck about the students' well being, anyways.

The bell rang, signalling the end of your class and the beginning of your ruin.

You raced towards the door, hoping to evade the male's confrontation, but for some reason, the path to the door seemed way longer than it was supposed to be (plus the fact there's literally a large mass of students trying to get out, as well). You had no choice but to accept your dreaded fate.

Seungkwan appeared beside you, holding a tight grip on your wrist in case you try to run away (a good idea on his part). You furrowed your brows. It confused you as to why he was so adamant about having you to explain the reason for the letter. Maybe it could be something else? If so, then it must be really really bad for Seungkwan to act like this. At that thought, your nerves started to surface even harder than before.

Upon reaching the hallway, Seungkwan wordlessly dragged you to a corner. The students that were around gave the both of you questioning looks as you passed them by. The male decided to stop, and without even giving you much time to think, he uttered out,

"What the fuck?"

Your features morphed into a mix of confusion and alarm. What? The male probably noticed your expression, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Look, Y/N, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it's not fucking funny," Seungkwan glared at you, causing you to flinch. "Vernon approached me yesterday after school, saying he received a letter from you— a love letter, to be more specific," the male's glare doesn't leave his features.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

You bit your lip, trying to think of the proper words to say, "I—I can explain, Seungkwan—"

"You better," he snapped. "I honestly do not understand you, Y/N. We used to be friends— hell, Vernon even considered you to be his best friend, years ago. I know it may have already been six years, but do you think it's okay to try and lead two people on?"

You stayed silent. You wanted to wait for him to finish before reasoning yourself out.

"Not to mention that one of the two literally used to be the closest with you, Y/N." Seungkwan's tone started to become softer, "He may have left that day, Y/N, but Vernon doesn't deserve the shit that you're trying to pull."

Seungkwan looked at you, waiting for what you have to say. You breathed in, hoping that the male would understand you explanation.

"That was never my intention, Seungkwan, " he scoffed but didn't say anything, "Actually, those— those letters weren't supposed to be sent in the first place."

Seungkwan eyed you in disbelief, "I thought you were smart, Y/N, but that's got to be the dumbest excuse I've ever heard."

"I'm telling the truth, Seungkwan. You were never meant to read that— those letters were written for myself," You explained. It's clear that the male still doesn't believe you, but you persist, "I wrote Hansol's letter after he left for America, I wrote your letter when you rose me up while I was absolutely devastated that he left. Everything inside those letters were true— I really did love the both of you."

Seungkwan didn't say anything, but his eyes remained on you.

"And you were never meant to find out."

It was quiet— the only sound that emanated from the both of you was the sound of your heavy breathing. Seungkwan didn't look at you, his eyes were focused on the ground beneath him. You pressed your lips together, afraid if the male believed your words or not. A sigh escaped Seungkwan's lips, he raised his head and looked at you in the eye.

"Alright," he breathed, "I believe you."

It felt as if a heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders. You were about to collapse onto the floor out of relief (and you really couldn't face him anymore after all of that), but Seungkwan wasn't finished.

"But, that doesn't mean I'm still not mad at you," Your face dropped. What else does he want? Your mouth formed into a frown. The window seemed really tempting right now.

"I'll be honest with you, Y/N. I was actually really pleased upon receiving your letter, but Vernon wasn't," Seungkwan stated, distress evident in his voice and features, "To put it in simple terms— he feels like shit."

You furrowed your brows, "Wait, why?" Seungkwan let out a sigh, his hands started to fidget.

"I don't know what exactly you wrote in his letter, but he says he feels really bad for leaving you," he explained, "I mean, he felt bad even before, obviously, but he feels like absolute shit for breaking your heart without knowing."

Oh no. Your heart fell. You didn't want anyone— especially Vernon— to feel that way because of you. It wasn't his decision to leave in the first place. If anyone were to blame, that was you for literally having zero control over your feelings.

"Listen, Y/N," Seungkwan's stern tone interrupted your turbulent thoughts, "I'm not returning your letter unless you talk to Vernon."

"I was planning on talking to him, anyways! God, I can't just let him beat himself up for that," Your voice ended up being louder than expected, eliciting a flinch from the male before you. You mumbled out a quiet 'sorry' before speaking out again.

"But," You sighed, not looking at the male, "I don't think I'm ready to talk to him yet."

"I'll be keeping your letter for the meantime, then," Seungkwan remarked, "As his best friend, I can't stand seeing him like that, Y/N. But he won't listen to anything I say— he'd only listen if it comes from you."

Your eyes were stuck to the floor as you heard Seungkwan making his leave. You stood there in silence, reflecting on what the male had just said. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh.

You'll talk to Vernon sooner or later, but for now, you have other problems to deal with.

102 notes · View notes

mind-reader1 · 5 years

Text

Queen of Hearts (Ch. 32)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: None

Note: One more chapter and maybe a bonus if you guys are lucky!

Word Count: 4,550

Summary: Emma and Drake hide out in the states from the press. Drake finally gets to meet Emma’s parents! And finally, the big return! How will things in Cordonia be for Drake and Emma after avoiding it for months?

Chapter 32: Bad Karma - Ida Maria

You better believe in karma Baby it's gonna sting The wheel of life's gonna do you in So I don't really have to do a thing You took me outta my money You messed up my love life and my career You better believe in karma Guess it's gonna start getting weird right here

Bad karma (oh, yeah) Baby that's what you got Bad karma (oh, yeah) Whether you believe it or not The universe is gonna getcha You'll be scratchin' the seven year itch You know what I think? Bad karma's a bitch

When they landed in Texas Emma felt her stomach rolling, she was nervous about meeting Drake's mom for the first time. He sensed her nerves and squeezed her hand leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“You don't need to be nervous.”

“How much did you tell her Drake? What if she hates me?” Emma looked around for a trash can, she felt like she was going to be sick.

“She knew about our arrangement with Liam, that's it. She's the one who told me to get my ass on a plane and come back, trust me she's going to love you.” Emma nodded and let Drake pull her along, waving at a woman with long black hair.

“You must be Emma! Drake's told me so much about yo-” she reached out to pull Emma into a hug, but Emma bolted to the nearest trash can, and got sick. Drake came over and held her hair, Bianca awkwardly standing back.

“Oh my god. She's gonna hate me.” Emma groaned as Drake rubbed her back, passing her a tissue.

“Your pregnant Walker, she's not going to be mad at you for that. She's going to be happy she's going to have another grandkid.” Emma wiped her mouth and straightened up, walking back over to his mom.

“Sorry. It's so nice to meet you!”

“You feeling alright darling?” Emma smiled.

“Just fine, airplane food.” Bianca smiled knowingly but stayed silent. Bianca drove them to her ranch and grilled Emma.

“Okay Mom, I think that's enough. You're going to scare her away.” Emma gave Drake a thankful look.

“I wouldn't have all these questions if you had brought her here at some point! You've been married for three years and this is the first time I'm meeting her.”

“Mom.” Drake's voice got a warning tone.

“It's fine Drake. I wish we could've visited before, circumstances just didn't allow it.” An awkward silence fell over them as they drove up to the ranch. Drake grabbed their suitcases, Bianca and Emma hung back in the kitchen.

“Want something to eat or drink?” Emma shook her head and Bianca raised an eyebrow.

“Stomach still upset or something else maybe? You're glowing dear. Does Drake know? I saw Liam's announcement, I'm sure you have a lot to talk about if you didn't talk on the plane.” Emma's eyes grew wide.

“I uh, yeah he knows. We do have a lot to talk about, but I had an idea I was hoping you could help me with.” Drake descended the stairs and heard Emma and Bianca speaking in hushed tones.

“Mom, I'm going to give Walker a tour.” Drake grabbed Emma's hand.

“Why do you call her Walker like it's her name?” Drake rolled his eyes.

“It's nothing, just our thing. Anyways, we'll see you for dinner.” Drake dragged her out of the house and helped her onto a horse. They slowly rode together across the entire property, it was breathtaking and a literal breath of fresh air to the palace and press constantly following her.

“This is beautiful Drake!” He looked over at Emma and she was the happiest he had seen her in years. Of course, she had been happy they got back together and after their moment on the plane, but this was different, a more carefree kind of happy, the kind of happy she had been right after they had gotten married.

“We should stay here Drake, leave it all behind.” he sighed.

“Walker, I love this place and I love you. Cordonia is our home though.” Emma knew he was right, but she didn't want to go back. Ever.

“Drake I… I don't know that I can go back. After everything. New York was my home for a long time, I love Cordonia, but I missed the states.” Drake pulled his horse over, so he was right next to her and squeezed her hand.

“I get why you're afraid, I do. Cordonia was my home though, my mom didn't move here until Savannah and I were adults. Besides, you can't run from Liam or the press forever, you have responsibilities in Cordonia like your duchy. Not only that, but think of our friends, you know Maxwell and Hana wouldn't let you stay away too long. I'm not saying we have to leave tomorrow or anything, but we will have to go back eventually.” Emma groaned.

“I know. I want to have the baby here though Drake, I want privacy. I don't need the press breathing down our necks, I want our baby to grow up like a normal kid, just like we talked about.”

“I think we can make that happen Walker.” Drake smiled and leaned over to give her a kiss before they continued the tour.

They stayed in Texas with his mom for a month, Emma loved spending time with Bianca, but she was driving Drake crazy, and Emma's sex drive had been low, partially because of all the nausea that seemed to hit her at every time of day, and also because Biana was just down the hall and the bed wasn't exactly the quietest, it squeaked any time one of them turned over. Emma still wasn't ready to go and face the press though, she had seen headlines and they were still about her and Liam. Wondering where she had gone, who she was with, how Liam was handling the fact that she had run off with his baby, if it even was his baby. That was her favorite headline. The unstable American duchess who couldn't handle the pressure of being Queen. Drake snatched her phone from her before she could read another on the plane to New York.

“Hey!”

“Walker you shouldn't bother. The press is like vultures, they're as bad as the ladies at court.”

“They're right Drake! I couldn't handle it and I ran off.” Drake rolled his eyes.

“No Walker. We're taking a break, taking time for us, time we never got to have. We're planning a wedding, getting ready for a baby, there's nothing unstable about it.” Emma snuggled up against Drake.

“You're right. I just, I guess it bothers me that they still haven't left me alone like Liam asked.”

“We'll figure it out together Walker. For now, we should worry about making new memories in New York, happy memories.”

“I want you to meet my parents too.” Drake's brows knit together in confusion as he looked down at her.

“I thought-” Drake didn't finish the sentence, the one time he had asked about her family hadn't gone well. All she said was that she had no living relatives.

“They are. They're dead, but their graves are here, I know they would've loved you. Even if you can't meet them, I still want to take you. I know it sounds dumb, but I used to go and talk to them, I haven't been since before I met you. A lot's happened since then.”

“I don't think it sounds dumb at all. I'd love to meet your parents.” They were renting a tiny studio apartment on a monthly basis, it took them a couple weeks, but they had settled in well. Emma took a deep breath and smoothed over the black dress she was wearing, she was going to take Drake to her parents graves and she was nervous about it. Drake sidled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek.

“Are you ready?” Emma nodded and let out a deep breath grabbing Drake's hand. He grabbed some flowers off the table and they hailed a cab to the cemetery. Drake climbed out and helped Emma out, he began walking in a general direction, stopping when he felt resistance. He looked back and saw Emma standing still, clearly nervous.

“Emma?”

“I’m scared Drake.” She shook her head, her breathing shallow and uneven.

“What's scaring you?”

“I've never taken someone to my parents graves. I haven't been here in four years Drake. I'm an awful daughter.” Drake pulled her in close and kissed her forehead.

“No, you're not. You were living your life, you're here now with your husband and our unborn baby. They'll be so happy and proud of you and how far you've come. I want to meet them; can you show me now?” Emma nodded and took a deep breath to steel her nerves.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad. I know it's been awhile, I'm sorry. I didn't forget about you, I've just been busy. I got married to the most wonderful man ever, Drake. He's here with me and...and we're having a baby. I love you, and I miss you so much.” She choked back a sob as Drake stepped up and laid the flowers down at both headstones clearing his throat.

“I, uh. Hello Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, I'm Drake, your son-in-law. I'm sorry I never got to meet you, but I'm so incredibly grateful for you both, for the wonderful daughter you raised and that I got the privilege to marry. I'm sure you had an idea of what kind of man you wanted your daughter to end up with, and I uh, I'm going to try and be that man. I hope that I can be a good father and raise this baby so, it turns out to be as amazing as a person as your daughter.” Emma felt tears sting her eyes, she didn't think it was possible to love Drake more than she already did, but after hearing him talk to her parents that’s exactly what happened. Drake, who had been kneeling stood back up and looked at Emma wiping a tear.

“Walker? What's wrong?” She smiled and grabbed his hand, keeping it against her cheek and leaning into his touch.

“Nothing,” she whispered, “I just love you so much. Thank you for coming with me today.”

“Of course, Walker. I love you and this baby, I'm glad you let me meet your parents.” Drake rested a hand on the tiny bump there and grabbed her hand.

“Bye mom, bye dad. I love you, I'll come visit more often. Maybe I'll have your grandkid with us next time.” They strolled hand in hand back towards the road, a content silence between them.

“Car accident.”

“What?”

“They died in a car accident. I was 20. The roads were icy one night on their way home from dinner, it was just a freak accident.”

“I'm sorry Emma.” She smiled and squeezed his hand.

“It's okay Drake. It's been ten years, I'm just really glad you got to meet them.”

“Maybe when we get back to Cordonia, we can visit my dad, you can talk to him. I haven't been in a while. He would've loved you, and to know that he would've been a grandpa, he'd be over the moon like Bastien.”

“I'd like that a lot Drake, I want to thank Jackson for giving me such an incredible husband.” Emma chuckled.

They stayed in New York for two months, Emma knew they needed to return to Cordonia. Their friends had been respectful of needed space, but they were starting to grow worried and more insistent, she was ready to face them all though. They flew into Cordonia late at night without telling anyone, going straight to their cabin. The next day after they had let everyone know they'd returned, they went to Valtoria. Hana had been holding down the fort, but it was time for Emma to step in again. Neither of them had spoken to Liam since they left, Emma was mad that he had done nothing to tell the press to leave her name out of the headlines, that it wasn't his baby she was carrying. They hadn't spoken to Olivia either, while Olivia and Emma were still friends, it was awkward because of Liam. That day they received a message from a royal carrier, Liam was hosting a ball in honor of her return and offering her a chance to publicly be announced at court with Drake if they wanted.

This was everything she had wanted and fought for during her time as Queen, but now that it was here she was unsure. Drake never wanted to be a Duke, in the eyes of Cordonia they weren't even actually married as they'd never filed any paperwork. She was pregnant with his baby out of wedlock, just another rumor for the press to run rampant with, she couldn't hide it either. She had a visible bump now no matter what she wore, it was small, but unmistakable, besides the press already knew she was pregnant. They decided to go on the condition that press wasn't allowed in, Liam agreed. The night of the ball Emma chose a dark blue gown that was off the shoulder, beading under both breasts. It hugged her curves, but wasn't tight, it was a perfect fit and it showed off her bump which Drake loved. He wore a new suit that matched, also dark blue with the pink tie he had worn to her wedding to Liam. She straightened his tie and they walked out hand in hand, but before they even got to the car they were flooded with camera flashes.

“Your grace over here!”

“Your grace, are you with Drake Walker? The Kings best friend?”

“Your grace, is he the father of your baby?”

“How does King Liam feel about this? Does he know he's not the father?”

“How long has this been happening your grace?”

“Was the weight of the crown too much?”

“Why did you lie to the people for so long?” They fired off question after question. Emma felt dizzy, so many familiar faces from previous social events. One man, the one who always wore his ball cap backwards got in her face. Emma stumbled back, and Drake caught her.

“Get out of here! Leave us alone! Can't you see she needs some space!” Drake yelled, but his voice was drowned out.

“Are you the father?”

“You're wearing a ring! Did you secretly get married while you were gone?” Emma's head was spinning, it felt hard to breath, she couldn't see because of all the camera flashes.

“GIVE HER SOME SPACE! SHE'S PREGNANT!” Drake helped Emma steady herself and made a path through the press to the car. Emma didn't feel like she could breathe again until she couldn't hear or see the paparazzi anymore. Drake was disheveled and sweaty casting worried glances over at her.

“Vultures. Don't they have anything better to do than worry about other people's lives. Hell! Liam asked them so give you some space.” Emma rested her hand on Drake's, the last thing she needed was him all worked up, they still had to face Liam and the rest of court for the first time since the announcement about the divorce. They arrived at the palace, but neither of them moved, Drake watched Emma closely.

“Do you still want to do this Walker? We can turn around.” Emma shook her head and opened the door taking a deep breath.

“Let's do this.” Emma climbed out first and waited for Drake, they walked into the palace together. Emma whispered to the herald how to announce them to the rest of the guests, they were the last to arrive.

“The guest of honor! Duchess Emma Walker and Duke Drake Walker.” The ballroom was silent for just a moment before murmurs rippled the crowd. Emma forced a smile and grabbed Drake's arm walking down into the ballroom, Emma caught Liam’s gaze, Drake avoided it. Their friends quickly found them, asking all sorts of questions, but mostly excited to see them. Bartie came rushing up to them and wrapped his arms around Drake's legs before going to Emma's, he had gotten so big. Their hearts swelled looking at him, they couldn't wait for that, it wouldn't be long now. Slowly but surely people stopped whispering and started to approach, Kiara first. Drake grabbed Emma's wrist and placed himself slightly between the women, he didn't trust either of them not to start something.

“Duchess Emma, Drake, I'm surprised to see you again.” Drake could feel the hate rolling off Emma.

“It's Duke Drake actually.” Emma pursed her lips.

“Of course,” she cleared her throat, “I wanted to apologize for my behavior before you left court. Madeleine started all the rumors and was practically forcing me onto Drake. I, uh, assume congratulations are in order.” She raised an eyebrow at Emma's belly.

“I think you should leave Kiara. I don't like what you're implying about my wife.” Drake snapped.

“Non, just a misunderstanding. I'm sure there are many people who want to talk to you though.” Kiara stepped away and Emma rolled her eyes turning to Drake. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

“Are you ready to sneak off yet?” Emma chuckled and looked around.

“Absolutely, but all eyes are on us. We'd never make it out of here.”

“Screw it. Let 'em see.” Drake pulled Emma close and dipped her for a kiss, he pulled away when he felt her smile against his lips.

“Where did that come from marshmallow?”

“I've wanted to do that since the homecoming ball, now I can, and I don't plan on wasting a second.” Someone cleared their throat behind them and they turned to see Liam and Olivia standing there. Emma and Drake both stiffened, Drake and Liam hadn't seen each other since Drake had punched him. Emma made the first move, smiling and giving Olivia a hug before nodding politely to Liam.

“Thank you for this ball Liam.”

“Of course. Has everyone been polite?” Drake scoffed behind them.

“Just peachy.”

“How's Lucian?”

“What does he mean? Has someone bothered you?” Drake laughed incredulously.

“The entire court has been staring at us all night, the press practically attacked us outside of our estate in Valtoria. So much for calling off the watchdogs.” Olivia stepped up ready to snap back, but Liam grabbed her arm.

“It's okay Liv,” Liam turned to Drake, “I'm sorry that's happened. I'll be speaking to them first time tomorrow. I know it might be hard to believe, but I've changed, and I want to make up for all the pain I inflicted on you both. Please, let me know if I can do anything for you. I know things can probably never go back to the way they were, but I'd like to try.” He held out his hand and Drake looked at it and walked away. Liam sighed and dropped his hand.

“Give him some time Liam. We're both working on our forgiveness, maybe some of us more than others.” Emma pursed her lips and glanced back at Drake.

“I should go after him, it was good to see you again Olivia. Liam. We'll have to catch up, chat about Lucian.” Olivia beamed.

“Yes, he's doing well. We can talk about it later though, go.” Emma chased after Drake and felt all eyes follow her as she left the ballroom. She found him outside by an empty bar cart.

“Hey, ready to get out of here?”

“I'm sorry Walker. We can go back in there, I just needed a minute.”

“It's fine Drake.”

“He just, I can't believe him! After all the shit he pulled now he's asking for forgiveness? Saying he's changed!” He ran a hand through his hair angrily and paced.

“Drake,” Emma stepped in his path and put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her, “I hated him. Hated. I do think he's changed, and I think we should give him a chance. He was your best friend. I can’t stand the thought that I had anything to do with you guys drifting apart, so please think about it okay?” He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes softening.

“You never cease to amaze me, let's get back in there. It's your ball after all.” Emma leaned in for a slow, passionate kiss.

“No. Let's go home Drake, back to the cabin.” She let her hands trail down his chest and over his crotch, Drake instantly responding.

“Absolutely. Let's go.” He grabbed her hand and they ran off to the car. The next morning Emma woke before Drake and looked over at him, his hair was a mess and he was on his side facing where Emma had been moments ago, his face squished against the pillow, an arm out on her side of the bed. She had been laying in his embrace for almost an hour, she couldn't lie still anymore, but she didn't mind watching him for a minute before making coffee. He looked younger, happier, so much more handsome when he wasn't wearing his signature scowl. She snapped a picture and wandered downstairs, turning on the news as she waited for the coffee to brew. There was breaking news, Liam was holding a press conference.

“About three months ago, I stood before you and told you Lady Emma and I were getting a divorce and I asked you to respect her privacy, though I never gave you a reason why. Well you have dragged her name through the mud and you cornered her and her companion last night at her home. That is not respectful to her or anyone else! I am horrified by this, what our media has become. I offer you a deal, leave Lady Emma alone, leave her out of this. Leave my son and Lady Olivia out of this, and I will give you a tell all interview. If anyone so much as looks at one of them or speaks of one of them, then the deal is off. You've got 24 hours to think about it. Thank you.” The press was silent and then began clambering after him.

“Drake!” Emma hollered, he came racing downstairs panicked.

“What? Is it the baby? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. Watch this.” She rewound the press conference for him and got them both a cup of coffee.

“Wow.”

“I think he's changed Drake.”

“Maybe.” Emma's phone began to ring, and she saw it was Liam calling. She frowned but answered anyways. Drake watched her like a hawk over his cup of coffee as she took a seat at the kitchen counter. When she hung up he looked at her expectantly.

“Well? What did he want?”

“He wanted to know how much I was okay with him sharing, if he should mention you if asked. The media already figured it out anyways. I'd rather have the record set straight than another fake headline floating around.” Drake nodded, he hated the idea of being in the public eye and everyone knowing their secret, but that was part of the territory and a small price to pay for being with the woman he loved.

Olivia paced back and forth in front of Liam as he bounced their son in his arms.

“Liv.” She held her hand up to stop him. He had mentioned the night before telling the press to lay off Emma and Drake, but he failed to mention it would include a tell all interview.

“What were you thinking? Oh wait, you weren't! This will reflect badly on you, me, them, our son! I can't believe you! Still bending over backwards to please the American.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Olivia that's enough!” She stopped and looked at Liam, he had used his king voice, he never used that voice with her.

“This isn't about Emma, it involves her, but it's not about her. This is about us. I'm tired of seeing headlines about you wrecking my 'marriage’ or hearing rumors whispered around court. People calling our son a bastard child! Honesty is the best way to go about this and what we should've done from the beginning, but I'm going to fix it. I don't want our son growing up hearing these things about his parents or himself. It's all gone on long enough.” She considered his words, knowing he was right.

“Well, this all could've been prevented if you didn't need the shiniest new toy every time.” Liam smiled, he knew Olivia and Emma were friends, but Olivia had some lingering jealousy.

“Liv, you know I only have eyes for you.” She rolled her eyes, he always said that though. She snatched Lucian out of his arms and turned her back on him.

“Liv.” She didn't answer. “Olivia.”

“What?!” She snapped and turned around. Liam was there on one knee smiling up at her.

“Olivia Nevrakis, I have known you for as long as I can remember, you have been a staple in my life and I regret that I didn't recognize sooner just how perfect you are for me. Liv, you are the Queen of my heart and I want you to be by my side forever as the Queen of Cordonia. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?” She was speechless, she and Liam had discussed the future before, but it never really involved marriage talk, it focused more on their son. Their relationship had been a kind of slow burn, building up the more tension that grew between Emma and Liam. The silence built between them and Liam began to get a sense of déjà vu.

“Liv?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes! I'll marry you Liam.” He stood up to slip the ring on her finger and went in for a kiss, but she held up a hand to his lips and he frowned.

“I'm keeping my last name though.” Liam chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, this time she allowed it.

“I would expect nothing less Queen Nevrakis-Rhys.”

“Good, now go get ready for your interview.” She pushed him away with one hand before slapping his butt. Liam jumped surprised.

“Just enjoying knowing you're all mine now.” Liam took a deep breath in the palace boutique and out on his best suit before having his hair and makeup done. He was nervous, palms sweating as walked up to the podium in the press room. They fired question after question at him, but he had been expecting them all.

“So, you're saying that Lady Emma was unfaithful to you after you cheated on her?” Liam suppressed an eyeroll.

“No. Lady Emma and I had an arrangement. Our friends were in danger and I needed the Cordonian people's support. I knew that they loved her and trusted her, and so I asked her to marry me, it was then I learned she was in love with someone else. I suggested that she could be with who she wanted, as long as she agreed to play the role of my wife for the cameras and in turn she let me be with Lady Olivia who I love dearly and has agreed to marry me.”

“What about Lady Emma's baby? Are you saying that you're not the father?” Again, he had to suppress an eye roll.

“Do you not feel betrayed by your best friend? Is Drake Walker the father of the baby?”

“No, I do not feel betrayed, and yes Duke Drake Walker is the father of his wife's baby. I'm very happy for them both. This interview is over now.” Liam stood and left the press room.

Next Time: It’s been a year since Emma and Drake returned to Cordonia! What are they up to now? Has everything gone smoothly?

Tagging: @notoriouscs @brightpinkpeppercorn @ooo-barff-ooo@leelee10898@sleepwalkingelite @roonarific@speedyoperarascalparty@andy-loves-corgis @furiousherringoperatortoad@findingdrake @sue9659@smritysriv@larryssunflower@likethetailofacomet drakewalkerfics@zaffrenotes@mrsdrakewalkerblog@agent-bossypants @endlessly-searching-for-you @cgd03 @simsvetements@jovialyouthmusic @akrenich @jlouise88 @bettys-mom @gibbles82

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immiesradio-blog · 5 years

Text

You’re My Best Friend ~ Roger Taylor x OC 1

Chapter 1

September 1967 Barbara's P.O.V

I stepped off of the carriage, feeling an extreme wave of tiredness flow over me. The journey had felt as though it had lasted forever, I hadn't travelled this far in my life so far and it was unspeakably boring alone. I couldn't help but think that if me and Roger hadn't had that argument and were still friends, that I wouldn't have been on my own while travelling to London, the journey would've been at least more bearable, definitely filled with laughs and amusement.

My backpack dug into my shoulder as I moved forward, dragging my suitcase with me. London was already so different, it was most definitely an unfamiliar surrounding and not like the quietness and serenity that I was so used to in Truro.

Throughout the last part of my journey to Ealing Art College, my face was frowning as I thought about how this had been both me and Roger's dream, our dream, and now it was just my own. I missed him more than anything and hadn't stopped thinking about what I had said to him that day, a year or so ago now. He was my best friend and I had completely and utterly fucked it up. It seemed as though he had forgotten me, left me behind. The last I heard of Roger was that apparently he was still with 'The Reaction', still relatively popular and surrounded by girls who were completely and utterly in awe of him.

I couldn't not be happy for him, doing music is what he was meant to do and that was one of the last things that I had told him, I still go by my word, I just wished that I had been by his side as he lived his dream.

I had reached Ealing art college in short time. The building was beautiful, everything that I had ever dreamed of. It was quite a large site and there were already people making their way to sign in although nothing officially started until next week Monday. A middle aged woman had been the one to cross off my name and direct me to the apartment that I had paid for to stay in with a roommate who I had just found out was a woman named Stella. The walk was nothing, the apartment was just a few minutes away, it was quite pretty outside, not what I was expecting at all. The exterior was painted a pastel blue which was very faded with a few empty plant boxes in front of the only window.

I came to the conclusion that I had made the right decision to stay off site since I'd definitely have more freedom, depending on Stella, my supposed roommate. I had worked so hard during the summer in order to pay my half of this apartment, my parents, especially my father, were furious with me. I had been given the cold shoulder from the both of them, they refused to help with any money related issues such as my ticket to travel to London and the apartment, I had arranged it all by myself.

The interior of the apartment was very basic, included everything I needed in order to live, it just didn't really look appealing to me, nothing I wouldn't be able to fix though. One bathroom without a bath, two tiny bedrooms, a very small kitchen attached to the living room and a balcony, it was enough.

Unpacking hadn't taken that long and when I was done I had jumped straight onto the squeaky sofa, laying back as I closed my eyes, feeling extremely tired after such a long afternoon.

I heard the door unlock, my eyes shot straight open, thinking that someone was trying to break in, and then suddenly realising that I was sharing this apartment with someone else, must be Stella.

A girl peaked into the living room, blonde, blue eyes. She suddenly smiled when she saw me lounging on the sofa, "Hi, I'm Stella!"

I sat up, smiling back at her, "Hiya, I'm Ba-,"

"Barbara, yes I know! Lady at the desk told me," she interrupted, giggling a little, "Nice to meet you, I see you've already made yourself comfortable."

"You too!" I reply, letting out a laugh at her remark. She seemed to be really nice, already very easy to talk to, not awkward at all, I liked her. I was very skeptical about sharing a place with someone else who I had never met before, I was definitely not expecting someone as nice as her.

"I'm going to have a look around," she tells me.

I relaxed myself again, leaning further back and closing my eyes.

"We will probably be fighting over the shower a lot!" I hear her call, "Only one bathroom!"

"I know! I'll try not to hog it!" I call back.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening me and Stella got to know each other, the conversation flowed very easily and we found ourselves laughing about the shitty springs in our beds. I had also found out that she was interested in fashion and was studying textiles at college, she was also a year older than me and that her parents had practically kicked her out.

"Where have you come from then?" She asks, lifting her cigarette up to her lips, breathing in before tapping the ashes away out of the window.

"Truro."

"Truro?"

"A little town in cornwall."

"Ah, cornwall! I've heard that it's beautiful there," she replies, "why in the hell would you come here?"

I let out a long sigh, smiling a little, "I don't really know anymore, just been my dream to come and study here, I'll miss cornwall very much," I tell her, only thinking of Roger as these words left my lips, he was the one that I'd miss.

Monday had soon come and I had woken up very early, as did Stella since she also had a lesson to go to in a few hours. We walked together down the street towards the college site, there were many others doing the same, presumably new and old students all together. Me and Stella along with the rest of the new students were given a tour around the building and had also been directed towards the rooms that we had been allocated.

The inside of the college was just as nice as the outside, there were artworks hung up that previous students had created as their final pieces. Stella looked just as excited as me, we exchanged impressed looks all the way through the little tour.

"Meet me here after you've finished!" She says as she points at her Textiles room, flashing me a big smile as she waves and disappears into the room.

I made my way to the Graphic design room, followed the directions that I had been given, missing a few turns and retracing my steps until I had finally found the correct room.

There were already people in the room, some still working, others, probably the new students were sat down around the tables in the middle of the room. Some of the new students were already talking to each other, others were sat in silence and I sat down at an empty table, waiting for the tutor to arrive.

He came rushing into the room around ten minutes after I had arrived, "Sorry I'm late everybody."

Mr Wright had introduced himself and had also told us the ins and outs of the course, what we were to do, handing out sketchbooks and directing us to other rooms which we had access to. He also got to know us a little, asking us for our names followed by telling us to get on with what it was we were planning to do.

It was very ambiguous and I had no idea what I was doing, some others didn't either, others got to working immediately. I stood myself up, looking around at all the equipment and materials we had been given, where everything was.

I was lingering around the materials, not knowing what to take and also just not knowing what I was doing in general, I didn't know where to start. A boy had suddenly stood next to me, grabbing a few pencils and halted when he saw me just stood still, dumbfounded.

"Would you like any help?" I hear him ask, feeling his eyes watching me as I continued to stare down at the cupboard in front of me.

"I er- sure, I have no idea what I'm doing," I reply, averting my eyes to him. Immediately my mind was taken aback by how attractive he was, very dark brown- almost black hair, brown eyes, a very structured face and very prominent cheekbones.

He smiled a little crooked smile, "I'm Freddie Bulsara, I love your earrings," he introduces himself, still smiling as he studies my face.

I feel heat rush up to my cheeks feeling a little weak to the knees, I manage to mutter a 'thanks'. I felt so stupid since I didn't particularly want to find anyone attractive at all, I wanted to focus on my design, only due to my poor taste in the opposite sex, after Steve Harrington I had no confidence in pursuing a relationship with anybody as of right now. I shook the feeling off as I pulled myself together, but probably coming across as being one of the most peculiar creatures.

"Are you more the illustrative type?" He asks, a hint of a smirk showing on his lips, his front teeth showing slightly. He was even more attractive in an odd sort of way.

"Yeah."

"Like me! Follow me, take some pencils, we're going to the practical room."

I followed him towards the room, one that the Graphics students had access to. Only one other person was in the room working, very concentrated and hadn't even noticed that anyone had come in. Me and Freddie sat at the other side of the room, he had given me a few ideas on what to do to start off with and gave me some advice about what he had done when he first started here. I got stuck in drawing a few figures, picturing something in my head and drawing it through lines, it seemed like a good start.

After a lesson of being surprisingly productive, me and Freddie had engaged in lots of conversation, he came across as being a very kind and thoughtful person. I was quite drawn to him and his exotic look, he was very different to any other male I'd seen in his style, he was also very hilarious in his manner and his jokes.

I was so caught up in laughing at almost everything that he was saying that I hadn't noticed that Stella was waiting for me outside. It took a fake cough for me and Freddie to notice her presence, she was watching us with a little smirk, "Come on Barbara, I've been waiting for almost fifteen minutes!"

"I better go, I'll see you tomorrow?" I shift my head towards Freddie again, hoping that I will get see him, I already felt comfortable around him, he was so kind, genuine and friendly, I was very sure that we'd be good friends.

He smiled a little, "Of course you will."

As me and Stella walked along the street, she wouldn't shut up about Freddie, giggling and teasing me, "He seemed to really like you."

I shrugged in response, "Really?" trying to sound unbothered by her statement.

"Hell yes. He was quite attractive Barbara, very exotic, I'd go there." She teased, pinching my arm as she giggled.

I laughed loudly as we continued to skip down the street, large grins on our faces. I couldn't believe how close me and Stella were after only a few days of knowing each other, similarly with Freddie. I hadn't been this amused or entertained by anything since Roger had been around. I was beginning to think that maybe this was my way of moving on from my ex best friend, maybe Stella and Freddie were to mean as much to me as Roger once did, maybe I'd stop thinking about him as much, forget him like he had seemed to forget me.

Maybe things were going to begin looking up for me.

____________________________________

Hayooooooo

Had to rewrite and republish this chapter since I had deleted the last one in my sleep, don't ask😂😂😂 don't know that happened.

Chapter 2 should be published tomorrow, hope u liked the chapter anywho :)))

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x oc #oc #barbara rosabella #barbara palvin #fanfic #fanfiction #love #love story #romance #romantic #slowburn #queen #queen x reader #queen x oc #best friends #best friend #music

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