#but not sure yet. let me know if you think i should

[mrslestappen]

Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16

summary: The fact that you have to work as a Formula One driver's assistant for your final college grade is not the worst of your problems; the true issue is that no one told you that you would become a emotional support human for him.

pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader

tags: fluff + angst?, caring charles (tiny bit) + comfort, bad thoughts.

# part one - next part [ series masterlist ]

Everything feels unreal. You're watching the mechanics work in the garage, and the only thing you can think is: has red always been such a pretty color?

It was the first race of the season, and you didn't have much to do yet, they told you that you just needed to make sure that Charles did everything that they asked him to do, and that was easy, thanks to him.

“Have you seen my notebook?" Charles asks as he looks around to see if he can catch a glimpse of the tiny notebook somewhere, you let out a chuckle, grab your purse from the floor and give him what he needs. 

“How is it that you always have everything I need?” he took the notebook from your hands and opened it “I try my best” he gave you a knowing look.

Charles still remembers the first time he saw you at the Ferrari headquarters in Maranello, you had just signed your contract with them and he had just been told that he had a new assistant. 

You were quite awkward and a bit clumsy when he first struck up a conversation with you. He learned that this was your first job, and he made a mental note to make you feel welcome, and also he didn't want you to leave him like the others. 

He tried his best to make you feel as comfortable as possible before the season started, he was patient and generally nice, which was what you really needed at that moment. 

When you made your first mistake and didn't tell Charles that he was supposed to be in a meeting, he took the blame and told Fred that it was his fault. 

You thought he would be angry, but he just said "It's okay, everyone makes mistakes" and in that moment you thank the angels for making him such a nice person. 

"Thank you, Mr. Leclerc" 

"None of that, we are a team you and I, if you ever need help just come to me." 

That was a month ago when you were still new and walking on eggshells trying not to make any mistakes, luckily you got better after all your final grade depended on it. 

"Have you eaten today?" Charles asks, handing his notebook back to you, just needed to check something he thought he should comment on the car in the next meeting they will have. 

"I haven't, but I was about to do so," you told him as you walked out of the garage with him beside you, trying your best not to look at him to see his face, which probably had a disappointed look on it. 

"I thought you said you already ate." 

"I did." 

"What did you have?" 

"Coffee," you mumble softly as you enter the Ferrari hospitality, "that's not food y/n," he scolds you again, you already lose count of how many times he does this.

Charles grabs a plate and starts to put different kinds of fruit on it, "you already ate," he nods, "This is for you," you try to grab the plate out of his hands, but he stretches his arm as high as he can to make sure you don't have a chance to grab it. 

"It's my food, let me grab what I want," he ignores you, grabs your wrist, and walks over to one of the tables. 

He pulls out a chair for you and you sit down, he puts the plate in front of you and sits across from you, motioning for you to start eating, which you do, but not before giving him the meanest look you can.

You take out your phone and play a YouTube video while you eat, it is a bad habit and Charles has told you several times but he still watches with you. 

When you put the phone at the right angle so that you and Charles can see the video without any problems, you notice that he is not watching.

“Mr. Leclerc" you called him but he didn't answer, you sighed softly, you know he heard you. 

"Charlie?" 

"Yes?"

"You have to stop doing that," he tilted his head as if he didn't know what you were saying, "I shouldn't call you that," "Why not?" "Because you're my boss.”

"There's nothing wrong with calling me that, besides it makes me feel old when you call me Mr. Leclerc."

"You are old" 

"I'm twenty-six." 

The look you gave him was enough to make a dramatic gasp come out of his mouth, you were already used to his tactics so you didn't apologize for calling him old. 

When the alarm on your phone went off, you grabbed it and stopped it before it could keep ringing, "Time to go, you have a meeting," you said as you handed him his notebook that he needed for to take notes. 

He gave you a quick thanks, but you grabbed him and raised your hand, he gave you a pout, but you shook your head at that, he took his phone out of his pocket and placed it in your hand, "it was worth the try," he muttered to himself. 

✦ ✦ ✦

While you were waiting for Charles' meeting to end, you took out your laptop and started to finish the assignment you were supposed to send for this month. 

You were quite happy when your professor told you that all you had to do was to send in a report on what you had done, the experience you had gained, and what you had become better at, for your monthly assignment. 

It was a pretty easy assignment since you were traveling around the world and learning things that you didn't even know existed, and since this was your first job, it was easier for you because you were learning a lot of new things. 

“Y/n?" You took your eyes off the computer and looked at the person calling your name, you tilted your head as if to ask if they needed anything but they shook their head and motioned with their hand towards the hospitality door. 

You quickly grab your things and walk to the door to greet your friend, "Did you see what Professor Brown posted in the announcements?" You shake your head and ask, "Is it something important?" "Depends, he wants us to take pictures of what we have been doing lately." 

It didn't sound too bad, if the assignments continued to be like this, you were pretty sure you'd get an easy A. 

"Did you do it?" You ask her, "I did," she nods, "but I came here to tell you because I know sometimes you don't check the announcements," you give her an embarrassed smile, "I'm not that bad," you mutter softly, and she gives you a look, which you shrug off. 

"Well, I'm going back, I'm pretty sure Lando is already out of control again, see you, take care," she gave you a quick hug before walking quickly towards the McLaren hospitality. 

You watched her go and sighed, taking your phone out of your pocket, ready to take some pictures to send with the assignment, "Hey, have you seen Andrea?" You jump a little at the voice next to you, "Don't do that, and yes he’s in your driver's room, are you okay? You've been acting weird since yesterday" you ask him with concern evident in your voice, but he quickly shrugs it off and tells you that he is fine. 

You make a mental note to ask him later. "I'm going to exercise, go to my driver's room if you need anything, okay?" You nod, take his phone out of your purse and hand it to him. 

He quickly says goodbye and walks away before you can say anything else to him, you have noticed that Charles has been acting strange since you arrived in Bahrain. 

You have been meaning to ask him about it, but every time you get the chance he seems to run away, which is so unlike him. 

You snap out of your thoughts and head back into the hospitality area, ready to take some pictures and send off the assignment. 

✦ ✦ ✦

Practice one is about to start and everyone is running around making sure everything is perfect. The only thing that seems not to be here is the driver. 

"Y/n, where is Charles?" Fred asks, you want to shrug your shoulders but then you remember that this is your job, and you should know where he is, you look at him and tell him you're going to get Charles, and he gives you a thumbs up.

You look for Charles everywhere, including his driver's room and the hospitality area. Has he left? You were pretty sure you saw him a few minutes ago.  

How can a person disappear so quickly? you even ask people from other garages and they haven't seen him. 

You tried to call him, but his phone was dead, it didn't even send you to voicemail. 

"Y/n!" You hear someone yell your name and quickly turn your head towards Carlos, he seems out of breath, and you can see his chest rising and falling faster than normal.

"Charles is in my driver's room, I don't know what happened," he said, but that was enough for you to start running towards the Ferrari driver's room. You still shouted a thank you to Carlos and that seemed to have caught the attention of other people who looked at you strangely.

But you did not care about that, you needed it to find Charles and to make sure that he was ready to get into the car. 

You reach the driver's room trying to catch your breath as much as you can, you probably look terrible with hair sticking in your face from how much you've been sweating, you want to kill him for making you suffer like this.

You were now outside Carlos' driver's door and you could hear soft mumbling, was he talking to himself?

You knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer, when you got none you decided to open the door. 

"Charles how can-" you couldn't continue as Charles was lying on the floor with his hands on his head rocking back and forth as if trying to calm himself down, your thoughts of scolding him left you just by seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

You walked as slowly as you could and bent down to his level. You grabbed one of his hands, and that was enough for him to look at you quickly. 

"I'm sorry - I can't, it's going to be like last year," he said quickly, you know from what you heard that last year was not a good one for Charles, the car didn't seem to work for him at all, you didn't know he was that affected by it, and now looking at him you didn't want him to feel that way. 

He's such an amazing person and always so happy and joking with you, but he was hiding a lot of things that had hurt him and you couldn't let that happen.

"Hey, you can do this, okay?" both your hands grab his face and you give him a tiny smile, "I can't..." you shush him and try to get as close to him as you can, were you allowed to hug him? You did not know, but at that moment he probably needed it. 

"Hey, those bad days don't define you, you're amazing and such a talented driver, last year the car wasn't good, let's leave that in the past, okay? This is a new opportunity and you're going to show everyone who Charles is, you're going to make them eat their words, so go and destroy them, champ". 

That seems to make Charles' worries melt away a bit, you told him to take a deep breath with you, and when you felt that he was better you slowly let him go. But that seems to be a wrong move, because when you do, Charles seems to look at you as if you took something away from him, but you ignored it. 

"Okay champ get up, time to make jaws drop with your amazing driving" you joked and you were quite happy because you could see the corner of his mouth move up a bit. 

"Thank you, Mon ange" 

"None of that, we are a team, you and I, remember?" 

He nodded and in that moment he let himself look at you while you smiled at him, he felt as if your smile had the power to melt away his worries leaving behind a feeling of peace, in that moment he was grateful for you, he took a deep breath and let it out, there was nothing to worry about.

He's pretty sure this season will go well with you by his side because you wouldn't leave him, would you?

Scuderia :: @evie-119 @tempo-rary-fix @spookystitchery @boiohboii @halleest @itsjustkhaos @aphroditeisamilf @vicurious28 @lozzamez3 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @heyheyheyggg @teamnovalak @fakeplastiqtree @michelleyw81 @lillyssh-tposts @these-books-are-ruining-my-life @kqliie @deliciousfestsalad @biitch-with-wifi @xohollie01 @charlesleclerc2003 @loloekie @elliegrey2803 @steamy-smoker @doesnt-care @delululeclerc @vip-access @theseerbetweenus @haikyuen @arian-directioner @marvelfangirl04 @melagem02 @rach3164 @zucchinimalfoy @scopeiguess @landoslutmeout @reiofsuns2001 @badussybumper @nixily @forevercaffeinated-lee @i-wish-this-was-me @gabys-gabs @entr4p3 @trouble-sistar @thef1diary @puttyly @solo2leo @f1and1d4eva @liliummz

Team radio: I hope you like! it I feel I could have done better but English is not my first language but I will do my best to improve, I will keep practicing and improving my writing every day.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x you #f1 fic #f1 one shot #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #charles leclerc blurb #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #fanfiction #f1 fluff #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #scuderia ferrari

[dark-dawn]

❝ HEART RATE HIGHS !! ❞ – azriel x reader

✭ pairing: gym rat ! azriel x archeron ! reader

✭ summary: you swear you only have a gym membership for self-improvement. it’s definitely not to see the cute guy you have a crush on.

✭ contains: modern au, f!reader, college au, but age is vague, fluff, anxious!reader who can’t see that azriel is already a little in love with you, gym culture, alcohol, meddling sisters, because reader is terrible at talking to guys, mutual pining.

✭ word count: 3k+ ✭ a/n: i absolutely love gym fics and i couldn't stop thinking about azriel in a compression shirt, so if i have to suffer, so do you <3

“wait, did i hear you properly? you’re going to the gym?” nesta’s voice cuts through the quiet murmur of the lecture hall. heads turn, and the professor pauses mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. you cringe at the sudden attention and whisper an apology, slouching in your seat to avoid the stares.

“you’re acting like i’ve just sprouted wings,” you respond, trying to keep your voice low.

nesta blinks, her surprise melting into scepticism. “well, it is out of character for you. the gym, are you sure?”

“yes.”

“really?”

you nod.

you can’t blame her for being doubtful. among your sisters, you’re the most averse to exercise. even elain, thanks to her gardening, could likely outlift you. but –

“i don’t know if i should be offended that you’re so surprised.”

“hey, it’s not personal,” nesta replies, her voice softer as she glances around the room. the professor had resumed teaching and students were slowly returning their attention to their notes. “it’s just... unexpected. i mean, last time i suggested going for a jog, you looked at me like i’d grown a second head.”

“yeah, well, i just figured it’s about time i start taking better care of myself.”

“what brought this on all of a sudden?”

you shrug, trying to put your thoughts into words. “i guess i just realised that i’ve been neglecting my health lately. with school and everything else going on, i haven’t been feeling so great.”

nesta nods in understanding, letting you continue. neither of you really cared about this class, after all, and it wasn’t the first time you’d been called out for talking through a lecture.

“i just thought it might be a good way to clear my head, you know? like, a chance to zone out and focus on something other than deadlines and exams.”

“if you turn into a gym rat and only eat chicken and rice, i’m disowning you.”

“you’d have to pry ice cream from my cold, dead hands,” you say, nudging nesta with a grin. “nothing can take away my love of carbs and cheesy fries.”

“uh-huh, sure. that’s what they all say until they’re posting pictures of their meal prep on instagram.”

“you have no faith in me, do you?”

“none whatsoever,” she replies with a grin. “but hey, if this gym thing helps you feel better, i’m all for it.”

“if i ever mention a juice cleanse, you have full permission to stage an intervention.”

“deal. and if you lecture me on the importance of pre-workout supplements, i’m kicking you out of the apartment.”

after your year abroad, you found yourself back at the university of velaris, settling into a new rhythm with your three sisters. the four of you had decided to share an apartment, a decision fuelled by equal parts necessity and nostalgia. it wasn’t long before familiar routines took shape amidst the chaos of unpacked boxes and endless debates over furniture placement.

besides, feyre had been spending most of her time at her new boyfriend���s apartment, leaving a bit more breathing room for the rest of you. you hadn’t met him yet, but you’d heard he came from money and his penthouse had skyline views, so you could hardly blame her.

nesta wasn’t a fan, muttering something about “trust fund babies” under her breath whenever his name came up in conversation. but feyre seemed happy, and ultimately, that was what mattered most, even if a twinge of jealousy occasionally crept in.

“you should come with me.”

“i would rather die,” she snorts. “doesn’t mor work out? you should ask her.”

“no way, i’d look even more unfit next to her. i have some pride.”

“wow, so you ask me instead. you’re such a bitch,” she laughs.

as luck would have it, the gym was just a 10-minute walk away, conveniently offering a discounted price for students. the only downside was going alone.

“but i don’t know how to use the equipment,” you groan.

“and you think i do?” your sister retorts.

“well, no, but at least i wouldn’t look like the only idiot.”

“just find someone with muscles and ask them,” she suggests.

“right, of course, because i’m so great at talking to strangers.”

nesta raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “so, what’s your plan then? to stand in the corner and hope the smith machine starts talking to you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. you didn’t even know what a smith machine was until this morning.

nesta lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “stop being such a baby and put a cute workout outfit on. you’ll be fine.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you were very much not fine.

the blonde girl at the front desk, with her bouncing ponytail and bright smile that could probably power the entire gym, was very nice. she had given you a tour of the gym, showing you the rows of gleaming equipment and weight racks, and enthusiastically pointed out the array of classes available, from yoga and spin to high-intensity interval training.

she had, however, assumed you knew how to use everything, and you hadn’t been brave enough to correct her.

you had nodded along, trying to absorb the barrage of information she threw at you, but each machine seemed more complicated than the last, and you were positive some of them belonged in a medieval torture chamber. 

but you could do this. if guys who couldn’t even spell “midterm” could end up looking like greek statues, surely you could handle a single gym session. you were smart, you were pretty. everything was going to be just fine. besides, you had watched enough fitness influencers on social media to have a vague idea of what to do. with a deep breath, you reminded yourself that everyone had to start somewhere – or at least that’s what your therapist had told you.

deciding to start your session with something familiar, you made your way over to the row of treadmills. incline walking was hard to mess up. the downside was that it made you feel like you were dying.

thirty minutes later, you were profoundly regretting your decision as you clung to the handrails, legs burning with exertion. sweat had beaded on your forehead, and you couldn’t help but curse under your breath.

with shaky legs, you made your way to the weights, steeling yourself against the familiar wave of self-doubt. this part of the gym was always crowded with an excess of men flaunting their egos, their grunts and posturing only serving to make you feel even more out of place.

you think of nesta and how she would never let anyone make her feel small. she would have your head if she thought you would let any man intimidate you.

deep breaths. everything is fine.

as you attempt to adjust the resistance on the leg press machine, your fingers fumble over the pin that holds the weight stack in place, causing the plates to clang noisily against each other. flushed and annoyed, you would love nothing more than to slink away in embarrassment.

“here, let me.” he crouches beside you and effortlessly rectifies your problem as if you hadn’t been struggling for the past ten minutes.

oh god, he looked like he could go viral on tiktok or be on the front cover of a fitness magazine.

and he was helping you.

stay calm. just ignore the fact that this might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever met.

you couldn’t help but steal glances at the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric of his black compression shirt, each movement highlighting the definition of his arms and chest.

he was so pretty. you just hoped you didn’t look like you were dying.

“thanks,” you say, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended.

oh god, just breathe.

he flashes you a soft smile, “no problem. we’ve all been there.”

you’d like to say you committed to a gym membership for self-improvement.

(you would be lying.)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

before ever stepping foot in a gym, your taste in men was somewhat predictable.

you liked nerdy computer science guys you could play video games with and pretentious english lit students who gave you good book recommendations – the indoor sort.

they all tended to look like a light breeze could push them over. not the kind where you could steal their hoodies. and that was fine. you didn’t care, honest.

but then the cute guy at the gym completely ruined your usual type in men. you never imagined you’d be that into muscles, but he looked like he could toss you around like a rag doll, and you soon realised that you actually quite liked the thought.

you initially thought your crush would be harmless – glancing at him from across the room and playing out scenarios in your head.

but then he started offering to unload your plates, and showed you how different machines worked when you looked particularly confused. he would ask you to spot him, despite you both knowing you would be of zero help, and would refill your water bottle when he noticed it getting low.

he would even help to correct your form so you wouldn’t injure yourself.

that, however, had you so flustered you couldn’t even complete the full set. his hand grazing your waist made your heart pound so loudly, you were certain he could hear it. you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

you told him you had to leave early to finish your essay.

and then, like the gentleman he was, he had asked you about it the next time he saw you, and let you ramble about your major for far too long. the worst part was that he seemed genuinely interested.

you didn’t even know his name and yet you were pretty sure you wanted to have his babies.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you sure you really need protein powder?” elain questioned, picking up a bunch of celery for her green juices. “you can get all the vitamins and minerals you need from real food, you know.”

“but it’s so much easier to hit my protein goals with it,” you whined, clutching the tub of powder defensively.

“she’s only doing this because her crush drinks the same brand,” nesta teased, a sly grin spreading across her face as she tossed a box of granola into the cart.

“oh my god, keep your voice down,” you groaned, glancing around nervously. it was 10 pm on a wednesday. the grocery store was practically deserted, but you think you might cry if anyone overhears. “besides, it’s not just because of him. it’s practical!”

“practical,” nesta repeated, her grin widening. “sure, that’s the reason.”

“what’s his name again?" elain said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“i hate you,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up. you tried to focus on the nutrition label in front of you, but nesta’s laughter made it impossible.

“come on,” nesta said, nudging you playfully. “you’ve been pining over him for months. when are you going to actually talk to him?”

“never?”

“you should accidentally bump into him and spill your protein shake all over his expensive gym clothes. it would be a brilliant conversation starter.”

“please don’t jinx me.”

“oh, and then you could do his laundry as an apology, and he’d buy you a coffee because he thinks you’re pretty!” elain chimes in.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you’ve been working out long enough now that you knew the basics of gym etiquette. namely, don’t be creepy. a simple thing, really, but too many people struggled to act like sane, well-adjusted human beings capable of basic manners. it was as if the gym was some bizarre alternate universe where leggings made men’s brains short-circuit.

so you try very hard to not stare at your gym crush doing pull-ups.

but his biceps are flexing, his shirt is riding up, and you never knew you could be so attracted to someone’s back.

you feel like you’re twelve again – you want to write his name in a heart in your diary and talk about him for hours on the phone.

for the first time, however, you’re grateful you don’t know any concrete details about him. you would’ve stalked his social media, found out he had a girlfriend or horrible political opinions, and then cried yourself to sleep.

you’d really rather not know. hopeless yearning is much more to your taste.

but then he notices you across the room and smiles, and you realise your gym crush is very much not harmless.

you decide that you’ll be brave and actually initiate conversation for once.

a horrible idea, really.

“hey.”

“hey,” he responds.

“what are you listening to?” god, you didn’t think you were this awkward.

“oh, i don’t listen to music when i work out.”

“right, yeah, i totally get that.” you actually don’t understand that at all. the idea of exercising with just your thoughts sounds like a special kind of torture, but he doesn’t need to know that.

you fidget with the hem of your shorts, desperately searching for something else to say.

“so, uh, how’s your workout going?” he asks.

“it’s going okay,” you reply, the words tumbling out. “you?”

you want to disappear.

“yeah, it’s good too.” you swear you see a hint of pink in his cheeks, though it’s probably just from finishing his set.

your mind is blank and you have no idea what else to say. “great.”

you hope you look like you’re smiling and not grimacing.

this was quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had. you’re never speaking to a man again.

even if they are very pretty and look like they could pick you up without breaking a sweat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

getting ready with three other girls in a cramped apartment was always a challenge. you loved your sisters, but if feyre didn’t get away from the mirror, you would scream.

feyre, always meticulous with her makeup, was painstakingly perfecting her eyeliner, ignoring the sighs from nesta.

“can you possibly move any slower?” nesta hisses, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

you exchange a knowing look with elain, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling through her phone. she had opted to stay behind, and you were growing increasingly jealous of her decision.

“why don’t we just take turns?” you intervene, hoping to avoid a fight before you even got to the party. “feyre, you finish up, then nesta, and i’ll go last. sound fair?”

feyre finally steps away from the bathroom and nesta wastes no time in taking her place, muttering something about how she could do a better job in half the time.

feyre had been persistent about attending one of rhysand’s house parties for weeks now, and despite your and nesta’s reluctance, she had managed to wear you down. it wasn’t so much her persuasive arguments as it was the promise of free alcohol that ultimately swayed both of you. plus, you were a little curious. feyre had been gushing about her boyfriend for months now. 

as you stood in front of the mirror, giving yourself a final once-over, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. feyre, radiant in her navy dress, was practically buzzing with excitement. nesta looked as though she’d rather be doing anything else, despite begrudgingly admitting that the three of you looked good.

you had opted for a short, tight-fitted black dress. shocking how regularly going to the gym could actually help your confidence.

feyre led the way, practically dragging you and nesta out of the apartment. elain, now comfortably nestled on the couch with a book, waved you goodbye. “be safe, and don’t drink too much!”

“it’s so cute that you think i could survive the night without being drunk,” nesta laughs. 

the cool night air is a welcome change from the stuffy apartment as the three of you step outside to wait for the cab. feyre was already chattering about rhysand and his friends, while nesta had shot her a look that could wither plants.

you really needed a drink.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

rhysand’s apartment ended up being a thirty-minute drive away, nestled in the wealthier district of velaris, and you could see why feyre spent so much time here.

you could hear the music before you even enter, and it smells so strongly of alcohol you already feel a little lightheaded.

it can hardly be called an apartment in all honesty, it’s nicer than most houses and certainly surpasses anything you’ve ever stepped foot in before. it’s spacious, with an open layout that flows effortlessly from one room to the next. plush couches and chairs face a glass coffee table that is currently covered in red plastic cups and half-finished bottles of vodka. luckily, all his furniture was black. you winced at the thought of cleaning the stains that were bound to appear after tonight.

you noticed the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a pretty view of the city skyline, the twinkling lights stretching out like a blanket of stars against the night. you weren’t the jealous type, but you had the sudden urge to strangle feyre.

she had navigated the apartment with ease, her eyes alight with familiarity as she disappeared in search of rhysand. left to fend for yourselves, you and nesta exchanged a glance before setting off in the direction of the kitchen.

as you weave through the throng of people, you catch sight of mor, effortlessly manoeuvring between guests as she pours drinks. she seems completely at ease, flashing dazzling smiles and looking stunning as ever.

mor’s eyes light up with recognition as she spots you among the crowd. with a beckoning gesture, she calls you over. “i didn’t think you two would be here!” she seems genuinely happy to see you, despite only talking to her after class a couple of times.

“our sister is dating the host, so naturally, we’ve been dragged along,” you reply. “she’s off hunting him down now.”

mor’s gaze shifts between you and nesta, realisation crossing her features. “rhysand is actually my cousin,” she explains with a smile. “so, i’ve met feyre a few times now.”

“that’s unfortunate,” nesta laughs. you’re pretty sure she’s only half-joking.

you elbow her. “come on, don’t be mean. i don’t want to be kicked out after five minutes of being here.”

“are you sure? we could go get pizza and ice cream and not wake up feeling like we were hit by a car?”

“are you seriously the voice of reason right now?”

“hey, if you’re going to the gym, then i can be a responsible adult.”  

mor perks up, her eyes brightening with interest. “you work out?”

you smile sheepishly, “i only started a few months ago.”

“you should join me sometime!” mor suggests eagerly. “i usually go with rhysand and a few others, but one of them hasn’t shown up in ages. it’d be great to have another girl!”

“speaking of which, i should introduce you to them,” mor adds with a grin before calling out, “azriel! cassian! get over here!”

and then you spot who is walking over.

“mor, what’s up?” a very familiar voice asks.

because, you realise, it’s your gym crush. it’s the guy you’ve been pining over for months.

your brain is really struggling to comprehend that he’s here, and he knows mor, and apparently rhysand?

has he met feyre too?

he’s wearing all black, like usual, and his biceps look even better in this lighting, and oh god, you want to melt into the ground before you somehow think of a new way to embarrass yourself.

your mind is racing a hundred miles per hour and you’re suddenly realising you’re going to have to avoid feyre’s boyfriend forever if he’s friends with him and – 

and as your eyes meet his, and realisation flickers across his features, you’re really wishing you had stayed at home with elain.

or vanish into thin air. that works too.

“az, these are feyre’s sisters!” mor’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

you’ve finally learnt his name, you suppose, but you’re pretty sure you’ll have to find a new gym.

#azriel #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #modern au #acotar x reader #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #feysand #elain archeron #cassian #acotar #sarah j maas #sjm #rhysand #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #velaris

[thatnewweeb]

Baby Fever | My Hero Academia

Characters | Bakugo Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Toya, Kirishima Eijiro

CW | mentions of pregnancy, suggestive content, reader agreeing to get pregnant, kinda jealousy in Bakugo's, kinda pressure in Midoriya's (from his mom) but also wanting it too

A/N | I love the idea of the boys having baby fever (even though not all of these are them having baby fever), I just think it's so cute

Bakugo Katsuki

Deku was having a kid?!

Katsuki was stunned as he held his phone to his ear, listening to his childhood friend and perpetual rival talking excitedly about the news his wife recently gave him. His grip tightens on the phone as he listens to the green haired man on the other side of the phone gushing about how excited he is.

As soon as Izuku hangs up, he calls out to you, his own wife. When you walk into the room, he walks over to you quickly, long strides leaving him stood very close to you, his arms caging you against the wall.

The look you give as you look up at him makes him smile softly, biting his lower lip a little. He tells you the news about Izuku's first child being on the way, which of course makes you excited, happy for your friends.

"We should have a baby too," he smirks slightly, whispering into your ear. When you give him a surprised, slightly confused look, he smirks, leaning down to kiss you. "C'mon, babe. I can't let that bastard get that far ahead of me. Gonna help me keep up?"

There's no way you could possibly say no when he speaks and looks at you like that. There's no time wasted in trying, him immediately taking you to your shared bed. He can't let that bastard Deku get too far ahead after all, can he?

Todoroki Shoto

Shoto was never really sure if he wanted to have a child or not. He didn't have the best childhood, and he was scared that he would end up being a bad parent.

He was still scared of that, he couldn't deny it, but when you're cuddling with him on the couch, watching television, he can't help but consider the idea whenever a child actor comes on the screen.

This weird feeling had been following him for months now. He found himself doing things he wouldn't usually, resting his hand on your stomach more when you're cuddling, imagining you clinging onto him, heavily pregnant and somehow looking more beautiful than ever.

He had no idea you were also having these thoughts. You hadn't brought it up because you knew he was a little hesitant about the idea. You figured you'd wait for him to bring up the topic first so he doesn't feel pressured, but now, every part of your being aching for a baby, you know you just can't wait any longer.

On one of his days off, you walk up to your fiancé and tell him to put a baby in you. The look on his face is both cute and hilarious. Despite how demanding your initial request was, the two of you sit and talk for a while, getting both of your feelings out there.

When you both agree that you both definitely want a baby, you decide you'll start trying as soon as the wedding is over.

Midoriya Izuku

It had been 4 months since you and Izuku had gotten married in a beautiful ceremony in front of your family and closest friends. Both your groom and your new mother-in-law cried a lot.

Speaking of Izuku's wonderful mother, you were visiting her one day, as you and your husband typically do at least once a week. You absolutely don't mind doing this, I mean it when I say Inko is wonderful, and that includes to you. She fully welcomed you into her little family.

"So, when am I getting a grandchild?"

The question comes out of nowhere, Izuku choking on the water he unfortunately happened to be drinking. "Mom!"

"What?" she asks with a smile. "You've been married for a little while now, surely that's the next step, right?"

Izuku laughs nervously, glancing at you briefly and squeezing your hand. "We don't know when that'll be happening yet."

The entirety of the rest of the time you spend at Inko's home that day, he can't take his mind off what his mom said. He hadn't really even thought about it since you got married, content with his life the way it is now. Now an idea has been planted in his head.

When you're back in the car, driving back to your own house, Izuku interrupts you while you're speaking (he didn't mean to, he was just so deep in thought that he didn't even realise you were talking). He asks if you want to have a baby, and it takes you almost no time to say you do.

Todoroki Toya

There's nothing you could think of that triggered your baby fever. You just wanted a baby, and you wanted one bad. You know your boyfriend will be a good dad, even if he doesn't seem to believe it.

He doesn't seem to believe that he has any kind of soft side. The big idiot obviously doesn't realise the way he acts with you, and you know that he'll be similar with your baby.

He wasn't even considering the idea before you brought it up to him. You weren't exactly subtle about it either, practically jumping on him and telling him to give you his baby. The demand shocks him, but there's something about hearing it come from your mouth that made him want it, made him feel like it would be okay for that to happen. He trusts you, and if that's what you think is best and what you want, he'll give you that.

There is no time wasted, Toya happily spending the rest of the night making sure that you'll get his baby as soon as possible.

Kirishima Eijiro

Eijiro has always liked kids, he thinks they're just adorable! How could he not like them? Being a pro hero means that there are so many children that look up to him, and it isn't an unusual occurrence for him to be swarmed by young fans while he's on patrol.

The baby fever really kicks in for him when a family of three come up to him while he's out on patrol, an excited baby babbling in his mother's arms as he reaches out towards the hero.

The baby's mother explains to him that he's her son's favourite hero. He always smiles and babbles and points whenever Red Riot is on television. It goes without saying that hearing that makes your boyfriend's soft heart melt.

As soon as they leave, he decides he'll have to bring this up with you as soon as he gets back to you. He's known for a while that he wants a baby, but after that reaction, he knows he has to bring it up to you.

Of course, he does bring it up to you very quickly when he gets home after patrol is over. It's pretty much the first thing he says to you when he walks through the door, picking you up and spinning you around when you agree to start trying. He wastes no time in starting to try for a baby with you.

#mha #my hero academia #bakugo #bakugou #todoroki #midoriya #kirishima #dabi #dabi imagine #kirishima imagine #midoriya imagine #todoroki imagine #bakugo imagine #bakugou imagine #mha imagines #bakugo x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #dabi x reader #kirishima x reader

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Could you write a tall dom hero x a short villain thing? I love that kind of thing lol, if not its fine though.🔥

“You’re not hurt, are you?” the hero whispered. They pressed the villain gently against the wall, as if they still tried to trap them. The villain swallowed. Suddenly, their tongue was really heavy.

“…no.”

“Are you sure?” the hero asked. They looked around as they lowered their voice and leaned closer against their nemesis. “No injuries?”

“I’m okay,” the villain said. They tried desperately not to look too intimidated.

Being saved by a hero was humiliating enough already but being saved by their nemesis? The villain couldn’t even look at that muscular and tall body that was pressing them against the brick wall as softly as possible. They couldn’t even think about that heroic nemesis that had come to save them from a deal gone terribly wrong.

The villain’s face was burning. The hero had been haunting them for months now. They weren’t save, not even in their dreams.

The hero was like a ghost that followed them around and put some dangerous thoughts into their head. Ridiculous.

“I had everything under control, by the way,” the villain clarified.

“Oh, yeah I saw that. Really looked like you were on top of your game with all those people shooting at you,” the hero mused. They cocked their head.

Curse them. They knew exactly how attractive they were.

“Yes. I don’t need you to save me.”

“Why not? This is fun.”

“Oh, please, you—” Suddenly, the hero leaned down and the villain felt their chest press against theirs.

“Keep your voice down, darling. There’s still a bunch of bad guys walking around here,” they whispered against the villain’s ear.

Hell, their lips even brushed against the villain’s ear, leaving their nervous system a little too excited.

“Maybe I should use this opportunity to search for any weapons on you, hm?” The hero traced the villain’s jawline with their index finger and a grin on their face. “Who knows what you’re hiding in your pants?”

It was cruelty. It was demonic.

The villain was clearly embarrassed and yet, the hero continued with the teasing. It didn’t seem very heroic to the villain, not at all.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving me,” the villain mumbled. Although they were unharmed, they had been scared for their life back then. They supposed thanking the hero wasn’t unreasonable.

They could feel their heart punching against their ribcage.

“Oh?” The hero looked them up and down.

“Yeah. Thank you.” The villain took in a deep breath, trying to steady their voice. “It’s quite sweet of you.”

“Gosh, you’re adorable.” The hero chuckled softly. “To be honest, I was really looking forward to seeing you today. I was getting quite nervous when I couldn’t find you.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m not exactly hiding that I have a crush on you, am I?” Again, the hero tilted their head and the villain could feel their ears burn. Those dimples. That smirk. Those eyes.

“Oh…ehm—”

“Don’t worry. I’ll woo you the proper way. You deserve more than dirty play against a wall.” Their hand found the villain’s hip as they leaned forward again to continue their whispers. “Now, let’s get out of here. You look like you need some water.”

They weren’t wrong about that.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask

[magics-neptunes-things]

Forever

Hi guys!

You were waiting for this one for a long time but it's finally here! This is Luna's elopement fic.

As always, this is a fiction, so it's purely coming from my mind. Please enjoy this one and tell me what you thought about it!

TW : None, I think. Maybe a little of chaos.

Lucy is tired, like bloody tired. Her and her team just won the cup of the Champions League yesterday and she’s still hungover from the party last night. She regretted bitterly her choice of drink this morning when the alarm went on, asking her to get up to get on the bus and then the plane. They had to be in Barcelona in the afternoon to present the cup at all the Cùlers and for some random talking with people in suit.

She’s not as hungover as Cata though, the woman practically snoring during the ceremony, much to her friends’ amusement.

To distract herself during the speeches that she finds rather annoying, Lucy is looking at her girlfriend. Standing right in front of her, Ona seems to be listening for the people who don’t know her, but Lucy knows better. Ona’s eyes are a little off, but Lucy can’t say if it’s because she’s bored or because she’s in pain.

The cuts she had because of her fall on their opponent’s boot is sharp, she needed three stitches on her cheek. The other one is way to close to her eyes to do anything. Lucy feels the bile running up her throat every time she remembers that her girlfriend could have lost an eye that night.

The English woman frowns when she sees Ona rubbing her injured eye, the scarring itching terribly. But the team’s doctors clearly specified that Ona should touch her eye as little as possible for a quick and optimal recovery.

“Ona” Lucy gently scolds her.

The younger pouts and crosses her arms on her breast, making Lucy smiles softly. She can’t wait to go home, find their dogs and sleep for the next three days before she has to go to national camp in England.

Thanks God they stop soon to talk, and Lucy is relieved to be able to go home. She even grabs Ona’s bags and push her in the direction of her car when they are released. Ona laughs slightly but let her do, looking for her keys in her pocket while Lucy puts their bag in the car.

“What do you think you're doing, Batlle?” Lucy tsk her when Ona sits behind the wheel.

“Going home?” Ona frowns.

“Get out of here. I’m the one driving, you almost lost an eye.”

“Lucia I can drive.”

Ona is sulking and Lucy rolls her eyes. The Catalan girl is the nicest and sweetest person in the world, but Lucy swears that she never met someone as suborn as her girlfriend. Which she likes very much, even if she sometimes seems to forget that she needs to take care of her.

“Sure Cyclops. Let’s sit on the passenger’s seat yeah?”

Ona frowns harder and try to make her girlfriend changes her mind, but she realizes soon that she doesn’t stand a chance. Lucy usually gets Ona what she wants, but not if she knows that it isn’t good for Ona.

The drive home is long, the journey who is usually thirty minutes is far from being finish and yet they only made several kilometers in one hour and an half.

“You can sleep if you want, Bonita” Lucy says softly at her girlfriend.

Ona was lost in the contemplation of the streets, but she turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a soft smile.

“I know. I prefer enjoying my time with you though. I three days we will be separated again.”

Lucy smiles softly, very carefully stroking Ona’s face. The wound looks better than yesterday but it still seems hurtful. But Ona isn’t the kind of girl to complain about anything.

“You’ll be careful with that beautiful face of yours, yeah?”

Ona hums only. She doesn’t want to have a big, awful and permanent scar on her face, but they don’t really let them be gentle during Spanish camp.

“I asked Alexia to keep an eye on you anyway.”

Ona whines, much to Lucy’s amusement. She knows what she was doing when she asked that to Alexia, their captain will be around Ona during all the camp, probably snapping her hand away every time Ona will want to scratch her face.

“How can you do that to me?” Ona groans.

“I did it because I love you” Lucy smiles, rolling her eyes.

“You definitively don’t love me as much as you say. If it was right, you would never betray me this way.”

“You are so dramatic” Lucy laughs softly.

“All that I’ll retain from this conversation is that I love you more than you love me.”

“That’s not true” Lucy frowns.

“It is. I’m the one who love you the most but that’s ok.”

With a satisfy smile, Ona shrugs before taping Lucy’s hand on her thigh. This discussion is going again and again between them, a childish and sweet fight that none of them want to give up.

“Ok” Lucy says after several seconds of silence. “If you love me so much, marry me.”

There is another moment of silence.

“Qué?”

Ona is looking at her girlfriend with wide eyes, seriously asking herself if Lucy lost her mind. But Lucy is looking at her seriously.

“Are you still drunk?” Ona asks, arching an eyebrow.

“No. I am very serious, Ona. I love you. I know you are the love of my life. You are the one I want to finish my life with, I’ve never be so sure about anything in my whole life. I don’t have a ring, but I’ll change that as soon as possible. I want to marry you.”

This is unreal for Ona. Of course, she already thought about marrying Lucy one day, because she’s sure that Lucy is the love of her life too. Lucy flipped her life upside down, in the best way possible. The situation is unreal, but the answer she gives seems to be as much.

“Ok”

“Yes? Will you marry me?”

“Yes” Ona smiles softly.

Even if this isn’t the most convenient marriage proposal, there still is some tears in Lucy’s eyes. And the smile she gives to Ona makes Ona’s heart fluttered. But then, Lucy is suddenly turning on the road, taking the opposite street of their apartment.

“Lucy what are you doing?”

“We are going to the airport, taking the next plane for Las Vegas. I want to marry you right now.”

“What? But Lucy the dogs? Our parents are going to kill us!”

“Coco and Narla can stay a little longer to your parents. And we will make a ceremony with everyone in several days. I just don’t want to pass another day without you being called my wife.”

The tender smile Ona gives her talk for her. She wrote to her parents to ask them to keep the dogs a little bit longer, explaining that Lucy and her are taking surprised holidays. She doesn’t say why and where though.

While Lucy is looking for a place on the parking, Ona is looking at the first plane leaving for Las Vegas. She managed to find one leaving in five hours, choosing to be in business class, after all they are getting married, right? They let their suitcases from the game in the car, choosing to buy new clothes in the airport. And because they are in business class, they have the lounge and the possibility to take a shower before landing.

Their seats are next to each other on the plane, but when they are on the sky, Ona chooses to escalate the wall between them to sit next to Lucy. Well, on Lucy. In the darkness of the plane and night, they cannot be seen from anyone, not that their embrace has anything looking like Pegi 18 anyway. Lucy just had passed her hand under Ona’s shirt to stroke her back and they are under a cover.

“Lucy?” whispers Ona.

It’s dark and quiet, people around them are sleeping or watching a movie from the television in front of them.

“What is it, Bonita?” Lucy whispers in answer.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We still can enjoy our time in Las Vegas, we are not forced to get married if you want to change your mind.”

“Are you scared?” Lucy smiles.

“No” Ona answers, putting her head again on Lucy’s shoulder. “I’m only scared that you will regret it the next morning.”

“Never.”

To add power to her answer, Lucy squeezes her harder against her, making Ona smile. She then kisses her hair, even if the shampoo she used isn’t the same one she’s using daily. Her natural scent is still here though, Lucy loves to think that Ona smell like sun, sand, and holidays.

Lucy smiles when she sees Ona yawning, the last days were chaotic. They were great, but very tiring and they haven’t many times to rest. They sleep a lot during the long trip, catching their lake of sleep, before landing to Philadelphia to take another plane.

“People are wondering where we are going” Ona smiles while looking at her messages during their stopover to Philadelphia.

“Tell them Lesbos Island” Lucy answer, looking at Ona’s phone above her shoulder.

Ona rolls her eyes and bite in the croissant she received during the journey. It’s not as good as the one she had in France, but still ok for an empty stomach.

“People are going to be wild when they’ll know” Lucy adds soon after. “How do you think we can say it to them?”

“If we want to keep the clichés, we can send them a picture of us next to a fake Elvis.”

********

They arrive at Las Vegas after several more hours, choosing one of the most expensive suites in the hotel Ona likes the most – The Venetian. Even if the younger one tried to protest, Lucy makes her shut with only one gaze.

“This is wild” Ona mumbles, looking at the view they have from it.

They are on the 36th floor and can see almost everything around. She lost herself in the contemplation of the streets and the lights, while Lucy is busy turning of the air conditioning who is always making her sick, after what she says.

She then takes several seconds to look at Ona, who turned her back at her. She’s smiling while looking at the smaller one. Even if it’s look like a whim, she knows what she’s doing. She was thinking about proposing to Ona for several weeks now, she wanted to do things right with a sweet proposal and everything. She still can make the surprise to Ona when she got the ring.

She is so in love with Ona.

She is so in love and is going to marry her.

It’s sometimes scary for Lucy to admit to herself how much her happiness depends of that wonderful and beautiful girl in front of her. She doesn’t understand how someone like Ona can be interested in her.

Sure, Lucy knows that a lot of people fancy her, she’s not stupid. But she’s older than Ona and she won’t be able to play football for as long as Ona would. But when she talked about it to Ona, the younger girl just smirk and answer that she would like this has a lot of time to choose her clothes for her wagging era.

Feeling a rush of love for the girl in front of her, Lucy breaks the distance between them in three big strides, before embracing Ona from behind.

“What if you’re the one regretting this tomorrow?” Lucy asks quietly, for once letting out some form of vulnerability.

“I won’t” Ona answers.

Her tone is so sure that there is no reason for Lucy to doubt about it. Ona turns around in Lucy’s arms, passing hers around Lucy’s neck.

“T'estimaré per tota la vida” she whispers, before kissing Lucy softly. (I’ll love you for all my life)

Lucy’s progresses in Catalan are prodigious, thanks to her personal teacher, which allows her to easily understand what Ona has just whispered against her lips. She doesn’t have time to answer though, carried away by the extent of Ona’s kiss.

“Is it a way not to leave this room and not to get married, miss Batlle?”

“I can’t believe we’ve done it” Ona mumbles, looking at the pictures on her phone.

They are on their way back to Barcelona, after a stop at Dallas this time. They haven’t said anything to anyone about their marriage, like Lucy said, they will make a ceremony for their families and Lucy even planned a way to offer a magic proposal to Ona with the ring she will find in Barcelona.

She looked for jewelry in Barcelona when Ona fell asleep in her arms after having celebrated their wedding.

“Still no regret?” Lucy whispers, looking at Ona’s phone above the armrest between them.

“Never.”

A sweet smile is on Ona’s face when she looks at her girlfr… wife. Even if they have to make the contract acknowledged in Spain. They are travelling during the day this time and people are obviously more up than during the first fly. Lucy sulks when she realizes that Ona won’t be able to join her on her seat like before, but then Ona grabs her hand and never let it go since. She can live with that.

“I always thought that the big Elvis' was a myth to be honest” Lucy comments when she sees the photo where they are posing next to him. “It was like a movie.”

“Yeah. I liked that movie though; the first actress is hot” Ona smirks.

“The Spaniard with the scar? Yes. Hot and badass.”

********

When Lucy’s back from the England Camp, Ona had the time to make their marriage contract recognized. She went back home from the camp after deciding that it was better for her face that way. She was sad not to be able to play with Leila again, but it was safer that way. She went to training with Patri and Mapi and passed time with Narla and Coco.

She went to take Lucy from the airport and Lucy already started to look for the right ring. She looked for several days before making the choice to have it custom-made. Lucy wants it to be perfect.

They managed to keep the secret for now, the only difference is that Lucy calls Ona “Wifey” at home now and that they can’t keep their hands away of each other. They are not making out in public, but they are impossible to separate. And when they are on each side of one room, they keep look and smile at each other.

“Can you please stay focus and stop drooling on Ona for a second, Bronze?” Mariona asks, hitting Lucy behind her head.

“I’m not drooling” Lucy frowns, showing Mariona away.

“You are” Mariona laughs.

But then Mario’s laugh drags Ona’s attention – who was talking with Salma and Jana - and she smirks at Lucy who kind of forgot why she’s supposed to be mad at her friend. The calm of the room is suddenly broken by a roar coming from Alexia’s voice as soon as she enters it.

“LUCIA ROBERTA TOUGH BRONZE!”

Lucy jumps and look at their captain like a teenager in trouble without knowing what she did bad. But the blonde came right in front of Lucy with a paper, the room suddenly quiet.

Lucy gets pale when she sees the sheet and Ona doesn't need longer explanations to understand what it is. However, Alexia doesn't hesitate to give more details.

“I was helping the administrative team to make the papers for our next trip, and they told me about this funny mistake, like they said. I did my research and it’s look like it isn’t actually a mistake. So will you please tell me why and how in the world it is written black on white that you are married to Ona Batlle Pascual?”

Ona makes a grimace when she feels almost all the eyes on the room going on her. It isn’t the way she wanted to tell people, but she can see Mapi from the corner of her eyes who seems to have the time of her life.

“You choose Lucy, Oni? What about us?” Jana jokes, but she is suddenly silent when she crosses Alexia’s eyes.

“Come on Ale’, what was I supposed to do? Ask you before asking her?” Lucy rolls her eyes.

“Well at least. Then I would have refused and took Ona on a secret island” Alexia groans.

“Your kids are growing up, Alexia, get over it” Irene says, patting Alexia shoulders. “Ask Pina about her love life, you’ll be stunned” she adds, before leaving the room.

“WHAT?!”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #woso one shot #lucy and ona #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

[li0nn3stuff]

Kiddo

Chapter eight

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: obsession, kissing, manipulation•

Two months and three weeks after the encounter.

“Jenny is trying to steal my phone every time, I think she wants one too, but our mother doesn’t want to buy her one yet.” She said as she played with the string of grass. “She opens my messages, look at the gallery” She sighs. 

Aemond looked at her, half lying on the grass beside her.

“She did?” He didn’t like it, he didn’t like the idea of her foster sister looking at their chat. “Remind me, how old is she?” 

“She’s seven.” 

He understood pretty early the reason why she was so naive and innocent. She lived in a house full of kids that knew nothing about relationships or sex. She had told him how she basically babysits them all the time when she’s home, because their foster mother is always at work.

“Do you have a password on your phone?” He asked then. 

“No, I never thought I needed one.” She smiled at him.

What he didn’t like even more, is the idea that Jenny would tell their foster mother who he was, if she’d ever find out.

He was sure their foster mother would try to separate them, because while his girl didn’t understand how inappropriate their friendship was, her mother would know it.

She would try to talk some sense into his girl, make her understand that he was too old, that he was probably using, and manipulating her.

Half of it was true.

But he was doing it for her.

Since they reconciled, he had been able to think with a clearer mind, and he understood that he struggled to control himself when he was around her, but if he would have been without her, he would definitely lose it, to a point where he realized how dangerous he could be.

He leant forward and grabbed her soft tiny hand in his. stroking her palm with his thumb.

“We are sticking together.” He states. She looks at him surprised by his comment out of contest.

“Of course. We are best friends, Aem.” She smiled, blushing as she squeezed his hand. Best friend.

He chuckled and nodded. 

She really was something.

“I know, kiddo, I know. Just making sure.” He smirked at her. “Come here.” He pulled her to him, so she could snuggle in his chest as he hugged her thigh, both now laying on the grass.

He needed a fine dose of her to keep himself calm. He started to have her close to him, a bit of her every day, a slight touch, a hug, a small innocent peck.

Something.

Not enough to make him explode, but enough to sedate him.

Enough, to not fuck her raw on every surface they where whenever they met.

“Aem…” Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, kiddo?” He fixed her head under his chin, the pleasant smell of her hair reaching his nose.

“Your phone is ringing, it’s the fourth time now…” She told him softly. He let out a low groan, realizing she was right, and that his phone was indeed ringing in his pocket

“It’s okay, let it ring.” He said, letting out a sigh as he started playing with a string of her hair. “Why don’t you answer it?” She asks curiously, looking at him.

“Nothing important.” He responded calmly, rubbing her hair between his fingers.

“Are you sure? Who is it?” She kept asking further, but despite he usually never liked people asking of his own business, he didn’t mind her curiosing.

“My mother.” He admitted.

“Your mother? Then… it’s probably important, Aem, you should pick up the phone.” She told him concerned.

“No, she–” He sighed. “She wants me to hire my brother.” He explained in annoyance. He did tell her he’d think about it, but he actually never changed his mind, he would never hire Aegon.

“What’s the problem with that? Wouldn’t it be nice to have him at work?” She smiled, as if she had the image in her head.

“Let’s say my brother is a lot like… Colin.” He looked down at her, smiling amused, comparing Aegon to one of her little foster brothers, Coling, was a chaos in particular, and she struggled a lot to keep him in control.

“Oh–” She chuckled a bit. “I’m sorry then.” She looked at him, caressing his arm in comprehension.

“Yeah, I can’t really trust him to work with money.” He looked to the side, sitting back up leaning back on his hands and bending his knees, making her sit as well. She crossed her legs and leant back on her hands. Her wavy cream dress covered her to her knees.

“You could take him, I believe. Your brother… you mean the older one, right? He’s an adult, I believe you could teach him some sense and responsibility.” She suggested as she took a string of grass to play with it.

“Teach Aegon?” He laughed. “You can’t understand, kiddo, he is a lost hope.”

“I believe in you, I think you could make it.” She smiled at him, excited.

"You trust me that much, mh?” He looked at her. He knew she did, but it felt so good to hear it.

“You know I do. You just have to make him care about what he does.” She blushed, refusing to look at him.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll do it.” He said then, making her raise her head surprised, looking at him with her eyes widened.

“Really?” She said happy. He nodded, smiling amused at her silly excitement over something so futile. She sat on her knees to get closer to him, and let the string of grass fall on the ground to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you know what? I just got an idea.” He looked down at her hands caressing his own.

“What?” She was looking at him with those big eyes of hers, and God, he loved to have them on himself.

“I just found what you can do to make me forgive you.” He looked at her as he said that. She immediately furrowed her eyebrows and blushed violently.

“I– I thought you already forgave me.” She says as she starts biting her lower lip. He glanced at her lips for a brief moment, even if she was looking at him and she noticed. She blushed even more and looked down at the ground.

“Yeah, but it has to be more official.” He explained as he leant closer and raised her head by moving his hand under her chin. She nodded slowly, her teeth still nibbling her lip.

“Alright then, what can I do?” She looked up at him.

“Two things, but one is more for you actually.” He smirked, proud of his plan.

“Really?” She asked, confused and surprised. She moved closer to him.

“Yeah, you want to hear them?” He liked to see her so eager to know what he was thinking. He knew he had to go slower with her, and not repeat what happened at his apartment to not scare her away again.

“Yeah, I’m all ears.” She smiled.

“Well, one, I’ll keep you company after you babysit, yeah? You tell me when the kids will be asleep, so you won’t be alone. I’ll leave before your mother will be back.” She immediately smiled at his proposal.

“Yeah, that’s sweet.” She said softly, looking at him with gratefulness.

“But what will get you forgiven is…” He pulled her closer, not being able to resist the occasion of having her near, and so he could look at her face.

“A kiss, whenever I ask you one.” He looked down at her, studying her reaction.

“A kiss? We already kiss!” She chuckled, as Aemond looked at her amused.

“Not those kisses, kiddo. I want them on my lips.” He whispered as he leant even closer, caressing her cheeks softly.

Her breath hitched and she had some trouble finding something to say.

“A– A k–kiss on t–the lips? A–Aemond I..” She stuttered as she shook her head in confusion.

“It’s not that bad, kiddo is it? Does the idea of kissing me disgust you?”

“What?! No! No, Aemond–” She immediately answered, but he interrupted her again,  as he gripped both of her cheeks in his hand.

“Then you don’t want to be forgiven?” He asked then, his grip on her cheeks tightening slightly.

“No! I– I want to be forgiven, Aem, I’m really sorry for how I’ve behaved, I never meant to hurt you and… I–” Her eyes started to get filled with tears as she started panicking.

“Shh, shh, kiddo I know.” He pulled her to sit between his legs, hugging her close. “I know you’re sorry.” He repeated soothingly as he tightened his embrace and caressed her back. She immediately hugged him back, holding on to him.

“I’ll do it.” She mumbled with her face hidden in his neck. I’ll do it, please forgive me.” She sobbed.

“I will, kiddo, I will.” He raised her head and wiped her tears away. “Stop crying, I’m staying here. Okay?”

She looked at him and nodded, sadness still evident in her eyes. He smiled at her as he moved her hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ears and he pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“Why don’t you kiss me now, so you’ll find out if you like it? Mh?” She moved her head to the side, but he used his hands to turn her back to him. “Maybe you’ll end up loving it.” She looked at him and nodded. He smiled as he kept caressing her face. She put her hands on her higher thigh, as he sweetly kissed her temple.

Gently. He had to do it gently.

He kept kissing her face from her temple to her cheek, leaving a wet trail behind. He heard her discontinued breathing as she clenched her hands on his thigh.

“Put your hands on my shoulder kiddo.” He suggested her as he pulled back enough to see her eyes. She nodded and moved her hands to his chest then placed them on his shoulders, squeezing them lightly. He smiled at her as drew her closer.

“Do you like this? Do not lie.” He asked her as he rubbed her back and kissed her chin.

“I–I never lie…” She pouted for a moment, making him chuckle. “I… I like this.” She admitted blushing again.

He crushed his lips against hers.

He wanted to go softer, gentler, but how could he, especially after she finally admitted she is enjoying his attention?

She gasped and leant back her head, surprised by his sudden gesture. He slipped both his hands in her hair, keeping her close, as she tightened her grip on his shoulders.

“You're addicting, kiddo.” He whispered so lowly, he almost wished she couldn’t hear his slip.

He pulled back and smirked as she saw her with her eyes closed, trying to reach his lips again, before she opened them and looked at him, her head turning red tomato.

“Was it bad?” He smirked and pulled her immediately back as she moved to sit further from him. He wrapped one arm around her back as his other hand caressed her cheek again.

“Tell me, kiddo, did you like it or not?” He asked her again, looking at her as she shied away pursing her lips, not wanting to answer his question.

“Don’t you want to let me know if I did well, mh?” The hand on her cheek slipped again in her har, as he massaged her scalp with his fingers.

“I– I did…” She mumbles softly, embarrassed. He smiled even more as he pressed his forehead on her temple so he could whisper in her ear.

“Do you want more kisses?” He asked her, feeling her shiver at the idea. “I don’t mind, we can, kiddo, we are free.”

She turned her head towards him, so that they were face to face, forehead against forehead.

She pressed her lips together, thinking hardly, as she stared at his lips.

That sight of her, could make his cock hard in a moment.

But he contained himself. He gave her her time, waited for her to move first.

“Free?” She repeated, wanting to be sure that he was telling her the truth. He closed his eye and pressed his forehead against her.

“Free, kiddo.”  He opened his eye again, and saw her look up at him, leaning forward a moment, but then going back. At last, she decided, and she pressed her lips against his, like if she was giving him a peck on his lips. Aemond smiled and moved his lips to make her open her mouth so that he could finally slip his tongue in her mouth, tasting her again after a week. He groaned and pushed himself more against her, making her back up.

“My sweet kiddo.” He groaned as he pushed her back even more, he wanted to make her lay on the grass, and get on top of her.

He wanted to touch her, but he restrained himself.

He wanted to take all of her on the grass, under the sunset, here in the open air where no one could hear them, and he could make her yell as much as he wanted to.

That would be such a sweet way to take her virginity.

But he did not allow himself to touch her, or he was sure he would have not stopped at her request, and as much as appealing all of his thoughts were, he couldn’t.

Once they were both lying, he rested one of his arms over her head as his other arm took her hand and intertwined their fingers, hoping to resist the urge to touch her body.

He kept kissing her like a mad man, biting her lower lip slowly, just like he wanted to do when he saw her earlier bite her own lip. He nibbled it between his teeth, pulling it slightly, making her moan. He smirked and let go of her.

“Make that sound again for me.” He kissed her again devouring her, as he kept squeezing harder her hand, in a way he knew was starting to hurt her, but he couldn’t stop kissing her, so he tried to not squeeze her hand too much.

She suddenly pulled away from him, making him furrow his eyebrows, he pulled her back into another kiss, but she turned her head again, rolling or her stomach.

“I lost track of the time!” She explained, worried, reaching her phone on the grass close to them. Aemond groaned, letting her go but keeping still on top of her. He leant his head down, resting her forehead on the back of her head, as at her every move her bum brushed dangerously his crotch. 

“I gotta go, Aemond, my brothers and sisters will be back in a few minutes…” She explained to him, saddened, looking back at him.

He growled and kissed her shoulder, rolling on her side then getting up.

“Yeah, let’s go, kiddo, I’ll drive you home.” He gave her his hand and she grabbed it to lift herself up as well, so he pulled her against his chest again kissing the top of his head, making her chuckle embarrassedly and blush.

He smirked, amused by her ever consistent shyness and rubbed the top of her head as he started walking to his car, a few meters from them.

They walked to the car in silence, but it was fine, they always had a comfortable silence between them. Sometimes when she called him during work and he was in his office, they talked for a while, then they just stayed on call in silence, just enjoying knowing that the other was there.

They got in the car and she watched outside her window, mesmerized by the sight of nature.

“How’s your little garden, kiddo?” He asked as he glanced at her.

“Colin took half of the tomatoes off before they were ready.” She sighed. “But I managed to stop him in time. My lemon tree is about to give me three lemons, I think I’ll make some jam or a pie.” She smiled at him. ”I’ll surely bring you some of those.” 

“We’ll eat it together.” He nodded as they quickly arrived at her house. He stopped the car and looked at her, then he quickly got down and went to open her door.

She got out chuckling and jumped up in front of him.

“My mother will be working late next week…” She blushed as she looked up at him. “I’ll text you the day and the time?” She looked at him, hopeful. Aemond smirked and caressed her cheek.

“Of course, kiddo.” He assured her, and she smiled happily.

“Alright then…” She looked to the side for a moment, then she suddenly turned and gave him a quick peck on his lips, leaving him stunned as she ran away chuckling.

“I’ll text you!” She laughed as she ran smiling toward her house, looking back at him.

He’ll never let her go.

He would get rid of anyone who might try to get between them.

There was no way someone would ever steal such a sight from him.

Her hair swayed at every step she took, her dress skirt moving in waves.

He stared at her until he was no longer able to see her. He lit himself a cigarette and turned, acknowledging a person standing a few meters from him.

“Are you looking for someone?” A woman, over middle age,  her hair a mix of blonde, white and gray strings.

“No.” He said coldly, annoyed to have been caught. “Just looking for a holiday farm, guess I picked the wrong turn.” He gave a quick, plausible explanation, enough to not make her suspicious about him.

“Yeah, it happens a lot.” She turned and pointed to another house, distant but visible from where they were. “You’re probably looking for that holliday farm? You take that way, then you turn left, then all straight.” She explained to him. He nodded in comprehension.

“Thank you, have a good night.” He got in his car and quickly drove off, looking at the rearview mirror to see if the woman stood there looking at him.

She got back in her car, and drove home.

Her home.

She was her foster mother.

Now she knew what he looked like.

He just lied to her, and if she was ever to find him around again, she will immediately remember.

“My mother will be working late next week… I’ll text you the day and the time?” 

He didn’t want to say no.

But if her mother saw him…

“Fuck!” He yelled as he hit the steering wheel. It was not going as he planned, and he hated it.

If her mother saw him with her daughter, she would immediately think of this night, and scare her away from him.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

He will not let that happen.

He could make her disappear.

Fuck, that was… an idea, but not a good one.

All he knew was that he couldn’t lose her. 

Ever.

He’ll find a way.

One way or another.

Tag: @zenka69 @blaustappen @julczimozart @diannnnsss @i66cilla @queenofthekeep @summerposie @tssf-imagines @vaylint @sweet-nothings-s @esposamultifandom @av989436751 @ladythornofrivia @xcinnamonmalfoyx @deliaseastar @kotadislikesthissite @nebulamorada @madelynwalt @shari-berri @seraphdayiwah @witchy-jadda @odeioemail @alphard-hydraes-blog @isntitdelicatevivi @famousrebeldaze @ssnapsaurus @paigeestrawfordd @mamawiggers1980 @aemondracarys @aegonswife

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #modern aemond #aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond one shot #aemond targaryen angst #dark aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd x reader #hotd season 2 #hotd fanfic

[sinofwriting]

Out Loud - Charles Leclerc

Words: 1,807 Summary: She hasn’t been herself and she knows it’s worrying people, Charles. She just can’t get the words out. Note(s)/Warning(s): Reader is Jules Bianchi’s daughter and Charles’ goddaughter. Reader has longish hair. Coming Out (as Bisexual), Some Self Harm, Not Eating, Mentions of Throwing Up, Religious Trauma. Honestly this fic is kind of me just dumping my feelings out after being reminded of my less than great coming out experience as bisexual to my parents. I’m okay, just needed to write this and uh get back into therapy. If I missed a warning, let me know and if anyone reading this needs to talk, I’m here for you. (also, I promise that Dark Max fic is coming, Charles winning Monaco just threw a spanner into my plans and then this fic happened as well)

Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

She’s never said the words out loud. Never spoke them to herself or others. And she isn’t sure why. It can’t because it will make them true. They already are.

And she knows why. It’s not because it will make them true. They already are. It’s because she knows that as soon as she says them once, she’ll never stop.

The idea of saying them as her shaking, has her stomach twisted in knots, has her throwing up, headaches that won’t leave from all her crying. It’s all self-inflicted because she can’t say the words. And it’s only two words, three if she’s going for proper grammar and yet they won’t leave her. They refuse to spill from her tongue and past her lips. They settle in her throat and strangle her. Leave her gasping for breath, clawing at her throat in hopes that their grip will loosen. But it never works out that way.

Charles is concerned. She sees it every time he looks at her. She’s lost weight, because even though she’s stress eating, when she’s not doing that she’s throwing it all back up, and she cries while doing both. Her face is starting to lean towards gaunt and the circles under her eyes are growing larger. She can only hope that he doesn’t see the bruises on the inner sides of her wrists, on her inner thighs, where she pinches and squeezes, barely even noticing the pain that it causes because it’s something for her fingers to do.

He’s concerned and she knows because Arthur is concerned too. And suddenly Pierre is going to be staying with them for a while, ditching Kika because she apparently has a family trip, no boyfriends allowed, even though she knows from a friend of a friend that Kika and Pierre had plans together in Greece and Bora Bora. Plans that Kika was apparently happy to reschedule.

She’s so lost in her head, in her thoughts, in her wishes that she could just speak that she doesn’t hear the light knock of knuckles on her bedroom door before it opens.

“Pierre is going to be here soon. You should get up, come greet him.” Charles' voice is gentle, always gentle with her, even when she doesn’t deserve it. “I’m tired.” She breathes and it’s not a lie. She is tired. Tired of being a coward, tired of pretending like she will ever say when she needs to and really she should just get over herself at this point. But it’s more frightening, the idea of never saying the words at all then what could happen if she does say them. “You can go back to bed after seeing him for a moment, I promise.” Her eyes flutter shut at his last two words and she nods. “Okay. I need to shower.”

As she climbs out of bed, she wobbles and she can feel his eyes on her. “Do you need help?” She tries to smile at him, but she knows that it doesn’t work with the way the worry grows on his face. “I think I’m too old for my godfather to help me shower.” Something crosses his face as if he’s only now remembering she isn’t a little girl anymore, she’s eighteen, no longer the nine-year-old he got stuck with. “I guess so.” He gives her a smile. “I’ll be in the living room, I’ll do your hair for you.” She wants to protest, but he closes the door before she can and she knows that it’s on purpose.

Charles loved doing her hair and when she had turned twelve for a while it had been the only time she would talk to him about anything, even what she ate for dinner the previous night. As she washes her hair, she tries to think of the last time he had done it. Even just giving it a small brush before they left for dinner somewhere or him braiding it or him trying to turn her hair into some sort of flower before going back to just making it look like a rose. When was the last time he had done that? When was the last time she let him do that for her?

It had been before the season started, just before he left for the first race. She remembers now because his hands were anxious to do something. Worried that it’d be a repeat of 2022 where it would start off good and then end in disappointment. She winces as she thinks of how long it’s been and the reminder of what 2023 has been like for him.

Drying off and slipping into an old shirt of Charles from karting and a pair of Lorenzo’s shorts, she nearly goes back to bed. It’s tempting, the blankets comfy and her sheets soft, but she walks past it and out of her bedroom.

Charles is already sitting on the couch, legs spread with a pillow on the ground between them. A host of hair things sit beside him on the couch cushions. The detangler she’s used all her life that Pascale always gives her, the special made f1 car clips from Max, pearl clips from her grandma and grandpa, the bands from her aunt, the different brushes Sebastian bought her that first year Charles was at Ferrari that only get used when Charles and her are going to be doing this for a while.

Seeing them makes her pause. “I thought Pierre was going to be here soon.” He smiles at her, fond and happy, but still worried and concerned. “Within the hour. But he has a key, he’ll let himself in.” She nods, slowly moving closer until she finally sinks onto the floor, sitting on the pillow. Instantly, Charles’ hands are in her hair, tutting at the barely damp locks. “I will have to take you to grandmère soon. It’s been too long.” “I went not that long ago.” “You went just after the season started. We are in August now.” She makes a humming sound, eyes focusing on the tv that’s turned off.

It’s soothing the feeling of her godfather’s fingers in her hair, running through it, quietly hissing each time he comes across a knot, no matter how small. The quiet apologies that spill from his lips each time he tugs what he deems to harsh, when it is barely a tug at all.

“Y’know.” He begins. “When you were born you had no hair. It was amusing to all of us because your father had been promising grandmère that she’d have a grandbaby’s hair to play with. And my father,” Charles takes a breath and she leans into his right leg a little. “He had told him the whole time not to promise that. Jules was beside himself when you didn’t get any hair until you were six months.” “I was a bald baby.” Charles laughs. “The baldest baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs after a few moments. “For what?” She can see from the corner of her eye him picking up a brush. “For how your season is going. Ferrari is not doing well.” “Ferrari is managing. There is lots of changes and this is not the car that Fred wanted for us, but it is the one we have.” “You think 2024 will be better?” “I don’t know what to think other than I can not think about that. I don’t want more disappointment or broken promises.” “You deserve a good car, the best car.” “Perhaps I’ll get it someday.”

As he starts to brush her hair, her eyes wander, looking at all the pictures she can see and has seen countless times before. There’s many, most of family, some of friends, and some of Charles’ time with Ferrari, in racing. As her eyes wander further, they stop on the small cross hanging on by the window. It makes her breathing stutter and she rips her eyes away from it, forcing them to look back at the blank tv.

But seeing just for a few seconds was enough.

“Charles.” He makes a humming noise, his movements not stilling. “If I had to tell you something,” she swallows, thinking of her backpack by the front door that’s got two spare sets of clothes, her wallet, all her identification, and more importantly a spare phone. “Something that would change things, how would you react?” “That is very vague.” He tells her, fingers starting to twist her hair. “It would depend on how it changes things.” “It would change how you saw me.” That makes him pause and she catches his eyes, so expressive in the tv reflection. “Nothing could change how I feel about you. You are my goddaughter, I love you. I’ve raised you since you were nine. Nothing could ever change the love I have for you.” Tears that had started to build in her eyes when he first started to talk, fall. “I’m,” she takes a shaky breath. “I’m bisexual.”

Silence fills the room and she can’t breathe, can’t take a breath, can’t break the silence, as she waits for him to say something, anything. She doesn’t even realize, but she’s started to move a little away from him, ready to bolt, ready to slip on her shoes by the door, grab her backpack and make a run for it. Because she’s ready. She’s ready for him to tell her to leave, to get out of his house. She’s ready for him to drag her to church, to make her pray like she hasn’t already for wanting not just men, but also women. She’s ready.

She is so unbelievably unready for what he actually says.

“Are you still who I raised you to be?” “Yes.” She nods, not even having to think. Because she is, she promises that she is. She is still the girl that Charles taught to be kind, to be nice, to make sure she is always heard. She is still the little girl that Charles became a godfather to. She’s still the girl that Charles became a father to as well. “I am.” She sobs. “Oh, mon bébé.” He sighs and he’s turning her around before pulling her up into his lap, making her curl up against him as she sobs into his shirt.

“I love you so much. You being bisexual doesn’t change a thing. And I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it would.” “Papa.” She cries and his lips are pressing to her forehead as he somehow manages to rock her. “Thank you for trusting me with this, with you.” He tells her when her sobs have died down and she’s able to look at him with not blurry vision. “I’m sorry I took so long.” “No.” He shakes his head, wiping her tears. “You took as much time as you needed.”

#charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #been a bit since i've written a platonic fic

[spotsandsocks]

For what it’s worth here’s my opinion on Chris leaving.

Have any of you tried to stop a 13 year old doing something or change their mind?

The secret of parenting is that they let you be in charge. They listen and they may fight and argue with you but they accept ultimately that you are in charge. You as the parent say yes or no and that is the way it is. There can be discussions there can be compromise but the choice is theirs to accept your ‘rule’

Parents rule at the consent of the child until they don’t. Once a young person works out they can say no I don’t want that how can you make them? Without violence? without threats without breaking what’s already unraveling?

Put your foot down? Lock them in? Take away everything? Punish them? Punish them some more?

You still can’t make them talk to you, look at you? You can’t make them eat? You can’t even make them move unless you get physical.

At 13 you think you’re right, you’re starting to think adults, especially your parents are anywhere from embarrassing to annoying to the worst people you know who can’t possibly understand anything.

You just got home with a lady you like quite a lot and you dad is hugging your dead mother.

You just saw your dead mother.

Your dad is a cheater

A cheater and a liar

With your dead mother

Nothing else matters the man you thought you knew, your dad, just vanished before your eyes.

I think I might like a break too. If Chris isn’t ready to talk then he’s not. And yes he has grandparents who took advantage of all that inappropriately and with glee it seems and yes Eddie’s broken and failing and he’s lost himself again, after thinking he’d made it through to the other side. Which makes it worse.

He’s always tried to parent Chris kindly, treat him like a person and at thirteen you do have opinions you have agency you have a voice. Yes you still need support you still need adults but you know your own mind. Even if you’re not making good choices, even if you’re just reacting.

Ramon and Helena should have said no to Chris. Not yet. Or yes but only for a week or two then we come back and talk. They should have helped. I’m not sure this is helping.

Eddie made sure Chris knows he’s loved he’s hoping it’s only for a while. He’s hoping for forgiveness. He’s not exactly doing well anyway.

What was he going to do - lock him in his room and wait.

Eddie is being a good parent - at least he’s trying to be

Mr and Mrs Diaz - not doing such a good job of parenting their own son.

Agree disagree it’s your choice just don’t get mad at me.

#eddie diaz #Christopher diaz #parenting #ramon diaz #Helena diaz #911 spoilers #Diaz family #911 abc

[katsudonn]

About you

[Katsuki bakugo x Reader]

Inspired to the song About you

!Story is Angst to fluff!

Synopsis: You were excited to reveal the news to your husband katsuki after 5 years of marriage just to receive news that he got hit by a memory quirk.

⚠️ warnings⚠️

Grammatical errors, wrong spelling, Angst, the story is a bit of an open ending, I made it Angst to fluff cause my heart couldn't take full Angst right now.

You waited for the day to end excited to give the box you've been working onto for the whole week to katsuki. You did your very best to hid the pregnancy test and not be suspicious cause you want to make it a special surprise to him. You also made a meal, his favorite spicy ramen. The day officially ended its currently 7 pm and he's still not yet home. You thought he was just having another overtime at work since being top pro hero is a hassle for him.

You're getting anxious since katsuki still hasn't knocked, he should be home by now since it's already 9 Pm in night now.

Your phone rang, you were excited to hear katsuki is on his way home, but when you picked your phone up turns out it's Mina whose calling you. You're quite disappointed but still picked the call up either way.

"Hey girl, how are you?" You heard the pink haired through the phone.

"I'm just waiting for katsuki, you know the surprise I've been working the whole," you replied happily.

"Yeah" Mina replied lowly in the other end of the phone. "Babe, katsuki need you right now."

Your heart dropped, what could possibly happen to your lover? You hurriedly put your winter coat on and picked your keys up to drive your way to the hospital.

"I'll be on my way Mina, send me the location."

After minutes of driving you finally arrived at the hospital, you ran to his room. You opened the door meeting kirishima's whose just about to leave, him seeing your worried look and state, "We'll help you fix this [y/n], I'll go on patrol now," he pats your head and leaves.

You saw katsuki with minimal bruise and talking to his other friends and a doctor on his side asking him questions. You ran to him and hugged his back, he was caught off guard by your presence. "You dummy, you always gets me worried," you said crying onto his back.

"Hey ma'am are you a relative of dynamight?" The doctor asked. "Yeah, I'm his wife," you responded looking at katsuki's confused look. "I have a wife?" Katsuki asked which made you looked confused aswell, it made your heart ache of what he have said.

"Ma'am, let's talk outside for now," the doctor said leading you outside still confused of what is happening. "As you can see dynamight is out to capture a villain, but due to its quirk he had lost some of his memories, the memories lost is still not sure but I think you're one of it. He could still remember all of his friends but you ma'am." He explained patting your shoulder.

Still flabbergasted of what the doctor have said, "that's impossible, how could this happen?" As tears slowly forming in your eyes. "Since it's just a quirk maybe we could still fix this, but we wouldn't guarantee, all you can do is help him remember atleast Ma'am." You heart aches more and clutch onto your stomach.

Still on tears when Mina approaches you and hugged you, your body felt weak and lean onto mina's hug. "How can I tell him I'm pregnant if he wouldn't even remember he has a wife?" You said while sobbing. "Babe, it's okay we'll find a way, we'll help him remember you." Mina hugged you tightly as she fight her tears away.

Mina knows how katsuki love you so much and how nice person you are, their hearts broke also knowing that he only forgotten about you. It's must be something about this villains quirk. Mina is doing her best to comfort and calm you down since you're pregnant and it's your first trimester so the baby is in sensitive state. She's worried of how your pregnancy will go in this kind of problem your facing.

"Katsuki said his heart calmed down when you entered the room for some reason, maybe there's still chance [y/n]" mina assured you wiping your tears away. "Let's go see katsuki, maybe he'll recall some," mina held your hand leading you to the room. Your swollen red eyes is still visible, some of his classmates left, telling you to be strong and they have to go for now.

"H-hey kats..." you tried to speak up only some few steps away from him. You looked at him trying your best to smile to not worry him any longer. "Do you remember me?" You asked in a low voice.

Katsuki looks at your state, his heart shrunk seeing you said for some reason, his instinct wants to hug you and comfort you "I'm sorry, I don't," he replied.

Your heart couldn't take what's happening today and couldn't let your voice out or speak to him. "But for some reason I don't like seeing you crying," he said looking at the bed sheets avoiding your gaze. "I'll try my best to recall everything, don't worry."

Somehow your heart calmed a bit from his words, your husband katsuki is still the same after all, he just forgotten about you. But hearing him say he'll try makes you believe that your family could still be back. You gave him a warm smile wiping your tears away "then we'll wait for you kats."

Katsuki heart warmed down aswell seeing you happy. He couldn't respond and just nod at your respons.

Few hours had passed of you and katsuki talking at helping him recover, "Hey, it's late do you want me to drive you home?" Kaminari said. "Ah, yeah.. I guess it's late, I'll visit you tomorrow kats" you said and lean to give him a kiss on his cheek. As much as you want to peck his lips, you think it'd weird him out.

Bakugo did not push your actions away and just gave into it, he knew the pain your into right now. "Okay drive safely," he added seeing your small frame leaving the room with kaminari. "I'll take care of her bro, see ya," kaminari waved at katsuki leaving.

You and kaminari finally arrived in your home "Hey, stay strong we'll figure this out," he pats your shoulder. "Thanks, drive safely also," you went out of his car and wave as goodbye to him.

You went inside your shared home with katsuki, everything still hasn't sink into you, looking at your wedding photos in the hallway praying that this wouldn't be the end of your marriage and soon to be family. You can't help but cry and be worried to not get your baby's development in critical. You just sleep your tears away too tired for the day.

Days had passed, you visited katsuki every day to check any progress, its taking slow but you always prayed for his memory recovery, you still haven't told him your surprise yet. You Don't even know when will you have the chance to tell him, will be happy if he knew it? Will he accept it now in his current state?

Katsuki finally got discharge from the hospital and the doctor recommended for him to stay at home for more chance of recovering his memories. "This is the house you and I designed with the help of your dad," you said opening the doorknob. He just follow through inside seeing the photos of your wedding in the walls, photos of your dates, engagement proposal in the shelf. It just feels home here, even seeing your frame felt like home to him.

Even without his memories he can feel how safe he is with you, which even eagers him to recover faster. He felt his head ache upon seeing your home, "Hey are you okay?" You asked worried. "Yeah, just maybe some is sinking in me," he assured you.

"You designed this kitchen cause you love to cook, you often cook meals even if you're tired with work," you chuckled looking in the kitchen. "You always told me cause I like it extra special for you," he smiled of what you have said, happy that he does his hobby and is a good husband to you.

"You also insist putting orange accent in our house since it's your favorite color," you said pointing out the orange designs. "You also said you'd want our future kids room to be orange," you chuckled to those memories. He also laughed hearing it really reminds of him, everything you just said is very him. "Damn right, I also want them wearing my custom hero suit," he respond grabbing your waist.

Your shocked of his sudden actions but just gave into the moment, maybe he's really trying his best to fix this. "I'll just go to the bathroom, I'll be back" you said and went to the bathroom.

Katsuki room freely around the house and found a orange box with a cute ribbon wrapped around it. He got curious on what could be inside of it, maybe some old photos or collection? Maybe it could help him regain his memories. He opened the box revealing 2 pregnancy test and a photo of ultra sound, his eyes widened seeing the whole box. It also has a note in the lid "We're coming soon dad" he can't help but cry seeing the whole thing, it also includes one baby clothes whose color is orange and a hand written letter by you.

You just finished going in the bathroom and went around the house to find katsuki, you found him in the room crying? "Hey, kats what are you looking at.." As your voice kept on getting lower and lower, seeing him crying over your soon to be surprise to him. You can't help but cry also, "that was supposed to be my surprise the day you lost your memories," you said wiping your tears away.

"I wonder if it's a girl or a boy," he said chuckling holding onto the baby clothes with a "baby dynamight" design on it. Your eyes lighten up seeing him so happy with your surprise for him. "You always told me you'd want to have a boy so you could train him to be strong like you, either way even if it's a girl you know she'd be as strong like you," you said walking to his side.

He hugged you tightly tears still streaming in his face, he couldn't help it, deep inside him felt so full and happy seeing the box. "Wait for me,I'll figure this out," he said circling his hands in your back. "You better be," you said hugging him back.

The night ended better than you expected, you showed him the photo album of his collection photos. He got his photograph habbit from his mom, he would secretly take you pictures and put it in the album, and photos of you together, anytime and anywhere as long as he feels like it.

He can't help but smile thinking he's so lucky marrying a kind of woman like you, he wonders what he did in life to even get you to marry him? You can see him try to recall each picture and memories you tell him, being patient and praying for his fast recovery.

I'd recommend you to play the music About you by The 1975 here:

Months had passed, you would invite him to the places he'd often bring you for hopes of triggering his memories. The villain is also being investigated on how to reverse his quirk, but to no avail he wouldn't talk and would just often laugh and say "that dynamight deserve to lose everything special to him." Katsuki wanted to blow the person up, but there's a thick glass in between them. "You fucker ruining everyones family!? Dammit my wife and kid need me you fucking villain!" He exclaimed punching through the glass.

"You fucking deserve it dynamight, you also once caught my kid, here is my small gift to you, and that memory of yours will forever poof" the villain laughed through the other side. Bakugo is about to blow up the whole place due to his anger but his teacher came into place and place him his hand onto his shoulder. "Calm down, there's still other way," aizawa said as you're face so happy flashed into his face and calmed himself up. "Rot in hell Fucker," he said one last time.

Everything felt like the first time meeting katsuki, you felt sad about it but also feel so happy seeing him try and accepted the fact of your soon to be born kid. He would be present in your ultra sounds, seeing his eyes light up looking in the monitor holding your hands so firm.

He still gave you the same love, katsuki grew attached to you even if his memories with you is just from the past few months. He would sometimes talk about what his kid will be, if it's a boy will if look exactly like him? You wished. If it's a girl will it replicate your looks? He wished.

He would do the same exact things you told him he always do for you, such as cooking you meal everytime. He also designed the room of your soon to be kid with an accent of orange on it and a logo of his "baby dynamight."

He just didn't tell you that he's slowly regaining some of his memories by himself and with Eri's quirk helping him reverse the quirk used in him. He would sometimes secretly laugh in your stories making him look that "he's such a nice guy" and "he always love kids on your dating years" how you fabricate some of his traits. Your trying to make his memories nice.

He would do the things you like and love, such as him buying you sunflowers and tulips cause it's your favorites, he'd say he asked his friends and just wanted to do someth nice to you.

He couldn't help but be happy spending time to with you telling him stories of your life together, he wished he could stay in this moment forever with you and his Lil family. You're also happy how your soon to be family is slowly forming. His mother Mitsuki would sometimes asked how are you and the baby doing, wishing you a Goodluck on his son's recovery.

It's your fifth month in pregnancy, you belly is getting heavier and bigger, but katsuki would still complement that you're so fucking gorgeous and encourage you. You planned a date and gender reveal with him, just the two of you.

You went to the same park you both always go and ready a small picnic in it. You ordered a gender reveal cake for a small celebration with your lover. "Okay so we'll both use this glass to cut through the cake and reveal the gender," you explained the mechanics to him happily. "Okay, okay boss" he said patting your head.

You both cut through the cake and seeing a blue and pink? Bakugo saw pink in his side and yours a blue. "I got pink" katsuki said "I got blue" you said. Katsuki eyes widen "it's a twin?" He asked you so confused. "Yeah" you chuckled. "I thought the twins would be boys, but I guess it's both!" You said wiping the minimal tears in your eyes.

He hugged you carefully trying not to hurt you and your belly. "Damn your a super mom" he said rubbing your belly. "I also have something to say, I've also regained all my memories with Eri's help," he said cupping your cheeks. Your eyes also widen and started to cry, "you dummy today was supposed to be my surprise to you," he wiped your tears away. "I'm so happy kats," he smiled and peck your lips. "Me too [y/n]" you kissed him back.

Do you think I have forgotten? (About you)

Thank you for reading till end T^T hope you liked it!! \(♡3♡)/ please tell me what you feel in this story! Love lots dynamight🧡

Sorry again to any grammar and spelling errors I've made :')

#katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo angst #bakugo katsuki x reader angst #bakugo x you #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x oc #bakugo katsuki angst #katsuki angst #bakugo fluff #katsuki fluff #great explosion murder god dynamight #mha dynamight #mha x reader #mha #bakugo fanfic #katsuki fanart #x reader #fanfic #bnha #Spotify

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii!

(If you’re not up for it simply ignore. I love your work and hope you’re happy and healthy and taking care of your own mental health ❤️)

The bat boys with a reader who has really low days and really just wants to be held?

I just wanted an excuse to add Kyle Rayner as a bonus cuz I’ve been wanting to write something for him but dunno what. Plus I’ve been needing something like this after the week I’ve just had lol.

Dick would smile softly as he held you in his arms, tightening his grip on you as he peppers you in kisses however he could.

He knew that days like these were the hardest for you and he wasn’t going to hold it against you, not in the slightest as he would softly hum a song to you as he carried you to your shared bed, Hayley hot on his heels as she was worried about your change of attitude.

Speaking of Hayley, she never leaves your side, in fact when she sees Dick hold you against him , she immeditly joins in and tries to wriggle her way in between you both in hopes of covering your face in comforting licks. She wants to see you happy and she’ll gladly cuddle up with you if that’s the only way to do it.

Dick would spoil you rotten with cuddles, kisses and words of encouragement when you felt as though all hope was lost, for the last thing he wanted was for you to feel as though no one had you back when he did this entire time of being together.

‘You’re amazing baby and I’m so fucking proud of you, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise you otherwise because you outshine them without having to try.’ He says while pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Dick would gladly make a fool of himself if it was to make you feel better but holding you, kissing you, and praising you will have to do for the meantime as he could hope that he has given you the strength needed to get out of this dark place that you’ve found yourself in.

He believes you can do it but until then he’ll gladly hold you until you could stand on your own two feet again.

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice as he was well aware of what you want the moment you came through the door of your shared bedroom.

‘Come here sweetheart.’ He would say as he sets aside his book and held out his arms for you to burrow into as you rested your head on his chest, arms latching onto his waist with an iron like grip.

He didn’t need to ask about the day you’ve had for he could feel the fatigue and weariness within your body and the deep sigh that left your lips that told him you have been holding in for a long while. Your body practically radiated with tiredness in all its forms that made it impossible for him to ignore even if he tried.

‘Rest your heavy head and your weary eyes chipmunk,’ he tells you as he begins to rub up and down your back soothingly, ‘I’ll be right here when you wake up, so just relax for me okay?’

You hummed out a small and a tad muffled ‘okay’ and Jason presses a kiss to the side of your head as he tightens his hold on you. He’d even read passages of his book to you in hopes the tit would take your mind off of things quicker as he knew how much you liked the sound of his voice.

Jason knows there’s want much he could do when you experienced days like these but all he could hope was that he was making enough of an effort to make you feel just that little bit better.

Tim makes sure he has everything you could ever need during days like these such as your favourite plushie, blanket, comfort foods, and some water just to name a few as he wants you to be comfortable and taken care of if he was to not be moving away from the bed anytime soon as he held you in his arms.

He just wants you to be okay and doesn’t want you run in on an empty stomach.

‘We’re human, we have limitations and breaking points that tell us to stop and take a break for ourselves, but yet we have been made to think that we shouldn’t and that we should neglect our health and well-being for temporary achievements and successes; almost as if that’s the only thing that should mean something to us.’ Tim tells you as he cuddles you against his chest as a movie played on his laptop as background noise.

‘You’ve done so well for yourself and now your more then deserving of a rest, we’ll return to reality in our own time, we’ve got enough of it that it shouldn’t matter whether we’re still here an hour or two later.’ Tim continues as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

And he meant it, Tim didn’t care how kind he’d have to wait for you to get better because he understood that it wasn’t going to be as easy, having had shit days where he couldn’t be bothered to bring himself to do anything other then lay in his bed, wondering to himself about what he could’ve done to feel such deep pain and isolation.

He knew that it would take time for you to feel even remotely better and even when you did you’ll still need all the help you can possibly get, and he’ll be there for as long as you’ll need him there too.

Damian isn’t well versed in the art of comforting someone but with you, suddenly he’s an expert as he lets you flop against his side as he holds you protectively.

He doesn’t trust his words enough to bring you any comfort as he wasn’t given much himself when he was growing up, so Damian instead just lets you cling onto him and watch in silence as he draws whatever in his sketchbooks: in this instance it was quick sketch of you, him and all of his pets on a field somewhere.

Damian knew his drawings were somewhat therapeutic to you as you got to watch him go through every step he took to make the perfect drawing, no matter if it was heavily detailed or less so, that and he was proud of his artwork that he doesn’t mind showing you some of his precious works and telling you the stories behind them.

Titus joins you, obviously, as he could tell something was wrong with you and will lay in your lap to provide you with some comfort until he’s fallen fast asleep, rendering it impossible for you to move but you didn’t care and neither did Damian as you were surly to follow the Great Dane into dream land where you would be laying in that field that Damian drew.

You were a lot more stronger then you let yourself believe in Damian’s eyes but that didn’t mean he wasn’t more then content in holding you in comfortable silence until you felt better, even if it was just a little bit but even then Damian was determined to outdo himself and find other ways of helping you no matter what.

He just wants to see that smile he loved so much again that told him that everything was going to be okay.

Random Bonus character: Kyle Rayner

Kyle hates seeing you so down and will do absolutely anything and everything he could even if it meant only getting a little smile out of you he’d take it wholeheartedly!

Anything was better then that distant, solemn look on your face as you stared out the window as though life didn’t look as bright or pleasant anymore as it did before.

He’d conjure up anything your heart desired if that helped even by the smallest amount, any amount of progress was better then none. Kyle just wants to see your eyes light up again with childlike wonder again, even if it was momentarily.

However he doesn’t mind if him holding you in his arms was the only way to achieve such a thing as he could keep you close and squeeze you tightly as he tries to pour everything encouraging into your ears in low hushed whispers.

‘You’ll be okay,’ Kyle begins, ‘whether that’s within days, weeks or even months, you’ll be okay. You’re not missing out on anything nor are you going about life at a slower pace compared to others, you’re going at your own pace and that’s okay, you’ll get where you need to be in due time so there’s no point in rushing yourself to get there quicker.’

Kyle would even do some silly little doodles for you just to hear you chuckle or even let out an amused huff. He’d gladly make himself look silly if it meant brining a little light to your heart and life back into your eyes.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson x you #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #Tim drake imagines #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #kyle rayner x reader #Kyle Rayner imagines #Kyle Rayner imagine

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XVI)

Chapter 16: Fare Well

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Okay, time to talk…

Sorry for the angst in advance…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2496

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

This was a terrible idea.

Andrew hesitated one last time before knocking on your door.

This was a terrible idea. He was going to get his heart broken all over again. What was there to discuss anyway? You had met someone else, someone better than him… end of story.

He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket while he waited for you to open the door. It was springtime, and yet the evening was particularly cold tonight. A clear sky above his head though, all inky and full of stars.

God, he shouldn’t have come…

Finally, the key turned in the lock, and the next second your door was opening. You welcomed him with a timid but earnest smile.

“Hi! Come in… do you want some tea?”

You didn’t wait for his answer, hurried to close the door behind him as if you were worried he would run away. He barely let out a ‘good evening’ that you were off to the kitchen, busying yourself with tea even if it was late already.

Still, he walked in silence in your kitchen, let you get away with the distraction. He waited in silence, unwilling to be the first to speak.

“Here you go,” you added as you handed him the grey mug he loved best. Two teabags. The same ritual you had performed for him hundreds, if not thousands of times…

“Thank you,” his voice was quiet and blank.

The atmosphere was heavy, suffocating, even. His heart was pounding, and Andrew didn’t have the strength to look at you. He shouldn’t have come. Being rejected once was painful enough, he didn’t need you to do it again…

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you said, hesitation making your voice quiet and small. “Do you want to sit down?” you added as you gestured towards the living room, but Andrew shook his head.

“No, I’d rather stand.”

Slowly, you nodded. You remained both standing there, under the pale light of your kitchen, your back to the sink and his to the counter open on the living room. He was still holding his tea, but he didn’t want to drink it. The heat sipping through the porcelain was a good distraction against his tight throat though.

“You… You want to eat something? I have some biscuits…”

“Y/N… thank you, but… I’d rather get this over with.”

You hummed, pulling on your sleeves until they covered your hands. Andrew noticed that you hadn’t made any tea for yourself.

“Right… We should… talk about what happened.”

“Did you go to the date? With Maggie?”

He finally looked up when you remained silent. You seemed taken aback by his question.

“Yeah… Yes, I did.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“Andy!”

“What? We’re close enough for us to have sex, but I can’t know if you’ve found someone else?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. He was getting annoyed by all this, angry even. Andrew longed for this to be over, for him to go home, get threateningly drunk, maybe smoke a joint or two to make sure he could numb the pain, and forget for a few hours that you existed.

And tomorrow he would get up, and pretend that all was fine, and he would do that again and again until he could think of you without wanting to cry…

“No, we didn’t sleep together.”

“How was the date?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes, I do.”

You heaved a sigh.

“I stayed a grand total of fifteen minutes…”

He frowned at that.

“Really?”

“It felt wrong.”

You added nothing to that statement, and Andrew didn’t know what to do with it. Wrong because your date wasn’t nice? Or wrong because you wanted someone else?

“Did you see her again?”

“No… no, and I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

You shifted again, clearly uncomfortable.

“Look, Andy… this isn’t why I wanted to see you…”

“Really? Why, then?”

“You… you ran off. When I told you, you simply… ran off. I… I’m sorry. I should have handled this better, I… I know that I didn’t break the news in the best way. I was scared of how you would react.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Did you ever think that I could react well to you dumping my arse?”

“I didn’t dump you…”

“Really?”

“No, because we were not together.”

Andrew clenched his jaw, put down his untouched tea on the counter behind him. He averted his gaze, crossed his arms before his chest.

“I’m sorry, Andy. I should have handled that situation better. You… you’re important to me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

God, he didn’t know if he ought to cry or laugh at that.

“I know that I should have found a better way to tell you about this. But I… I hope that we can still be friends…”

“Friends?!”

He looked up again, stared at you with his mouth hanging open.

Friends?!

“No, Y/N. We’re not going to be friends.”

“But…”

“We’ve slept together. For months, we… Friends?!”

“That was our arrangement…”

“Our arrangement was a terrible idea. And it was… it was never an arrangement for me.”

“But we discussed things…”

“I shouldn’t have accepted.”

Slowly, you nodded.

It seemed to hurt you, that he showed regrets. But how could he not regret this?

He hated you for a moment, looking sad and scared like you didn’t want to lose him. And he hated you even more because he didn’t regret it. Not really. Despite all the pain he was feeling now, despite all the sleepless nights, and how desperate he was, he still didn’t regret it. He would have given anything to spend one last night with you. He would have gone through all this pain over and over again just to kiss you one more time. He would have done it all over again, just to hold you for one tiny minute…

He was bitter as he spoke. He didn’t care whether it would hurt you or not, he was too hurt himself to care about that. He needed to let it out. For once, he needed to do what was best for him, and not for you.

“Do you know what I wanted to tell you that night?”

You shook your head in silence, waiting for him to continue. You had mimicked his posture, were leaning against your sink with your arms crossed.

“I wanted to stop seeing you like this.”

Your mouth fell open in shock.

“I wanted to tell you that I… that I wanted to stop this stupid arrangement of ours. That I… That I wanted more. That I would have waited until you were ready to date again, no matter how long that would be, to be properly with you.”

His bottom lip trembled, your form was blurred with tears, but he held them back. They shone at the corners of his eyes, making the hazel turn green, but he didn’t cry.

“And you slept with me. We had sex. And then you blurted out that you didn’t give two fucks about me, and that you wanted to date someone else… after we just had sex! Do you realise how fucked up that is?!”

It was your turn to hold back your tears, averting your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but that wasn’t good enough.

“I thought… after everything, I thought you would say yes. I thought you felt… something for me.”

“I… I do care about you, Andy, that’s not the point…”

“Do you? Is that why you thought it was respectful to have sex with me, and wait less than five minutes to reject me?!”

You didn’t say anything. He had raised his voice, although he was trying to keep it down. It made it powerful enough to make him intimidating, but shaky too, showing how vulnerable he was behind the layers of anger.

“Why did you do that? Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“Because… because I knew we had to stop this, and… I just… I know it was selfish, but I wanted to have one last night with you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. Because it sounded like a good answer, a tempting one. You looked vulnerable, fragile even. As if this was a confession that was revealing too much of you.

But it was just a lie…

“We didn’t have one last night. We only had sex, Y/N.”

You stared at him for a while, but you refused to answer.

“You’ve only stayed once,” he reminded you. “You’ve only stayed once, and after that, it was like… like you didn’t want to remain more than twenty minutes alone with me unless we were having sex.”

“It… it was too hard to stay.”

“Too hard?”

“It was too emotional.”

His eyebrows shot up at that.

“Because having sex with me was not emotional to you? Really?”

“It’s different, and you know it.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“Acting like a couple, with domestic stuff, it’s… it’s different to fucking.”

The way you narrowed your eyes at him, the way you seemed worried now… yeah, Andrew guessed he wasn’t too good at hiding how much your words were hurting.

“Fucking… that’s all there was between us to you? That’s all I was to you?”

“That’s not what I meant...”

“That’s exactly what you meant! Christ! Are you telling me that you were just using me for sex all this time?! Why the fuck would you act like that with me if that was just about fucking, huh?! When we were… Jesus… when you…”

His voice broke, and he blinked tears away, but it wasn’t enough this time, he had to brush them off with the back of his hand.

“This is more complicated than that.”

“What’s complicated?”

“I can’t be with you, Andy. So… it was necessary to keep a certain distance, so we could still save our friendship…”

“Well, we didn’t save shit.”

“God, Andrew, I… I know that I’ve handled telling you about that stupid date badly… terribly even! But us not catching feelings was the plan all along! Don’t blame this on me!”

“So, you were just fucking me, then? All this time? There was nothing more than that?”

“Andy…”

“No! No, you answer me now! What the fuck, Y/N?! Are you really saying that I’ve been hallucinating all this time?! Because I thought… I thought you felt something… When we were lying in bed together, when we were…”

“Andy, you don’t understand.”

“No, you’re right! I don’t understand! We’ve slept together for months, several times a week, while spending our days together… we’ve been friends for years, and… and you didn’t feel anything when we were having sex? Nothing at all? Like… How could you feel nothing at all?”

“We agreed…”

“Fuck this agreement!” Andrew roared, and you visibly shook, his deep voice booming through the room. You had never heard him shout so loudly at anyone before. “Fuck your stupid rules! Fuck all this shit! How could you do this to me? How could you have sex with me and feel nothing! It felt…”

His voice broke, a tear rolled down his cheek, disappeared in his beard, caught a tiny speck of light before fading.

“It felt like it wasn’t just about pleasure. Like you were… like you… like I wasn’t just…”

He heaved a sigh, and all of a sudden he didn’t seem so tall, so intimidating. All of sudden, he was vulnerable and fragile and bent under a weight he couldn’t carry.

“God, Y/N… How could you do this to me?”

A pregnant pause stumbled across the space between your two bodies. It seemed an uncrossable chasm, a gap you couldn’t conquer anymore.

“I’m sorry, Andy… but you can’t put the blame only on me. You agreed to this. Everything was clear, we’ve discussed things…”

“But when we had sex…”

“Andy…”

“When we had sex, did you not feel anything? Something? Just… something… And what about after that? When we were holding onto each other? That morning when we had breakfast together…?”

You were blinking tears away, your arms tight around your own frame, fleeing him. Your body language was obvious, you were refusing to face the truth, or to admit it, at the very least.

“Why are you asking me this, why is it so important?”

“You truly don’t know the answer to that?”

“I don’t.”

“You fucking idiot...”

“Why would you have agreed to do this if that was not what you wanted? If you didn’t want me?”

“Didn’t want you?! Y/N… this is literally the opposite of what I’m saying!”

“I don’t understand!” you raised your voice too this time, following his lead. “We’ve discussed things! We agreed! You said you wanted me!”

“Of course, I wanted you!”

“Then why are you mad?”

“BECAUSE I WANT MORE!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT?!”

“BECAUSE YOU WOULD HAVE LEFT! BECAUSE YOU DON’T…”

His voice cracked again, he let out a frustrated growl against himself and his bloody feelings that were bubbling all the way to the surface to overcome him and drown him in silence…

“WHAT… NEXT YOU’LL TELL ME YOU LOVE ME…”

“OF COURSE I DO!”

There it was, out in the open. He saw you freezing into place, eyes growing round. And he knew he had fucked up, but what was there left to destroy anyway? He couldn’t be just your friend anymore… he was losing you tonight, no matter what.

“I love you,” Andrew finally let out the words he had kept hidden for so long, they tasted sour in his mouth, and yet a weight was lifted from his chest. “I fucking love you. Of course, I love you. How could you not notice? I was always in love with you. And it was never just sex for me. It was always about making love to you. Did you… have you never made love to me? Not once? Was it just fucking? Really?”

You blinked at him. You seemed stunned in stillness, unable to move or do anything but stare at him with round eyes and parted lips. Andrew thought he knew how to understand your silence. He hated you for it. Despite all his love, while he held your blank gaze with his searching one, he hated you.

“Alright. Very well.”

He turned away, and didn’t look back as he crossed your home to the door.

“Don’t call me again, Y/N. I don’t want to hear about you ever again.” And then he was out in the street, in your driveway, into his car, driving, turning off the engines, closing the door of his car, opening his front door and stepping into his home, taking off his shoes and jacket, walking upstairs and into his bathroom and entering the shower with his clothes on. And when the cold water hit his face he finally allowed himself to let out a shout.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #series #writing

[alygator77]

~Beat of My Heart - Chapter 2~

♬ pairing. college au - drummer! gojo x psychology major! reader (f)

♬ summary. gojo satoru is an incredibly talented drummer from an up and rising band slowly making a name for themselves. He’s also incredibly good looking. Although you love to sing and play guitar for fun, you’re currently studying psychology in hopes to better understand your mother who is in her early stages of dementia. One day, Gojo unexpectedly helps you during a heated moment at your part time job. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve met before. As your relationship develops, you discover more about the mysteries and heartache of this tragic musician, realizing that his witty demeanor is just a mask.

♬ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut (eventually), college au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, romance, slow burn, talk of suicide, dementia, pushy sex (not from Gojo)

♬ status. ongoing

♬ words: 5.1k

a/n. here is chapter two! if you'd like to read chapter one click below!

♬ Chapter One

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

✧. ┊ 2:03 PM - SHOKO: Hey! My class got canceled. Where are you? I’m by the water fountain.

You peek down at the bright screen of your phone as it vibrates and read the new text notification. Raising it from the table, you unlock your phone and type back.

✧. ┊ 2:04 PM - YOU: I’m at the library today.

✧. ┊ 2:04 PM - SHOKO: Whaaaaa. Why are you all the way over there?

Staring at the keyboard, you’re unsure what to type back to your best friend. You haven’t told Shoko about your incident at work yesterday. She’s always been protective of you; you and Shoko have been friends since you were in diapers. She’s practically family to you. She would probably freak out hearing how that asshole on the drums was treating you. But it’s not even the jock you’re worried about. Shoko can always see right through you… so what would she say if you told her that you were restless about running into Satoru Gojo by the water fountain?

The thought of seeing him again creates a tightness in your chest you’re not used to, and you feel featherbrained when he’s nearby. Frankly, a feeling that scares you. A feeling you would rather avoid because you simply don’t have time for it. With your mom being in the early stages of dementia, you finishing your psychology degree and working a part time job, you feel as though you already have so much you need to juggle in life. Satoru would just be a distraction.

Suddenly you see a bubble appear on your phone indicating that Shoko is typing.

✧. ┊ 2:06 PM - SHOKO: I’m staaaaarving. Wanna have lunch with me? Think you can afford to take a break?

You smile down at your phone and type back.

✧. ┊ 2:06 PM - YOU: Sure! I haven’t eaten yet. Where should I meet you?

Placing your phone down on the table in front of you, you begin to jumble your books into a pile – a rushed attempt to clean up your belongings. Suddenly your phone vibrates again and you look down at it.

✧. ┊ 2:06 PM - SHOKO: I could go for tacos. Sound good to you?

You stuff a stack of books into your bag with one hand and pick up your phone from the table with the other, quickly typing back.

✧. ┊ 2:06 PM - YOU: Yeah! Packing up now. See you soon.

A heart emoji pops up on your message, indicating that Shoko loved it. You smile at your phone and rush out the building, heading towards the local taco shop next to campus.

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

“Finally!! Took you long enough to get here! Thought I was gonna have to eat without you,” you hear Shoko call for you sarcastically and glance over at a table in the corner of the taco shop. There you see your friend, smiling in her seat as she waves you down. Two plates of food directly in front of her.

“I told you I was at the library! That’s literally the opposite side of campus, Sho!” Rolling your eyes playfully, you take a seat in the chair across from her, letting your bag slide off your back and fall to the ground beside you.

“I know, what gives? I thought you couldn’t stand the silence there.” She perks her eyebrow upwards at you.

You immediately regret bringing it up. Nonchalantly, you shrug your shoulders in hopes she won’t pry more. “I guess I just figured I’d change it up.”

“Oh?” Shoko places her elbow on the table and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. “You’re not usually one for change. You literally order the exact same thing every time we come here.” She grins as she shoves a plate of food directly in front of you. You look down at it to see three carne asada tacos, your typical order.

“Man, I really am predictable huh?” You laugh as you grab the plate in front of you and pick up a taco. “Thanks, Sho, I’ll send you some money.”

“Don’t you dare!” She furrows her brow while maintaining her grin. “My treat today! I know you’ve been working hard.” Her eyes soften as she begins to pick up her food, before she takes a bite she asks, “How’s your mom doing?”

You shrug as you chew, “Oh you know, she has her good days and bad days.” Shoko nods as she watches you intently.

You both love and hate how good she is at reading you. Sometimes you wonder, maybe she should be the one studying psychology. You let out a sigh, giving into her gaze. “Last night when I got home from work, she kept calling for my dad. Every time I tell her he’s gone it’s like she’s going through the grief all over again.  She wouldn’t believe me until my aunt got involved.”

Shoko gives you a concerned look, “Oh, y/n. That must have been tough. Let me know if there’s anything you need. I’m so glad your aunt bought the house next door to you. Her being around to step in must be a huge help.”

“Yeah…it’s helped a lot. Just knowing someone is close by to her while I’m at class and work is reassuring. It’s helped me focus on my studies more.” You half-heartedly smile at Shoko.

Shoko groans, “You work too hard y/n. But I’ve been thinking~ since you’re in dire need of a break, how about we decompress tonight?”

You raise your eyebrow at your friend as you grab another taco, “Decompress?”

She grins at you mischievously. Oh boy…what is she planning?

Shoko reaches into her bag and pulls out a piece of paper. The wooden table shakes as she slams in down in front of you and her grin widens. You look down and observe what appears to be a flyer. In bold lettering you read ‘The Blue Note Club. Live Music this Friday. Featuring bands Beyond Tempo, Shades of Infinity and Forgotten Flash. 5-dollar admission, music starts at 7pm.’

“I’ve seen this flyer posted all around campus. Everyone’s been talking about it. Let’s have a girl’s night out! It’s tonight! I know how much you love live music!” Shoko’s eyes are glistening with excitement, her grin ear to ear.

You return a nervous smile back. You do love live music, but you don’t do clubs. You’re not much of a party girl. It’s never really been your forte. Then again… you never really had the opportunity to let it be, given how you’re always taking care of your mom. Your mom started showing signs of dementia since you were ten after all. And with your dad out of the picture, it forced you to grow up real quick. “Oh, I don’t know, Sho…”

“Come onnnnn y/n!” Her fingers interlock together towards you as she pleads childishly. There is a glimmer in her eye that tugs at your heart.

“I really should be studying tonight… I have a huge project coming up.” You say, but as usual, Shoko reads you like a book. She knows it’s an excuse.

“So, study tomorrow! I know you have the day off work!” Her arm nudges you softly and there is that grin again. She was not giving up.

Hmm, well maybe if you’re just honest…she’ll let you off the hook? “Sho, you know this is not really my crowd… a club? It’s not something I usually do.”

“True – but I thought you said you felt like changing it up today? Miss, study at the library.” she beams. “So, let’s change things up! You need a night out to decompress y/n. You’ve been shouldering so much lately! Let’s let loose!”

Well damn… she used your own words against you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give in? She’s not wrong after all, you have been taking on a lot. What’s the worst that could happen?

As a deep sigh escapes your lips, you roll your eyes smiling, and in that moment, Shoko knows she’s won. Her grin widens and her eyebrows flash up. “Fine. I’ll let my aunt know I’ll be home late tonight. That way she can keep an eye on my mom for me.”

“Great!” Shoko sits up proudly. “I’ll meet you at your house and get us an uber to the club.”

“That’s okay. I can DD - I don’t mind!” You reply.

“Absolutely not. That defeats the whole purpose. You’re letting loose tonight.” She slightly crumples the flyer as she shoves it back into her bag. “Anyways, I gotta start heading to my next class.” You smile and nod as you continue to chew your last taco. She hustles as she quickly gets her things together and grabs her empty food tray. “I’m glad I was able to have lunch with you and I’m looking forward to tonight! I’ll see you after your last class.”

Lifting herself from her seat, she begins to walk away, but then her body turns around before she is out the door. You catch her voice ringing towards you, and you can hear her smile, “I’m coming over early so that I can do your makeup!” Returning a smile, you wave goodbye, nodding.

Maybe Shoko’s right. A night out couldn’t hurt… right?

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

“Why can’t I wear this?” you groan as Shoko rustles through your closet, pulling out multiple dresses and holding them up beside you.

She glances over at you in your ripped jeans and band t-shirt. “What you’re wearing now isn’t bad, just not the vibe we’re going for.” She grins. “I want you to look like a bombshell tonight. The boys will be all over you.” She continues to search your closet.

“Sho, you know I don’t like unnecessary attention,” you whine.

She peers back at you from the closet with a grin. “Guess it’s a good thing you felt like changing it up today, hmm?”

You were never going to live down those words. Flopping backwards on your bed, a chuckle escapes you as you stare up at the ceiling. Shoko has always been supportive in getting you out of your comfort zone. She’s your best friend and your biggest advocate. She’s the one that encouraged you to learn guitar. The one who listened to you sing with enthusiasm.The one who sat there eagerly as she heeded every song you wrote growing up, even the cringy ones. She nurtured the passions you had, the passions your own mother would often forget.

“Oh, THIS is the one!” Shoko gleams as she holds up a deep red dress from your closet.

You put on the dress and Shoko squeals as her vision comes to life. You wear black tights and ebony suede ankle heeled boots. The deep crimson dress hangs low across your chest, but it is not too revealing. The red compliments the natural strawberry brown hue to your beach wavy hair. It hugs your waist and flows down at your hips, stopping right above your knee. Shoko lent you her raven-colored leather jacket, giving you a casual yet sexy rocker-esque vibe.

“You look perfect,” she gasps. “Okay, I’ll get dressed next and then we’ll do makeup!”

Shoko wears a simple yet flattering black dress. The top of the dress is flowy and silky, classy yet seductive. She wears white elegant pumps and the bottom leather skirt hugs her figure gracefully, accentuating her curves.  

The two of you begin your make-up. Your best friend was true to her word. You feel… good. Sexy. Confident. The rose smokey eyeshadow and candy apple lipstick constructing a mysterious and fierce part of you. A part you didn’t know existed, but was thrilled to explore.

“Ready to head out? Our Uber should be here any minute now.” Shoko watches you admire your fit in the mirror.

“Yup! Ready than ever!” You smile. When was the last time you felt this excited about going out? Was there ever a time? Maybe this night out will be everything you need.

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

As your uber approaches the club’s entrance, nerves begin to take over while you observe the crowd of people clustered outside. Now you’re wondering, can you really pull this off?  You’ve gone to a couple clubs before, but nowhere near as eventful as this club is tonight. The flyer Shoko showed you was posted all over campus after all. And the few times you did go to a club it was as the role of DD. You’re quite familiar with being seen as the casual friend accompanying the bombshell babe – but now you are playing the role of the bombshell babe.

Shoko and you approach the entryway – the sensation of the tremoring music bleeds outside the booming building. “Ladies.” A bouncer stands directly beside the door to greet you, flickering an arrogant smirk with a gentle nod of his head. His dyed blonde hair is accented with dark green roots, and you notice three piercings in his left ear.  You read his nametag, Naoya Zenin. His sharp brown eyes lock onto you as you politely smile back at him – for a moment he seems completely enchanted, captured in your beauty. Shoko peers over to you from the side and grins slyly.

“Two entries please!” Shoko says, making Naoya’s gaze snap away from you momentarily like a rubber band.

“Right,” he clears his throat and his form tenses as he straightens his posture. “Five dollars each, and I’ll need to see your ID’s.”

When you hand him your ID with your cash, you feel his fingertips brush gently across yours, lingering a little longer than usual. He checks your IDs under the fraud light and then returns them to you. You feel the cool ink of the round red stamp as he presses it firmly against the back of your wrist – proof of your admission. “Have fun.”

As you enter the building, the blast of music bellows in your face, a feeling you’ve become all too familiar with from your part time job. For a moment you are exhilarated, the sound of live music always makes you feel alive and you genuinely love the vibrations as they resonate throughout your body, giving you a sense of instant relief. But that moment ends as soon as it begins – your shoulders stiffen and your eyes widen as you observe that you are not in your element.  Looking around you see people dancing, some innocently, others lustfully grinding on top of each other. The smell of alcohol and marijuana sting your nostrils, and you glimpse at people making out in the corners of the room non discreetly. Your body tumbles forward as Shoko grabs your arm and leads you towards the direction of the bar.

“I can tell you’re nervous. Don’t overthink it, we’re here to have fun!” She smiles back warmly at you. “You’re already catching eyes – that bouncer couldn’t keep his off you,” her elbow nudges you as you take a seat in the leather barstool beside her.

A defeated sigh slips through your lips. “I don’t even know where to start. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

“We just got here, don’t give up yet! This is where we start – you just need a little liquid courage,” her lips curl up into a grin as she waves down the bartender.

Shoko orders you a shot of whiskey to kick off the night. You clink your shot glass against hers and tilt your head back – the sharp harsh liquor burns as it slides down your throat. You immediately feel its effects kick in, slightly taking off the edge of your nerves.

You and Shoko enjoy another round, and you loosen up even more. As you begin to work on your third drink, you see Shoko’s eyes suddenly expand and a wide grin stretches even farther across her face. As Shoko’s best friend, you know that look all too well. She was smitten, intently focused on someone behind you. Curious, you shift your gaze over your shoulder and catch sight of a man with long raven hair, rich as ripe wheat hung in loose, tousled waves to his shoulders. Half of his hair was tamed back into a bun, with a tousle falling loose fluttering against his lashes. He has round gauges on both earlobes – sleeves of tattoos cover his built arms. It’s no wonder she is captivated. He was beautiful.

He’s sharing a drink with a blonde-haired boy – another striking and beautiful man. The blonde’s face is sharp and defined, his hair short and aptly combed. His expression slightly unamused from whatever the black-haired boy is laughing about to him. He’s wearing a deep blue button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. A loose tie hangs around the collar of his shirt.

You direct your gaze back at Shoko. “Someone catch your eye?” As the words come out, you are unable to hold back a smile to your friend.

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

You really didn’t give this much thought, but before you know it, you’re heading in the direction of the two men. Maybe it’s the warmth you feel rising throughout your body that grants you this assertiveness. The moment you lift yourself from the seat of the bar and trek towards them, your body sways like you’re on a boat – unable to control the trajectory of your speed, you bump through the figures of mingling people. Your eyes are focused on the black-haired man as you pull Shoko by the hand and lead her directly towards him. Remnants of her voice echo behind you – feeling the weight of her feet trudge after you, she tries to resist your pull, and you’re unable to fully make out what she’s saying. Her voice being wrapped through the sounds of the club don’t help your current inability to focus on anything else other than this hasty decision you suddenly set out to achieve.

Holding Shoko’s hand, you halt in front of the two men. “Hey boys! Here to see a band in particular?”

The boys look at each other momentarily before turning their heads towards you, a brief smile on their faces. “You could say something like that. How about you?” The blonde replies.

You don’t even have the chance to answer his question – simply because your body sways at the sound of a familiar voice. Were you imagining it? White snowy hair glistens from the luminous lights of the club as he saunters towards the group. “Suguru, Kento – Beyond Tempo is finishing up their set. It’s time for us to start getting ready for sound check.”

Your heart skips a beat as reality sets up. The Satoru Gojo was here. And damnit was he beautiful. The black V-neck tee perfecting hugging his muscles, his iconic round sunglasses hanging from the center of the slit. His black ripped jeans giving him an alternative look, and his flawless silky hair loosely set around the structure of his dimpled smile – deep sapphire eyes luring you in like a siren would a sailor. His eyes drift to you as he approaches, uniting with yours momentarily until you quickly break the gaze as you look away, swallowing hard with anticipation. Fuck, you needed another drink.

“No way, y/n?” He says with a cheeky smile. “I was wondering where you went off too, especially after I didn’t see you by the water fountain today. Guess I should cancel that missing person report.”

Shoko’s devious grin plasters her face as she stumbles forward and locks her arm in yours, her weight leaning against you and her cheeks tinted red from the intoxicant. “Oh? You two know each other? Aren’t you going to introduce me y/n?”

Great. Now you really needed another drink. You take a quick moment to embrace the warmth of the alcohol as it envelopes your body, giving into its effects. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now. “Ha-ha, very funny,” you roll your eyes at Satoru. “Gojo, this is my best friend Shoko Ieiri. Sho, this is Satoru Gojo. He shops at the music shop that I work at.”

The dark-haired man approaches Satoru and playfully taps his back. “So, you finally checked that shop out. Told you they have better deals.” Turning towards you and Shoko he smiles. “I’m Suguru Geto, and this is Kento Nanami. We’re all in the next band up, Shades of Infinity.”

“Oh wow! That’s awesome. Can’t wait to hear you guys play.” Shoko glees at Suguru.

You can see from the corner of your eye that Satoru’s focus doesn’t waver from you during this entire exchange – his gaze burns you more than the liquor inside you. You hear the band Beyond Tempo wrapping up. The lead front man speaking into the mic, thanking the audience for their time. People applauding in the background. You can barely concentrate, partly from the liquor, but also from the intense effect of Satoru’s gaze – provoking your pulse to resonate throughout your entire being.

“That’s our queue. We gotta set up,” Kento turns towards the stage. “Nice meeting you ladies.” He waves and ushers towards the platform with Suguru.

Satoru stays behind momentarily. “Hope you’ll cheer me on. Gotta break in these new drumsticks,” he lifts them from his back pocket, waving them playfully in front of you while granting an affectionate wink. He begins to follow his bandmates, but then shifts back slightly stopping in his tracks. “Let’s meet up after the show–” He waves, not giving you a moment to reply as he quickly sets out to the stage – the image of his broad shoulders shifting through the crowd.

You release a breath you didn’t’ realize you were holding, and Shoko’s arm tightens around yours. “Okay, who was that?”  She never fails to see right through you.

“I’d like another drink.”

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

After you and Shoko order another round, you tell her everything that happened yesterday involving Satoru Gojo. You’re unable to stop the words from sliding out your mouth, they slip out like glassy ice unable for you to grasp. Each declaration uncovering a part of you that you have always chose to ignore – the vulnerable side of you. Because the truth is you’re infatuated with Satoru Gojo. The mere image of him enraptures you and ignites a sensual curiosity – but it goes against everything you believe. After all, being vulnerable only leads to getting hurt. That’s what you’ve observed with your mother.

Shoko grins at you, “So he’s the reason you weren’t at the water fountain today, hmm?”

Glancing over at the stage, you watch Satoru’s focused expression while he sets up his ear piece for sound check. Biting your lip, you groan and turn towards Shoko, “I mean, can you blame me? Just look at him.”

“Oh, believe me, I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“Enough about me, what about you and Geto?”

“Oh. I want to fuck him,” she smirks and speaks blankly.

“Gross Sho,” you roll your eyes laughing.

“What? It’s a natural desire. Sounds like you want to fuck Gojo. Why not let him take your v-card?”

Don’t get Sho wrong, you definitely want to experience things with Satoru Gojo. And although you haven’t had sex, you’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of lust. Growing up, you are Sho would often stay up all night, talking about celebrity crushes, your ideal types, and your inherent deal breakers. You’ve explored the “ins and outs” of your body as well, discovering what pleasures you in more ways than one, and although you’ve had many opportunities to, you would never cross the line of letting someone else explore it – specifically in fear of not being able to separate lust from potential love.

“Not happening,” you allege. “But I’ll happily be your wing woman for Geto.”

Shoko’s eyes glint in excitement. She looks towards the stage and observes Suguru as he sifts through wires – his violet fender Stratocaster hanging across his shoulders. “Really? God, he’s so hot.”

You chuckle at Shoko and raise your drink to your lips. The alcohol was enveloping you in a gentle sway, but it breaks momentarily as you spring from the sound of Suguru’s voice echoing through the speakers as he speaks directly into the microphone.

“Test, test. One. Two. Three.”

People in the bar begin to shift their attention towards the performers on stage. You watch as a crowd begins to huddle around the half-moon platform. You feel Shoko’s hand grasp yours and suddenly you’re being pulled out of your seat, escorted in the direction of the pit. Your eyes flick through the crowd and are drawn towards that familiar ivory head as he sits behind the drums, foot tapping the kick of his bass drum and fingers delicately twirling the pristine new drumstick he purchased. You watch his fingers spin the drumstick effortlessly, and you can’t help but imagine how skilled those fingers are in other ways.

“Thank you everyone for coming out today. We’re Shades of Infinity.”

Suguru’s hand brushes against the strings of his guitar, Kento joining in plucking at his bass while Satoru strikes his drum with intricate and encapsulating rhythmic beats. And suddenly, you are enthralled in the vibrations of the melody that raptures your core. You find your body unknowingly moving to each pulsation, and Shoko joins you. Gently closing your eyes as you move, Suguru’s soft voice cascading through the speakers like a smooth red wine. Upon opening your eyes, you see Satoru watching you – a smug smile enfolding his lips.

Time passes effortlessly – before you know it, Suguru is announcing the final song.  The crowd is going wild for them – the atmosphere in the club seems to have changed since they went on stage. It seems everyone is much more invigorated from their performance compared to the last band playing. You’re having so much fun now, it’s hard to imagine how apprehensive you were at the beginning of the night. You and Shoko dance with enthusiasm, a slight stream of sweat on your brows as you give your bodies to the cadence. And suddenly, the set it over and the boys are packing up. You glance over at Shoko, sharing an exhilarated smile with her.

“Let’s cool off and get another drink.” Sho says breathily.

You make your way back over to the bar, taking a seat to catch your breath. As you begin to sip your drink, you notice a familiar face approaching you. The bouncer – Naoya Zenin.

“Hey! That was some great dancing out there.” He speaks with a conceited smile to you.

“Oh, thanks!” You politely respond. Shoko peers over at you with a knowing smirk.

“My shift is over – but you know I haven’t seen you around here before? This your first time here?”

“Oh…yeah. I’m not much of a club girl myself. This is my first time coming here.”

“Wow, really? Well, I figured I hadn’t seen you before because there is no way I would forget someone as stunning as yourself. What brings you here?”

Before you can respond a familiar voice cuts the air. “Ohhh~ you could say she came to cheer me, her boyfriend on during his performance.” Suddenly, Gojo’s arm springs around Naoya’s shoulder as he leans his weight against him and blinks those sapphire iris’ directly into his core – Satoru’s head is tilted with a smirk curled around those cocky lips. His tone is lively, but with that recognizably slight undertone that is without doubt, telling Naoya to fuck off.

Shoko nearly spits her drink out and you can’t stop your own dumbfounded smile from his initiative, unable to comprehend if maybe you’ve just had too much to drink – did he really make that declaration, again.

“Oh…I didn’t realize you were taken. Excuse me.” Naoya awkwardly releases himself from Satoru’s grasp, patently annoyed, and immediately clears off. Satoru proudly shoves his hands in his pockets and gives you that familiar smug grin.

“You know, it’s quite rude to give him the wrong idea,” you respond sharply, the alcohol making it impossible to hold your tongue.  

“Is it? You didn’t say the same thing yesterday in your shop.”

“That was different. What If I wanted to talk to him?” You didn’t. But it wouldn’t hurt throwing the idea out there. After all, you were infatuated with Satoru Gojo, and rather than admitting that it’s easier to push him away.

Satoru raises a brow slightly, humming at you with a shit eating grin that makes you question if you want to slap him or kiss him, “If that’s the case, why didn’t you stop him?” Okay, actually you want to slap him for seeing right through you.

Unwilling to respond, you decide to deflect by asking him, “Well, why did you tell him we’re dating?”

Shoko attempts to hide her smile behind the glass of her drink – taking a sip while her eyes flash between you and Gojo, clearly enjoying your amusing banter.

He shrugs, “for fun? Nothing wrong with a little theatrics. Besides, you’re the one who doesn’t pay attention to your surroundings. Figure I’d save you the headache. That guy’s a sleaze – every time I come here he’s picking up a different girl.”

“Well, I think I can judge what kind of person he is for myself. Also, I don’t need your protection,” you scoff. “Besides, I get the feeling you’re not much different than him considering how full of yourself you are.”

He leans himself against the bar, setting his elbow on the counter and resting his cheek in the curve of his palm. “Ouch – insult me more, it’s hot. Didn’t expect there to be a feisty side to you.” His smug grin doesn’t falter, managing to make you feel irritated yet also aroused.

“Jesus, Gojo. There are plenty of sides of me you don’t know. Not like we’re actually dating – I wouldn’t even consider us friends.”

“Yeah, well personally I’d like to learn about more sides of you. Actually, I would love for you to come to our afterparty tonight.” He reaches his other hand into his pocket and grabs a folded piece of paper – he slides his slender fingertips across the marble bar counter, lifting them gently to expose the parchment directly in front of you. “We’re heading over there now. Here’s the address.”

Suguru’s graveled voice cuts through the loud atmosphere of the club. “Satoru – quit goofing off and help us pack the car. Let’s get out of here.”

“Right.” Satoru taps his hand on the bar counter as if to say he’d better do as Suguru says or he’s in for it. “Gotta get to it. Hope to see you ladies there,” he lifts himself from his relaxed position and veers back to the platform.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you feel Shoko’s self-satisfied grin bearing into you. “I already know what you’re going to say,” you exhale.

“Oh, we’re going.”

.・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・゜゜・♪・゜゜・. ♪ .・

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading 💙 I had a lot of fun writing this chapter!

Taglist: @catobsessedlady

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk series #satoru smut #series #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru #jujustu kaisen #gojo smut #satorugojo #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff

[vivalas-vega]

longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

heyooo! new fic alert - with bradley !!! i'm not sure i even want to call this part one as it's more of an intro but here we are. super excited to finally be writing for mr. bradshaw, and even more excited to be revisiting this idea from back when this was exclusively a star wars blog and my writing was ass compared to now (professor poe dameron, anyone?) anyways, i wanted to get this out to get some feedback -- as always please please please let me know what you think !!!

longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader (nickname dove!)

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mention of parental death -- general warnings going forward: typical 18+ content (drinking, swearing, smut, the works), me not knowing anything about college - this is my ideal world where everything works how I want it to not how it probably is :) (prob should mention this is not an au)

You relaxed as you stood in the aisle of the dimly-lit bookstore, taking in a deep breath of that new book smell and coffee from the in-house cafe, a smell so recognizable you almost felt the urge to cry as you reminisced. Your fingers nimbly opened a book, eyes scanning the description hidden within but you weren’t really absorbing the words so you closed it with a soft thud and slid it back onto the shelf. You continued to make your way through the store, thoughts as scattered as your approach to book shopping tonight but that was because you weren’t really shopping at all.

You weren’t even entirely sure why you’d come in, the comfort of your old college hangout called out to offer solace on your drive home and you couldn’t resist. You felt like the walls were caving in and to be standing in such a meaningful place, looking the same as it ever did, wrapped you in a sense of security. Your guard was beginning to drop for what felt like the first time in years and it was in that exact moment that you bumped into a familiar stranger, their voice raising the hairs on the back of your neck and flooding you with memories of a different time.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, let me help you…”

“Shit, my bad. Let me get that,” the handsome stranger that had just walked straight into you quickly knelt to pick up the books you’d both dropped. You felt your cheeks flush as you suddenly felt embarrassed, your wits already weren’t about you this morning and here you were colliding into the solid man currently gathering up your belongings in a perfectly fitted button up with a mustache that shouldn’t have worked and beautiful brown eyes. 

“That’s alright, everyone needs a little jolt to keep them awake in the mornings,” you replied easily. You wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t checking him out, and it only made you flush further as he handed you your things, “Professor Bradshaw?” you asked, gesturing to the ID badge pinned to his pants and he nodded. “Weird coincidence, I was actually on my way to introduce myself to you,” you said before giving him your name, trying to put your earlier thoughts out of your head as his warm hand wrapped around yours to shake.

“Ah, yes… you applied to be my teaching assistant,” he said and you nodded. 

“Figured it would be harder to tell me no if I came to pitch myself in person,” you chuckled.

“I take it you haven’t checked your email yet this morning?” he asked and you gave him a confused look. “Save the elevator pitch, I was inviting you to coffee to get to know you better and go over expectations.”

“Expectations? Does that mean I got it?” you asked, excitement palpable. “I thought you only accepted students who had taken your class before?”

“Decided to make an exception for you,” he replied with an easy smile. “Does three work for you? Here?”

You nodded, “absolutely, I’ll see you then. I promise you won’t regret this, Professor Bradshaw.”

“Please, call me Bradley.”

“Professor Bradshaw,” you said with a smirk as he looked up at you, and he quickly fumbled with the books before standing to give you a proper once over. 

“Professor,” he sighed, “you know I hate that.”

“I know,” you responded. “Nice to see that this is still your go-to spot.”

“Old habits die hard,” he chuckled, “are you back home because of your parents?” he asked and you nodded, and you didn’t miss the solemn expression that passed over his features before he quickly corrected it. “I’m so sorry, Dove.”

You smiled softly, “haven’t heard that name in a while,” you replied, dodging past his condolences entirely.

“Sometimes I forget it’s not actually your name,” he chuckled. “Half expect the banner at the bottom of the screen to say Dove and I’m always shocked when it doesn’t.”

“You’ve been watching?” you asked, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Of course I have,” he replied as if it would have been absurd for him not to. You lapsed into comfortable silence as the two of you drank each other in, noting what had changed and what had stayed the same… you had to keep from squinting at him because he looked the same as he did four years ago, maybe the lines around his eyes were a little deeper when he smiled but it was the only indication that any time had passed at all. 

You were taller, which he couldn’t reconcile until he glanced down and saw the stilettos on your feet, sharp and black and perfectly matching the black suit vest and jeans you wore. Your style was the same, classic and a little academic with an edge, only now it seemed more elevated, you seemed more elevated. 

“How long have you been in town?” he finally asked.

“Only a few days,” you answered, “feel like my head is spinning with how unchanged everything is… and this certainly isn’t helping my deja vu,” you chuckled.

“If I remember correctly this is right about the same spot you ran into me all those years ago,” he said, looking around and you gave him an incredulous look.

“Me? It was you who ran into me, just like you did a few minutes ago,” you said through a laugh and he shrugged.

“He said she said,” he replied as you shook your head. “Well, how long are you here for?”

“Indefinitely, I’m afraid,” you said and he gave you a confused look. “Dealing with typical dead parents stuff, turns out there’s a lot more to it than one would think.”

He nodded in understanding, “yeah, no one prepares you for all the paperwork.”

“That and they were too busy to keep up on the house… I always knew it needed some love but I’ve got a contractor telling me it basically needs a top to bottom renovation,” you sighed. “But hey, it’s a nice distraction from Capitol Hill.”

“You’re not rushing to get back?”

“God no, if I even go back at all,” you said with a soft laugh and now he was really surprised. “Oh,” you said, suddenly a little self conscious about how much you’d already said in this bookstore aisle, “I’m keeping you.”

He shook his head, “you’re not. It’s not everyday I run into my favorite student,” he said and you couldn’t help but flush.

“Still? Guess I set the bar too high,” you teased and he nodded.

“If only you knew,” he chuckled. “I would love to see you again though, actually catch up if you have any free time?” 

You smiled as you fished your phone out of your bag, “I would love that,” you said as you exchanged phones to input your numbers. 

“I’ll text you,” he said and you were about to part ways but you were unsure of how to do so… you didn’t want to simply walk away, but you didn’t know if a handshake were too formal or a hug too personal, but he made the decision for you, already seeing the gears turning in your head as he opened his arms subtly and you softly laughed as you stepped in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It really is good to see you, Dove.”

“You too, Rooster,” you replied and he gave you a squeeze before letting you go as he laughed.

“Still regret telling you that.”

“What? You can use my callsign but I can’t use yours?” you asked with a smirk as you started walking backwards away from him. 

“You don’t have a callsign!”

“Then what’s Dove?” you retorted and he didn’t have an answer, and so you gave him a soft nod as you turned for the register, and as you checked out you were unable to keep the smile off your face. Everything about returning home had been jarring, but not this… not him. Your favorite professor, your mentor, maybe even your friend towards the end of your working relationship. Your mind had been reeling as you tried to piece together what life would be like now with your career up in the air and your parents gone, and for the first time in weeks you felt like maybe this trip home wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fan fiction #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fan fiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fan fiction #rooster fanfiction #rooster fluff #rooster smut #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

[rafeyssangel]

hi hi. I loved ur new works, i was wondering if u did stepcest or best friends das?

if so can u do either step!dad!rafe where he's known her for a week and her mother went on a girl's trip or something, so you know (smut smut smut)

ORRRRRR

reader went out side where her bestfriends dad, rafe, is out by the pool because her friend fell asleep so reader snuck outside to see shirtless rafe

JUST THE BESTFRIENDS DAD / r. cameron

answer: i'm not totally familiar with stepcest, much less comfortable with it - i'd have to do more research about it (r.i.p my search history) for me to actually write about it in the future

warnings: cheating, mentions of cheating, smut, fingering, pool sex (don't do this or cheat), public sex, p in v, getting caught

wc: 1.0k

you were spending the night at your friends place, both of you were nineteen. your friend had been stolen into the arms of slumber, so you went outside by the pool for a swim. it must’ve been like ten pm, because nobody else was moving in the house.

when you stepped outside, you saw rafe—your friends dad. nervously, you clear you throat “ahem.”

rafe’s eyes shot to you, looking away from his phone “what’re you doing out here, kid? ava’s in the house.”

“i know, she’s asleep so i just came outside.” you muttered to yourself.

rafe just nodded “so you gon’ swim?” he shut off his phone, making a lump form in your throat.

he sat up fully from the sunbed as you nodded. “want company?” he said, hoping you would only see the totally innocent intentions, despite there being other intentions.

“isn’t that inappropriate? don’t you have a wife?” you said timidly, picking at your fingers.

rafe shook his head, “it’s not like ‘m asking you to sleep with me.” he stood up, he had like a good foot over you, making him tower over you. “just a swim.”

hesitatingly you nodded, sliding off your jean shorts. you bikini was a bit to small, showing off your curves more than it would've if would if they fit. rafe let out a whistle, making you flustered "mr. cameron.. that's not appropriate-"

"okay? it's just me and you." rafe jumped into the pool, as he came back up he gestured for you to come to him.

you hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the situation settle over you. rafe's eyes, even in the dim light, held a glimmer that made you uneasy. but the allure of the cool water was tempting, especially after the warm day.

you slid off your tank top, leaving you in just your bikini. taking a deep breath, you stepped to the edge of the pool. rafe watched you intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. with a small splash, you jumped in, the water enveloping you in its refreshing embrace.

as you surfaced, rafe was already close by, his presence dominating the space. "see? just a swim," he said with a casual shrug, though his gaze lingered a bit too long.

you nodded, trying to relax. "yeah, just a swim," you echoed, forcing a smile.

the two of you swam in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the gentle splashes and the distant hum of crickets. rafe was surprisingly agile in the water, moving with a confidence that made you feel self-conscious.

eventually, he spoke again, his voice low. "you know, you're a lot more grown-up than i remember," he said, his eyes scanning your face.

you felt your cheeks flush, not sure how to respond. "thanks, i guess," you mumbled, looking away.

rafe swam closer, his proximity making your heart race. "i mean it," he said softly. "you're a beautiful young woman."

you swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the air thicken. "i should probably go back inside," you said quickly, turning to swim towards the ladder.

before you could reach it, rafe's hand gently grabbed your wrist. "hey, don't go just yet," he said, his grip firm but not painful. "i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

you looked back at him, unsure of what to say. his expression was sincere, but there was still that underlying intensity that made you uneasy. "i just… i don't think this is a good idea," you said quietly.

"it's a innocent swim with a innocent comment." rafe pointed out, slowly wrapping his fingers on your jaw "is princess thinking dirty thoughts? i bet your little outfits ruined for thinking sluty little thoughts."

your head tried to jerk away, but he wouldn't let you. "where you going? i'm not done." rafe shook his head, his free hand slipping to your waist "just keep being a slut, i'll treat you like one. understand me?"

you nodded softly, your bottom lip sagging as you give a mock-pout "i jus' don wanna' mess up your marriage."

"don't worry about that. i caught her cheating, just think of it as revenge. but we both want it." rafe placed his hands on both sides of the pool, caging you in. his finger looped the noodle string that was holding your bikini together. his finger twitched slightly as he un-did the bikini bottom. he pulled your bottoms away from you, setting them on the side of the pool.

he tugged his swim shorts away from his body, pulling your legs around his torso. "ray.." you whispered, "it's so.. so.." you where mesmerized by his cock that was large, covered in pre-cum, the water lasped over your bodies.

"it's so what? finish the sentence babygirl." rafe hissed, his finger teasing your pulsating clit. he slide his thick finger inside of you, making you let out a whine. as your head rolled back, his finger teasingly slide out of you before forcing it back into your clit.

your head rolls back with a smack against the concrete “ray!” you shouted as he guided you in and out your high.

“yeah, baby?” he replied snarky. “you think you your nice and stretched out?”

as you nodded “m-mhm, ray. i- i— i need you.” you mumbled, the rest coming out incoherently. without warning, he pounds into your tiny little cunt, making you mewl “ray, slow— slow down!”

rafe shook his head “no, i’d never cum if i went slow, you do want my baby don’t you?” his hands pulled at your disheveled hair, making you whine and mewl as you tense around his cock.

“fu-fuck. you tryna’ chop my dick off?” rafe groaned, his head rolling onto your shoulder as he bullied his way into your pussy.

as he reached his high, you followed suit. your chest heaved in harmony “best pussy I got in a while.”

you nodded tiredly; letting out a whine as he pulled out of you, picking you up out of the pool, sitting you on the edge, “don’t waste a drop of my cum, understand?” his finger swiped down your folds, collecting his cum before pushing it into your mouth “you like that, better than that popsicle early?” you let out a soft whine, sucking on his fingers.

“d-dad?” ava’s voice rang as she dropped her phone. “y/n?” her phone shattered against the concrete, hurt covering her expression.

#rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #bestfriends!dad!rafe #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe x you

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Chapter 2

A/N: Has anyone else been watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs? Just Me? I haven't decided yet who I want to be in the final ever since my Canes have been eliminated... Anyways! All this to say that it's been fun writing this hockey fic while watching hockey, and I hope everyone enjoys reading this latest chapter :)

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Despite having played the Kraken in Seattle once last season, Cassian has to admit it’s pretty nice being on the home side of Climate Pledge Arena. Sure, playing in a place like Madison Square Garden most nights was a dream, one he held since he was just a boy, but there’s something to be said about all the upgrades and modernity that a newer arena has to offer.

Following the director of team services out of the elevator, they come to a set of frosted glass doors, the Kraken logo split between the two. As they step closer, the doors automatically slide open, revealing the locker room, and Cassian barely swallows down an impressed whistle. It’s certainly spacious, even for an NHL locker room, LED lights and the Kraken logo displayed on the ceiling. At least, he won’t have to worry about stepping on it here.

“Valdarez.��

Cassian turns just in time to see a tall man walking toward him, blonde hair cut short and beard trimmed to just a stubble along his cheeks. His grin is wide and easy, revealing the chipped upper tooth on the left side. It’s easy enough for Cassian to recognize the captain of the team, Fionn Donoch. He still remembers watching him lift the Cup back when Cassian was just a teen.

“Wanted to make sure I came down to meet you myself,” Fionn continues, holding out his hand for Cassian to shake.

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to come down and remind me who’s really in charge here?”

Fionn laughs good naturedly at the joke, slapping Cassian on the back. “You’re going to fit right in here. So, what do you think so far?”

Cassian glances around the locker room again, thinking back to the practice facilities he’d toured earlier. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice, all the fancy arena upgrades.”

“Definitely not the worst place to call home, right? Listen, they don’t have the ice down yet, but I can still show you if you want.”

At Cassian’s nod, Fionn leads the way out of the locker room. They pass through a glass lined hallway, Fionn explaining how during game days, it’s lit with blue LED lights, how fans typically line the other side, banging the glass and getting the boys going. Then they’re stepping onto the home bench and the arena floor, and Cassian gets to appreciate what the view will be from ice level. He turns slowly in a circle, taking in the stands, the scoreboards, the afternoon light streaming through the wall of windows.

He takes a deep breath in, and for a moment, he can almost hear it. The blare of the goal horn. The roar of the crowd. He can almost feel the cool bite off the ice against his cheeks. Can almost feel the surety, the peace that comes from having it beneath his skates, from the comfortable weight of a stick in his hands.

“Have you met with Miller yet?”

Cassian shakes his head of the daydream, turning back toward Fionn. “Yeah, I met with the whole staff earlier this morning.”

He and Fionn continue to talk shop, talk the system, before making their way together toward the garage and their cars. Or, in Cassian’s case, his rental car until he’s able to secure a new apartment and get all his things shipped out. He supposes he should check in with that realtor Eris connected him with again.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out,” Fionn tells him, offering another easy grin as he hits the remote of his car. “Even if it’s just food recommendations.”

“Thanks, but I’m actually meant to be meeting up with a friend after this. She’s going to give me the whole tour of the city and all that.”

“She, huh? Let me know if I need to pass her number along to the wife. I don’t think they’ve done dues yet for this season.”

Cassian chuckles at the teasing smirk on Fionn’s face, the implication of his words. But then he thinks back to Nesta. Thinks back to the photos of her Instagram, to those icy blue eyes and that damn expression on her face. He can’t deny there’s been a low, simmering heat in his gut all morning, sparking at the fact he finally gets to meet Nesta, finally gets to witness that fire in person.

“Only if I’m lucky.”

~ * * * ~

Large, looping letters declare Grumpy & Sunshine Books above the door, the window display to the left of the door decked out with an artsy display of flowers and hanging book pages. Cassian glances down at the phone in his hand, the Map displayed on the screen there, confirming he’s in the right place. With a nod, he pockets his phone and presses forward, stepping through the front door.

The scent of paper and ink greets him as soon as Cassian steps inside, along with something vanilla. A candle that he can’t see? There’s a table display of books immediately inside, and Cassian casts them a cursory glance, taking in more looping text and what looks to be a variety of cartoon characters on the covers. He weaves around shelves and more table displays, past a wall of vines and succulents and a pink neon sign declaring Most ardently.

And at the very center of the store, Cassian finds the register and the woman he’s looking for bent over a book behind it. Cassian had known Nesta was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen since he first saw her picture, but seeing her in person is another thing altogether. Seeing her standing there in front of him almost has him wanting to drop down to his knees right there in the middle of the bookstore.

Her hair is braided back in an intricate updo, but with her head bent down, a strand of golden brown hair tumbles down her temple and kisses her jawline. Deft fingers brush the hair aside and behind her ear absently, further revealing the sharp cut of her cheekbones. When she turns the page of her book, her lips part, eyebrows jumping, and Cassian thinks he might give anything to see her eyes properly, to see if they spark and flare along with whatever she’s just read.

He’d give anything to have those eyes on him.

“Reading on the job?”

Nesta snaps her book closed, her attention finally rising, and Cassian gets his first look at those blue eyes he’s so often thought about. They’re a similar shade to Feyre’s, sure, and yet so different somehow. They seem to burn with a silver fire that leaves the cool shade of them looking like a storm roiled sea, especially when that gaze narrows on him, her lips pinching into a scowl.

Cassian doesn’t let the reaction deter him. If anything, it only stokes the embers in his own chest, beckoning him into the flames. He closes the final few steps between them, leaning against the register counter with a smirk.

“Nesta Archeron,” Cassian greets.

“Cassian Valdarez.”

His name falling from her lips shouldn’t sound as sweet as it does, especially with the clipped tone she speaks it, but a zing of electricity still skitters down Cassian’s spine nonetheless. What would it take to have her saying his name again? To have her sighing it? For him to taste it?

“So you do know me, then?” Cassian drawls, daring to glance down at her book. A Calanmai Secret. “And yet, you couldn’t answer any of my texts.”

Nesta crosses her arms, leveling him with a hard look that Cassian is sure is meant to send him running. “Most people would take that as a hint. Yet here you are. In my bookstore.”

“Feyre said you’d show me around the city.”

“Feyre asked me to show you around. I don’t recall ever agreeing.”

“I’m starting to think you’re the grumpy on the sign outside,” Cassian chuckles softly, hoping to at least earn the hint of a smile at his teasing joke.

Instead, Nesta settles both hands on the register counter, leaning forward. “Buy something. Or get out of my store.”

Cassian tilts his head, taken back by the harsh reaction. He’ll clearly have to work harder to get her to smile or laugh. Challenge accepted. Already, he can hear Az’s voice in his mind, making a dry comment about his taste in women. Already, he can see the way Rhys would roll his eyes.

“Fine,” Cassian says easily with a shrug, stepping back from the register counter. “The historical section is…?”

Nesta merely points to a bookshelf to his left, so Cassian turns his attention toward it. He grabs the first book within reach, the spine a blue and green. He’s intent on striding right back up to Nesta and proudly purchasing the book, but then he catches sight of the cover. Of the shirtless man that takes up the cover, the model’s skin clearly oiled up so every ridge of muscle is on full display. A tartan hangs low on the man’s hips, and just above the man the title is scrawled, Highland Escape.

“This… is not what I meant.”

Rather than direct him toward the historical fiction section, Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, her lips tugging up into a smirk. And, oh, there’s a real challenge blazing in her gaze now, that fire that had called to Cassian even in photo form sparking in her blue eyes. It’s beautiful, that look on her face, daring him to play.

He glances around the bookstore again, this time with fresh eyes. The greenery on the walls, the different table displays, the pink neon sign with an Austen quote. Of course. He’d heard of bookstores like these, ones that specialize in romance novels.

When he looks back toward Nesta, she has that same daring expression on her face, her smirk already starting to grow as though she’s won. As beautiful as it is, as beautiful as she is, Cassian refuses to back down. Heat flares through his chest as he fights back a smirk of his own, more than ready to keep this game of theirs going. He clears his throat and turns back to the shelf, sliding the book in his hand back into place. He takes his time reading the different titles along the spine before finally settling on a different book, tugging it free and sidling back up at the register counter.

“I’ll take this one,” Cassian tells Nesta with a grin, sliding the book across to her.

Nesta hums, glancing down toward the book he’s selected. Viking Bride. Cassian waits for the mask to slip, to see a hint of a reaction take over her face, but she’s nothing but cool and silent as she rings him up. The transaction complete, she tucks his receipt into the cover of the book, sliding it back over to him.

“Have a nice day,” Nesta offers, her tone mockingly sweet.

Cassian reaches for the book, his fingers brushing along Nesta’s own until she snatches her hand away. “You know, I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”

Nesta snorts and rolls her eyes. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Oh, yeah, Nes, you’re a real ray of sunshine right now.”

“Don’t call me that.”

There’s no stopping Cassian’s smirk at earning that reaction, a little tidbit he tucks away, even as he continues, “but it’s not really fair, is it? I mean, you don’t even know me. This is literally our first time ever meeting. What could I have possibly done?”

Nesta’s face falls, a new emotion flashing through her blue eyes. It’s certainly the cool, haughty mask slipping away, but not how Cassian wanted. He frowns at the sudden change, but before he can even begin to attempt to decipher what that emotion is, what that expression could mean, Nesta turns away from him.

“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta doesn’t know what she expected. She knew, in the back of her mind, that despite never responding to a single one of Cassian’s texts, that that wouldn’t be the last of things. But she can’t say she expected him to show up at her bookstore. Didn’t expect him to stride in with a smirk and an easy confidence, to almost proudly buy a viking romance novel.

She wants to hate that he still looks as good as the last time she saw him at Feyre’s engagement party. His hair is loose, dark curls hanging around his temples and tumbling down to his shoulders. His eyes are a hazel as bright as Nesta remembers, a maze of greens and golds that seem to spark with a flickering flame. And that cocksure smile has no damn right being as attractive as it is.

She wants to hate the way he didn’t back down from her ire, from all the quips she threw his way. Instead, he only seemed to rise to meet her, seemed to enjoy it as though it was a game between them. She wants to deny the way his fingers brushing against hers sent a shiver ricocheting up her arm and down her spine.

And he doesn’t even remember her.

She’d felt stupid that night in New York, but she feels even more stupid now. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology or anything, but this is like a slap in the face. And on the heels of that churning feeling roiling through her gut is anger. It burns red hot through her veins, flaring like a wildfire that licks between her ribs.

“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”

Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, that cocksure smirk finally slipping. “You want me to leave you alone?”

“What are you doing here?”

Nesta’s attention snaps toward the new voice, finding Emerie standing just inside the door, her brown eyes narrowed on Cassian.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Cassian answers easily despite Emerie’s clipped question. He holds his hand out toward her to shake, but Emerie doesn’t take it. “I’m Cassian.”

“I know who you are,” Emerie tells him airily, stepping behind the register counter.

She reaches out as she passes, fingers curling around Nesta’s wrist and squeezing lightly. It’s a silent question out of view of Cassian’s eyes, to check that she’s alright. Nesta meets her best friend’s gaze and offers the smallest hint of a nod.

“You do? Are you a hockey fan, then?” Cassian asks, unaware of the silent conversation happening without him.

Emerie snorts at the implication. “No. There’s only one hockey fan in this bookstore, and it’s not me.”

“I feel like you don’t like me either…” Cassian comments quietly, tilting his head slightly. “Is everyone the grumpy on the sign? You might want to consider a new name if there’s no sunshine.”

“Gwyn is the sunshine, and trust me when I say you’re lucky that you don’t have to deal with her.”

Nesta has to press her lips together to keep from laughing at the way Cassian’s eyes widen slightly in horror. It’s certainly not a misplaced expression. Gwyn was one of Nesta’s first friends when she first moved to Seattle, and while the redhead is one of the kindest people Nesta has ever met, she’s also the fiercest. Beneath all the bright smiles and easy laughs there’s a viciousness that can and will be released, especially when it comes to those Gwyn cares about.

“I don’t know. You said there’s one hockey fan, right? And I’m guessing it’s this Gwyn. Maybe I do want to meet her. We can talk all things Kraken.”

“Gwyn’s a Nashville fan,” Nesta informs Cassian. “They’re her hometown team.”

And dedicated to her hometown team she is. Nesta doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the first time she and Gwyn went to grab dinner at a sport’s bar, the first time witnessing the way Gwyn ranted and shouted at the large television on the wall.

Nesta waits for Cassian’s face to drop again at this newest tidbit, but what she doesn’t expect is for his grin to grow wider and stretch across his face, for the golds of his eyes to glint. He looks like a child that just stepped foot into a candy store, like this is exactly what he was waiting for, and it has Nesta frowning in confusion.

“My brother plays for the Preds. Azriel. You know, if she wanted, I could probably get her a signed jersey.”

“Gwyn would absolutely lose her mind,” Emerie comments under her breath.

“And what’s the price for this signed jersey?” Nesta dares to ask, squinting suspiciously at Cassian.

Cassian shrugs a shoulder, all faux innocence. “Well, you clearly don’t want to give me a tour, so how about just dinner? You can give me a list of your recommendations then.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“A dinner for a jersey. Sounds like a fair trade to me. Don’t you think, Nes?”

Nesta sighs, shaking her head. “Fine. One dinner and in exchange, you’ll get a Nashville jersey signed. By the whole team.”

Cassian’s smile twists into a smirk, gaze flickering and darkening as he holds his hand out across the register counter. “It’s a bargain.”

Nesta already knows she’s going to regret this, but she reaches forward, sliding her hand into Cassian’s. His fingers curl around her own with ease, his grip surprisingly gentle. His hand is so large compared to her own, practically swallowing hers whole, and the callouses slide against her palm when she pulls her hand back. She has to forcibly shove down a shiver before it can skitter up her spine in reaction.

“Let’s go, then,” Nesta says, gathering up her things where she stored them beneath the register.

She and Emerie share one final look before Nesta leads Cassian out the door and back onto the street. Thankfully, it’s a short walk to one of the local restaurants that focuses on PNW cuisine, a good introduction for Cassian to the city and area.

“So, I have to ask,” Cassian begins once they’re seated at a small table near the back of the restaurant, the waitress vanishing with their drink order.

“Ask about what?” Nesta asks, not even bothering to look up from the menu even though she already knows what she’s going to order.

“About the bookstore.”

Nesta’s gaze flicks over the top of the menu in her hands, eyes narrowing. “Some people like to read, meathead.”

Cassian tips his head back and lets out a booming laugh, earning a few curious looks from the other tables. “Did you really just call me a meathead?”

“I’ve seen you play, seen you fighting other players on the ice.”

“Are you watching my games, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, leaning across the table to smirk at her, those hazel eyes of his glinting in amusement again.

Nesta rolls her eyes, leaning forward as well to sneer, “you wish. I told you, Gwyn is a Nashville fan. I occasionally watch a game with her.”

Cassian hums, and Nesta bristles at the way he continues to eye her. Something about those hazel eyes is almost unsettling, as though he’s looking through her in a way no one ever has. It takes everything within her not to shift in her seat, to simply turn her attention back to her menu.

“History.”

Nesta looks up again with a frown. “What?”

“History,” Cassian repeats, leaning back casually in his chair. “That’s what my degree is in.”

“I thought hockey players got drafted at eighteen? That’s what Gwyn has always said at least.”

“That’s true, but not everyone joins the NHL right out of the draft. I played for my college team for two years before I was finally called up.”

“And what? You magically finished your degree in two years?”

Cassian laughs again, this time a low chuckle that’s surprisingly warm, that practically wraps itself around Nesta’s limbs. “Lucky for me, there’s this really amazing thing called online classes.”

“Oh.”

Nesta doesn’t know what else to say to that, but thankfully, she’s spared when their waitress returns to their table, ready to take their food orders. When she steps away again, Nesta no longer has her menu to use as a distraction, has nowhere else to look except at the man sitting across the table from her. The low light of the restaurant cuts shadows across his cheeks and jaw, the candles on each table flickering in and deepening the hazel of his eyes. The large span of his hand is on full display as he curls his fingers easily around the bottle of wine he ordered, filling Nesta’s glass before he fills his own.

“You never answered my question,” Cassian tells her, setting the bottle back down. “About the bookstore.”

“I told you, some people enjoy reading. Myself included.”

“Yeah, but I remember Feyre talking about how you went to law school, that you’d be terrorizing courtrooms and making everyone regret going up against you. So, what happened? How do you go from lawyer to bookstore owner?”

The urge to lash out, to make a snapping reply that diverts the conversation, claws up Nesta’s throat. She rarely talks about it, about him. The reason she made the move to Seattle in the first place, leaving a gaping wound as big as the distance between them with her sisters. The reason the dream she thought she had, the dream she swore she always wanted, shattered between her fingers like glass, shards cutting deep and leaving her bloodied. The reason she retreated and fell back into the shadows, that Emerie and Gwyn had to pull her out.

There are days where it all still feels so raw, no matter how much time has passed. Days where a sickening feeling will churn through her gut as soon as she opens her eyes. Days where she can still hear his voice, still feel his hands. Days where the voice in her mind morphs into her own worst thoughts, into her mother’s clipped, cool tone.

“My life fell apart, and I decided to open a bookstore with my friends,” Nesta finally answers with a derisive drawl. “Happy?”

Cassian’s face falls, lips tugging down in a small frown. “What does that mean?”

Nesta doesn’t want his pity. It’s the one thing she hates most, people looking at her with pity in their eyes. As though they feel sorry for her, as though she’s weak. When she finally walked away, finally got out, she swore to herself that she would never be weak again, and she’ll be damned if she starts now.

“Last I checked, I don’t have to tell you my whole life story. I answered your question, did I not?”

“Nes–”

“You get one dinner as part of our bargain, remember? Do you really want to ruin it?”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #Top Shelf Love #my fic

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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen

TW: nsfw, violence, angst

“What–”

“The fuck you think you’re doing, McCauley?” 

The cop on the stool–who is clearly drunk–turns his attention to Tom towering behind you. “Just enjoying the view, Ludz. She’s got great tits.”  

He’s clearly stupid too. 

A second passes that feels like an eternity, before Tom bursts into action, knocking the asshole off the barstool with one punch. There’s a wave of outcry through the crowd, but before anyone can do anything, Ludlow has the guy up by the collar and is marching him out of the bar. You watch through the dimmed front windows, barely able to see past the crowd, as there’s more of a scuffle between the two on the sidewalk. It doesn’t last long at all–Ludlow hits the guy like a hurricane, knocking him down flat, before stalking away back inside. 

“Sorry about that asshole,” says Tom, barely broken a sweat, though you can’t help but notice his knuckles are torn. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go get you patched up.” Surely he has a first aid kit in his car. 

However, he can tell something has changed. He turns your gaze up to his with a hand on your cheek, searching your eyes. “What’s wrong? What did he say to you? Swear to god, I’ll fucking kill him.”

You grab onto his arm before this high strung man can march back outside and finish the job, if the idiot has not yet cleared out. 

“He said you’re married,” you inform him, doing your own search of his soul as you drop this bomb. 

“What?” He seems genuinely confused. 

“He said I should be careful, or I’ll end up like your wife?”

Tom shakes his head with a growl. “Fucking asshole. No, I’m not married, sweetheart, I promise you.” 

“Then…?” It’s only getting louder in the bar as the night goes on, and you can barely hear each other now. It’s not the best place to have a serious conversation, and maybe he senses that you’re not going to enjoy yourself again until that conversation is had. You’re not the type to take a don’t worry about it at face value. 

Tom sighs, throws some money down on the bar and lifts you down off your stool. “Come on.”

The ease with which he manhandles you is almost more intoxicating than the vodka you’ve just consumed. 

He almost tries to carry you out of the damn bar, but you protest against that vehemently. 

You spill out onto the sidewalk, and find the asshole has indeed made himself scarce. There’s a dark stain on the concrete that might be a little splatter of blood. You decide to ignore it. 

“I’m guessing you want me to take you home?” It squeezes your heart, how disappointed he sounds, but you nod anyway. You walk back to his car in silence, only broken when you thank him softly for opening the door for you. 

He starts the Charger’s engine, the thing growling to life like a beast of the jungle. His expression matches the sound of the car, thunderous and maybe a little feral. You don’t prod him as he drives, waiting. He knows very well what you want to know. It takes the whole journey home and him parking on the street before he’s willing to open his mouth again, and even then it’s begrudgingly. 

He turns towards you in the seat, taking your little hand in his. He’s very interested in your silver rings, and you think you just might die from the suspense. 

If this man is married, you are swearing off the dumber sex forever. 

“I was married,” he finally begins. “She died of a blood clot in her brain. She was with another man, and he just dumped her on the sidewalk in front of the hospital where you work, like she was a sack of garbage. She died alone, and I’ve never been able to find out who the fucker was that treated her like that.”

You know your eyes are the size of half dollars by the time he finishes his tale. You think you might recognize this story, told by the nurses in the trauma center from a few years back. “What was her name?”

“Cheryl.” 

“Fuck. I…heard about that, from the other nurses. God, Tom, I’m so sorry.” 

At least you know he’s not lying. 

He just nods, but he won’t look at you, and it chews your heart up. Finally you reach for him, physically turning his gaze back to yours. His eyes in that moment are black pits of despair, and a part of you is sorry for ever asking, even though you had every right to know. 

“Come upstairs with me,” you say. “I’ll patch up your hand.”

He looks down at his excoriated knuckles, grins, shakes off that abused puppy dog look. You can tell he’s about as good with emotions as you are, which is going to be a match made in hell, but it doesn’t really matter right now when you want him so bad you can taste it. 

“Alright, I guess if you’re gonna force me.” 

“Nurse’s orders. Come on.”

“Bossy. I like it.” You roll your eyes, but utterly fail at suppressing a grin. You had to hand it to him. He knew how to lighten the mood from misery to humor in two seconds. You suppose that came with his occupation. Otherwise, you’d go mad.

He trails behind you, your tall shadow, letting you lead the way through the security door and up the stairs. When you let him into your tiny one bedroom apartment he smiles, looking around with the curious eyes of a detective. You're sure after five seconds he could describe the scene with 99 percent accuracy, down to the colors of the tapestry hanging above your blue couch, and how many house plants you managed to cram in the one good window in the kitchen.

“Have a seat,” you invite, waving towards the couch while you go to get your medical kit.

He perches himself on the edge of the couch, almost awkwardly. It's kind of cute, and something you don’t expect from this brutish man. 

“The couch doesn’t bite,” you tell him, setting your little first aid bag on the stand and then taking his hand rather boldly in your own. 

“Sorry, feel like I’m gonna ruin your cute place with my man smell, or something.”

You giggle, resisting the urge to tell him that if he wants to rub against everything in here like a cat in heat and leave it smelling just like him, you won’t mind it at all. 

His woodsy spice would pair nicely with your patchouli-lavender candles and sandalwood incense.

“You’ve broken your knuckles a lot,” you inform him absentmindedly while cleaning his fist. You can tell by how prominent they are, how the ones in his left hand-his dominant hand-are bigger than the ones in his right. You’d hate to be on the receiving end of this fist when he’s mad.

“Yeah?” While you dote on his hand, wrapping and cleaning, his heavy attention is fully on you, and it would make you blush and squirm if you weren’t so focused on patching him up. 

“How many fights have you been in?”

“I lost count. You?” 

You scoff. “Hey, I actually have been in one fight.” 

He gives a little whistle. “I was actually expecting that number to be higher, feisty girl.” 

“Nah.”

“Okay, so who’d you fight on the school playground?” 

You roll your eyes. “It was an ex.” You know you should learn to think before you speak, because fuck if that doesn’t open up a whole other can of worms when you watch those huge knuckles flex white while the rest of him visibly tenses.

“He beat you up?” His voice is low, quiet, it makes you want to turn the convo back around into playful territory again. 

“Yeah.” You try to smile, play off the tension. “And I hit him with a flower pot.” 

“What’s his name?” 

It’s a horrible mistake to ever make direct eye contact with Tom, but especially in this circumstance. Even though his orbs are as black as the consuming ocean, the color of anger in them is vibrant and burning. 

“It was a long time ago. Back in Kansas.”

He uses his other big hand to cup your cheek, run a calloused thumb over your bottom lip. “I’m gonna find out who he is whether you like it or not, honey.” 

A cold steel spike of adrenaline straightens your spine when you understand his implication. “Tom, he lives in Kansas.”

“That’s the problem.”

You blink at him stupidly. “What?”

“That he lives.” 

You would roll your eyes and swat his hand away and tell him to get real because you’ve heard all this shit before from other men who thought they were valiant, vengeful knights in armor. So, yeah, you would just brush him off with a scoff, but you have this feeling—and maybe it’s because of what happened at the bar or maybe it’s because of him “arresting” Julian or maybe it’s because of his terrifying tenacious persistence—that Tom will actually find him and wreck his shit. 

The idea should not turn you on. It really fucking shouldn’t. And, since his knuckles are bandaged and you need to cut some of this tension and the alcohol still buzzes pleasantly in your veins, you lean up and distract him with a little wet kiss.  

His eyes get softer for you, which is a mini power trip of its own, and he hazards a smile again. “Alright, alright. You fixed me, now I’m gonna fix you.”

You’re confused for a minute until he scoops an arm behind your knees and drapes your legs over his lap, settling back into the cushions.

The hem of your dress rides up over your thighs again, giving him a little peek of the cute, perpetually damp panties, before you can wiggle your legs shut and tug the fabric back down.

He adjusts you, asks if you’re comfortable while propping your knees on a pillow and turning sideways. 

“I’m-yeah, I'm comfy. What’re you doing, Tom?”

“I’m gonna give you that massage I promised.”

Deja Vu. Two massages in one month from a hot doctor and a cop? You feel like an absolute little whore. “Wait, Tom, you don’t have to-“

He silences you with his mouth over yours, swallows the nervous words and turns them into a sweet moan. God, this man can kiss. You’ve never considered yourself unintelligent, but his lips make you absolutely stupid. 

He untangles your hands from his hair, because apparently they ended up there somehow, sets them in your lap, and pulls away with a little trail of saliva. “Settle down,” he murmurs, guiding you back onto the throw pillows. “I’ve got you.” 

“Really, you don’t,” you try with halfhearted sincerity.

“You know,” he says, making you jump when he engulfs your right foot in his hand. “My aunt, she had a chihuahua.” 

“Yeah? Okay? Was it cute?” 

His fingers press deep into your arch, and it’s actually really pleasant. The muscles in your foot, overworked and underpaid, sing for his hands as they knead the ache out. 

You debate whether or not to tell him he’s better at this than an actual doctor who studies human anatomy, but he already looks like his ego has grown impossibly bigger throughout the night, so maybe you’ll save the praises for later when his dick is inside of your weeping, furious cunt. 

“She was. You remind me of her.”

“I remind you. Of a chihuahua?” You feel the tension in your body fade while he works. “Okay, that actually feels really fucking good.” 

“You do. Tiny, nippy, sweet once you warm up to someone. Adorable.” He knuckles your heel and you sigh in pleasure, pressing back into his hand. 

“I’m gonna pretend you’re complimenting me just because of this amazing foot rub.” 

“Well, I’ve already told you how smart and great you are, and I’ve already told you how pretty you are, so the only two things left, obviously, are either comparing you to a chihuahua or telling you how sexy you look in this dress and how hard it’s been not to rip it in half the entire night.”

You swallow your nerves and your rationality. “So, do it.” Then, you rethink, because this dress was thirty damn dollars and you like it. “Okay, maybe just take it off.” 

This is when he offers you the most infuriating smirk in the history of mankind. “Maybe when I get up there…” 

Waiting doesn't feel like a valid option, because you're pretty sure you’re on the brink of self-combustion. His hands on your feet are heaven, and he’s even moved those strong hands up to your calves, and you just wish he would keep going until he could find for himself exactly the damage he’s wreaked on your panties this whole time.

You collapse back on the arm of the couch dramatically, fighting not to squirm in the grip of your pent up desire. “Tom Ludlow,” you grouse, “I think you might be an evil man.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, lifts your ankle up to kiss and graze with that rough, tickling stubble, makes you giggle, then turns the laugh into a groan while his tongue travels the length of your calf, right up to the bend in your knee. 

“Fucking shit.” It’s more your cunt talking than you, now, while he nibbles and kisses supple flesh. It's such a strange spot, one that you never thought could be erogenous in any way. And he finds so many of those tender slices of you with his mouth and hands that you’re sure by the end of it—panting and teary eyed and already asking please—it’s just the proverbial Tom Ludlow effect. 

His hands move up your calves, thighs, skip the important stuff, which you curse at him for, a mean protest that he subdues by tugging your dress up and kissing your pantyline. 

“You always give massages with your mouth?”

You don’t know how it’s possible, but that smirk just gets wickeder. “You need me that bad, baby?” 

He would fucking make you tell him about it. 

Not sure who you’re more annoyed with, him or yourself, you look away, huffing under your breath.

“Oh, no pouting, beautiful, a man can only take so much.” Suddenly he has grabbed you up, dragging you across the couch so that you are laying on top of him. All this happens in the blink of an eye–you’re not proud of the girlish yip that escapes you.

It only seems to spur him on, his mouth finding yours in one of those toe-curling, brain-melting kisses. “I am trying to prove to you that I’m a nice guy, remember?”

“Hmm,” you say cheekily, feigning amnesia. He is so broad and solid beneath you, that you just might pass out. “Seems unlikely. Your kisses are very nice though.”

“Oh?” He kisses your forehead, cheeks, the bridge of your nose, makes you laugh and bury your head into his neck where he uses the new found position to kiss your hair. 

You have to chastise him a little bit when he pulls you up by your hips so his mouth can pepper kisses on your throat and shoulders, not because you don’t love being handled like that stuffed bunny you won, but more because you love it a little bit too much, and a girl could really get used to this. 

“S’wrong, thought you liked my kisses?” He licks at the hollow of your throat, presses that knife of a grin to your jugular and sucks. 

You have so much you could say, and all of it is lost in the wet, heated sin of this moment. You should be frightened of how preoccupied you are with everything that is Tom—the delicious, dark cologne, the solid weight, the burning, roaming, calloused hands—except you don’t have enough sense to be scared because he’s suckling your neck and teasing your dress higher and higher and higher until his fingertips graze the bottom of your ass and you make a pathetic sound with a bonus hip thrust just to add to the humiliation. 

He pushes open your thighs just a tiny bit. “You want me to touch you?” He asks, tickling down the crease of your butt, so fucking close to where you need him. 

“I can’t-yes. Yes. Touch me.” 

His thumbs run the tops of your inner thighs, and you press down for more, absolutely positive you’re whining like that chihuahua he mentioned earlier. 

“Here?” He asks, and the humor in his voice makes your bare toes curl against his calves. 

“Maybe here?” He tries, smoothing the pantyline that covers the very start of your puffy cunt. “Oh, you’re soaked under here, huh?” 

“Tom. Please. Fuck.” 

“I bet.” He covers the center of you completely with three fingers. “I bet I could fit right in - nice and tight and comfy.” 

You grind down onto his hand. “Yeah, yeah, do that.” 

You let out an exasperated cry when he retreats from your center, moving to trace the lacy edge of your panties on your butt cheek, slipping his fingertip just inside the seam. Even that is enough to make you writhe against him; the impressive (perhaps even intimidating) bulge in his pants beneath you is driving you equally mad.

You decide to take matters into your own shaking hands, sitting up to straddle him, reaching for his belt, the buckle jangling beneath your fingers. You’ve never met a man who could resist it, once his dick was out.

But he outmaneuvers you in that too, pushing your hands away to wrench the leather free of its loops. The resulting crack raises every little hair on your body; yet you don’t have the sense to be terribly afraid.

Either that, or…you trust this man.

“So I’ve been thinking, about you, and Dr. Bitch, and what exactly about him might have appealed to you.”

Nevermind the fact that Julian is a handsome, successful doctor…You’re smart enough not to say this aloud.

He reaches around you, securing your hands behind your back with a loop of the belt. “And I think what you want, Miss Tough Girl, is someone to take charge for you, just for a little while.” He adds another loop. “Someone you trust.” He lifts one of those perfect eyebrows, and something crucial inside you just melts. His voice softens. “Is this ok?”

He can probably tell by your body language alone—the cant of your hips, the flushing goosebumps dimpling your flesh, the little choked sounds of anticipation while he tightens his belt around your wrists—that this is more than okay, but that’s not good enough for him, so he cradles your cheek and runs his thumb over your lips while leaving one hand secured around the unfinished cinch of his belt. You reach out to kiss his fingertip, suck and taste as much as he’ll let you before he takes it away. “Is it okay, baby?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is it what you want?” You have never felt so seen in your life as in this moment, with this man’s penetrating dark eyes looking straight into your soul.

You realize you do trust Officer Tom Ludlow implicitly, not to hurt you physically, at least. You do not feel any of the uneasy trepidation you’d experienced with Dr. Julian, only a burning desire that, if not satisfied, will surely eat you alive. 

Licking your lips, trembling like a newborn fawn, you slowly nod.

“You know you’re safe with me?”

You nod again, and fuck if his wicked smile does not melt all the rest of your doubts, your inhibitions, and your sanity. He is so handsome it hurts, and you know it’s stupid, but you want to give him everything. 

He seals the deal with an expertly executed cinch of that belt, and fuck if it doesn’t echo something inside your heart falling into place for this man. 

“Good. Now come back here, I like you laying on top of me with all these luscious curves of yours.” He guides you back down on top of him, and you swear this man is going to fry some crucial wires in your brain, and turn you into a vegetable. You are doubly certain of this, when he catches your mouth with his, working you over with those plush lips in a way that absolutely makes you see stars. By the time he is done with you, he’s turned you into a quivering, needy mess on top of him, and you can tell he’s loving every minute of it.

Really, you’re easy to please after a lifetime of being touch starved and mostly void of the basic pleasures of human softness, so his everywhere hands and hungry mouth and bulky warmth are more than enough to drive you up the fucking wall, but then he adds those little coos of reassurance—the hushed repetition of “you’re safe, pretty girl”, “I got you”—and just absolutely destroys you. 

For most men the position he has you in would be a problem, but his arms are so long he can easily reach his intended prize–or grab two handfuls of it, squeezing the globes of your ass with a groan of appreciation. 

“Finally, I get some payback for the torture you put me through, having to watch you in your cute fucking scrubs but you wouldn’t let me touch you.”

“I’m sorry I wouldn’t let you feel me up at work?” There’s no real venom in your words as you fire back–how the tables have turned. 

“You’re going to be.” You can just hear the grin in his voice, and that alone is enough to make you squirm against him, burying your face in the bend of his neck. You kiss the column of his throat, sucking at his pulse; you feel the rumble of approval from deep in his chest, more than hear it. 

His big hands slide up your back, under your dress, kneading the tension and ache out and in all at the same time, and there is something maddening about this man’s touch that makes you feel uncharacteristically small, and vulnerable. When at last his hand rubs down, into the back of your panties, you think you just might die. The tip of his middle finger tests your weeping hole, just barely pressing in. Before you can even think to whine about it, his mouth is covering yours, swallowing your cries and your curses as he only slides into the first knuckle, teasing you with slow circles.

While he plays with your insides, his mouth does equal damage to your lips. Fast learner that he is, he’s come to find that if he just sucks and licks and nips your top lip swollen without really kissing you it makes you clamp and pulse rhythmically and desperately on his long digit. 

You unstick your mouth from his to plead your case, because if you don’t get more you’re going to fucking die, and he follows your lips with his teeth. 

“Wai-“ takes you back into a slow, awful, soaked kiss that sets every piece of you on fire, sizzles the skin and fat and meat off your body to leave only exposed nerve endings. 

Reasoning turns to begging fairly quickly when he finally lets you talk. “Want your fingers on my clit, please.”

He hums and pushes sweaty hair behind your ear. “Just my fingers? Not my tongue?” 

“No no no yes that’s better ok-“

“Shh.” He gives you a tiny peck, nuzzles his nose against yours, inspires a strangled gurgle of frustration. 

You're about to press the issue, but then he’s on top of you with your body pressed tight into the couch cushions. 

He really does dwarf you, gets concerned about his full weight and keeping it off your lungs. Unfortunately-fortunately-the position his caution inspires puts his mouth in line with your chest. 

Your chest, with which you so masterfully distracted him into missing his last shot in the shooting gallery.

You just know he’s thinking about that, as he glares down at your breasts as though they’d talked back to him. “I should cite these,” he says between planting open mouthed kisses to your cleavage, “for Reckless Endangerment.” He sucks at your tender flesh, hard enough that you know there will be a purple mark.

“I can’t help it that you looked,” you protest, arching against him. Here you are with your hands bound behind your back, with the cheek to talk back to this big, bad man pinning you down with his delicious weight–you must be missing some crucial wrinkle in your brain just for risk assessment.

He just clicks his tongue in answer. “Please keep talking back to me, sweet girl, it’s giving me ideas.”

Said ideas seem to include nibbling at your nipple through the thin satin of your bra, sending a jolt of longing straight to your already agonizingly aching cunt. “Please,” you beg, on the edge of losing your mind to this man’s touch. 

“I could spend all day giving these attention,” he tells you, ignoring your begging, flicking a path of saliva over the fabric covering your tits, landing a wide kiss on your other hardened bud while his thumb tweaks the tip of the last. 

You wish you could grind into the solid mass of him, but his weight pins your hips still, and this inspires a little feral growl that is, apparently, hilarious judging by his responding laugh. 

“That so?” He asks, finally giving you a proper hard suck that puts little teardrops in your lashes and conjures a strangled scream. “Didn’t think it through, huh?” 

“I hate you. You expect me to be able to think right now?”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s not fair,” he agrees with a wicked curl of lips. 

You think that maybe, just maybe, he might take some mercy on you, as he begins to move down your body. His long fingers hook in your panties, drawing them down your legs as slow as is humanly possible. You hold your breath, determined not to make the slightest sound of complaint, because if you do you just know he will punish you somehow.

With your ruffly skirt up around your waist he stares down at you, long enough that you almost wish you could cover yourself. Yet when his dark eyes roll up to meet yours, the intensity in his gaze makes your needy cunt clench so hard it borders on pain. “So fucking beautiful.” Suddenly it’s as though he is the one who cannot wait, scooping under your hips with his strong arms, holding you down with his big hand spread over your belly as his tongue dips into your center.

This is how you die.

From pure pleasure, and if he did not restrain you, you would have arched off of the couch as he laps at your clit, driving you wild with pointed licks and wide strokes of his tongue. He does not tease you with a single finger, gifting you two thick digits as deep inside you as he can reach, your needy cunt clenching fiercely upon him. It makes him groan, and he slides his fingers in and out of your velvety wet warmth as he takes you to heaven with his lush mouth. You fight not to crush his head with your thighs, your hips canted desperately as you strain for release.

“Oh, god, Tom…” You don’t know how you manage to form even that much of a coherent thought. The deep grumble of his approval vibrates against your pussy, straight to your womb, and you feel the tightening coil of pleasure tensing in your loins. It’s ridiculous, how fucking grateful you are that he doesnt tease you any longer, his clever, furious tongue shoving you over the edge of oblivion into a place of ecstasy that lasts for just a few, perfect, seconds. You’re not proud, but you scream nearly at the top of your lungs as it washes through you.

You’re afraid he’s going to think you’re a spazz, because there are tears in your eyes, and you literally cannot remember the last time anyone took such good care of you. Jesus fucking Christ. Do you say that? To this man, who was so generous to you, but is so fucking full of himself? He already knows he holds the keys to your castle. Does he have to have access to the inner sanctum too?

“My pretty girl,” he coaxes you with a kiss to your inner thigh, bringing you down so sweetly with his fingers still stretching you inside. “You taste so good, I could eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Just hearing it makes your pussy flutter around his fingers, and he smiles to himself, bestowing your clit with one last lazy lick.

“Fuck. Tom!” You're not sure if you’re begging, or protesting, at this point.

When he slides out of you, you feel almost unbearably bereft of him, too empty for words, only able to watch with a lazy gaze as he sucks your glistening cum off his fingers.

Those damp fingers flick some tears off your face. “You alright?”

You try a little timid smile. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“Good, cuz I might have to make you cum again just to see that pretty look on your face.” 

You squirm in either protest or agreement, unsure if your body can handle more so soon. It would be kind of like going from 0 to 100. Plus, your hands are going a little numb underneath you. 

He must sense your hesitation, great detective that he is, and helps you sit up. 

“Why don’t you lay on your belly? Let me put a pillow under your hips?” 

Even though your body is thoroughly stimulated, it bristles at the idea of him inside of you. The idea of getting him closer, of having more of him is intoxicating, enthralling. 

He pulls your bottom lip from the sharp grip of your teeth, and kisses the sting away. “C’mon, I know you can give me more than that, beautiful.” 

You don’t know why you feel so embarrassed asking for this, but your eyes can’t focus on his own when you open your mouth. “Are you—can you be inside of me?” 

“Ass up and I’ll think about it.” 

And you do—you do end up with your ass in the air, dress pooled around your hips, cool air licking at your soaked cunt that you didn’t realize would be so open for his viewing pleasure. 

You squirm, huff, make him laugh. He kisses the hill of your bottom and gives the crease of your thigh a little singing slap. 

“Ow,” you whine, attempting to slide away from his fingers. He settles you back into place with a tug on the belt around your wrists and then kisses the little raw red mark left from his hand. 

“Let’s take a vacation so I can spend it sucking on this pretty pussy.” He flicks his tongue over the plumped back of your cunt.

“Tommmm.” Frustrated. Because he promised—okay, he said maybe—he would fuck you if you got into this vulnerable position, and instead he’s just teasing you with his tongue again, cleaning up all that sensitive sticky flesh and coaxing you back into a needy little creature. 

You hear blessed fabric being pulled and shifted, the telltale sign of his beautiful cock springing free, and this has never happened to you before, but when you look back at him, your mouth actually waters. He’s perfect. Dark, plush hair, florid, plump tip with just a tiny bead of cum dolloped on top that you desperately want to lick into your mouth. The tops of his thighs are bulky and lined with muscle. He’s thick and slim in the right places, eats his goddamn wheaties, that’s for sure, and you want to taste every inch of that tight olive skin. 

He pets the length of his shaft with his thumb, grips the head, and smiles at the probably stupid little look of awe on your face. “You good?” 

Spectacular. Goddamn fantastic. “Take the rest of your clothes off. Let me see you.” You don’t even care that you’re basically begging at this point. Anything to see him, feel him sliding inside your deprived, clenching cunt. Anything for him. 

His smile does not waver, as his hands go to the buttons of his shirt. He is not shy about laying himself bare, but then, why would he be? He’s the most gorgeous specimen of male beauty you’ve ever seen. You make a small sound, when all his clothes are in a pile on the floor, and his broad chest is on full display.

You cannot stop staring.

His smile widens a little, though there is a softness in his eyes for you that melts you even more as he lets you stare at the beautiful length of him. All you can really do is look at him, so much so that it strains your neck and makes the space between your shoulder blades ache. 

He takes that wonderful appendage between his legs and presses the bulk of it inside your pussy lips, grinding the head against your clit and getting the whole thing nice and soaked in preparation. “You know,” he grunts, “when I first saw you in that waiting room, I thought you were beautiful.”

His sweet words contrast so beautifully with the filthy slipping tease of his cock, and you could cum from the combination, but you’d much rather do that with him stretching you open and pounding into your desperate pussy. “Tom, want you.” You take a ragged breath when he presses his tip more firmly against your clit. 

“You got me, baby,” he soothes, steadying the thrum of your hips with his sure grip. 

He’s so close to sinking inside you, splitting you open, filling you in a way that’s surely. going to ruin you for any other man. You sob into the pillows, hands knuckled tight around the thick leather of his belt when his head presses against your gasping entrance. 

“Please please please.” You’re not even sure if you’re begging aloud or if your voice is even coherent at this point. All you know is Tom, and he’s all you want to know. 

He sinks into you, deeper than his fingers and tongue, deeper than anything you’ve ever experienced. You feel more whole, in this moment, than you have in a very long time with him nudged up against your cervix, with his warm hips pressing into your ass. Maybe you never realized just how empty you were up until now. 

He doesn’t sound much better off than you do, and you can tell by the tightening of his thigh muscles he’s trying to give it to you slow and deep, just like you told him on the phone, instead of fucking into you like a depraved animal. 

You giggle when he curses, using this new found position to wiggle your hips and push him deeper, wrenching sharp groans from the both of you. 

“Jesus, fuck.” He spreads you open so that he can watch himself sink in and out, see your overfilled cunt milk him slowly. “I knew you’d feel like heaven,” he growls. “Do you have any idea how insane you’ve been making me?”

When he reaches to touch your clit with his thick cock filling you to the brim, your smug laughter dies on your lips, replaced by a hedonistic moan, a sound you hardly recognize as coming from your own mouth. 

“Yeah?” he says, as though you’ve said something actually intelligible. “Is that good, baby? You like my fingers while I fuck you with this big cock?” The panting strain in this steadfast man’s voice, who is usually so in control, is as maddening as all the rest. That this man goes to pieces for you is as intoxicating as it is seemingly unbelievable.

“Yes,” is all you can manage, your face pressed into the cushions of the couch, your hips straining for him even though it must be physically impossible for you to take any more. After the fury of your first orgasm, you don’t know how it’s possible that your body could deliver again, but by some miracle you feel it filling the cradle of your hips, the clench and burn of your nerves desperate to immolate themselves again.

You have a feeling this miracle has a name, and it is Tom Ludlow.

“You gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” 

You absolutely are.

You answer him with a fierce squeeze that makes him curse again. You feel him trembling behind you, fighting not to drive himself inside you with total abandon. You decide that you want that. You want to feel him come undone, to fuck you the way he wants to. For once you’re not afraid. You want to give him everything. 

“Harder,” you pant. “It’s ok. Take me. I want you.” He stutters in his rhythm behind you, as though just the thought is almost enough to drive him over.

“You sure, baby girl?” His big hand makes a soothing circle over the globe of your ass. It makes you purr like a cat, and you know you are utterly lost to this man.

“Yes.”

He gives a tiny thrust, hitting just right, pinching your clit at the same time, taunting. “You positive?”

“Fuck you, Tom. Just fuck me. Please.” 

And he does. Not only understands the assignment, but goes above and beyond to achieve it. Your first orgasm on his cock is white hot, back arching, lip splitting. You think for a second you might pass out, like when you’re laughing too hard or stand up too fast, but he’s still drilling away. Rubbing diligently with three disperse fingers, staying right there despite having to fight against his own girth getting in the way and the absolutely slippery soaked mess between your bodies. 

“There you go,” he praises, “you deserve it, honey. Take it all.” His words are broken, voice evident with the threat of his own release. 

You’re an absolute mess, wracked with sobs, clawing at the skin of your own back. He tugs you back, because you’re trying to unconsciously get away from the overwhelming stimulation, absolutely painfully and pleasurably fucking cock drunk. The sole focus of your body is where you are joined with Tom, where he is doing exactly what you asked. 

He leans over you so that his scratchy five o clock shadow presses into the crook of your shoulder and makes a shiver curl down your spine. He’s not doing it because he’s tired, he’s doing it so he can talk to you, whisper in your ear and lick your throat and take you deeper.

“One more, baby girl. Can you do that for me? Love feeling you cum on my cock. Could stay inside you for hours, sweet girl, give me another one.” 

Filthy words whispered so lovingly against your skin–who knew it could work out for you, for once, to be a people pleaser? That is, if this doesn’t kill you. But God, what a way to go. You have reached a point of euphoria and overstimulation where you are practically hovering outside your own body, watching yourself with a birds eye view as Tom absolutely rails you from behind. Defying your own expectation and hell, maybe even anatomical possibility, that scintillating pleasure explodes and spreads through your loins. You cry out into the couch, partly for happiness and in part for mercy. It’s all so much and you’ve never felt anything like it in your life.

“That’s my girl,” rasps Tom from above you. “So perfect. So good for me, giving me everything I want.” His thrusts become longer, more erratic, his tip bumping your cervix before withdrawing almost completely, then slamming back inside you again. You can hardly control your own body at this point, your every muscle trembling with the intensity of it all. “Love the way you take me. Want me to fill you up, beautiful?” 

If you had a brain cell left in your body, you might have found this amusing. The unflappable Tom Ludlow, babbling, for you? But somehow, at the the same time, amidst the desperate bump and grind of this carnal dance between you–it’s also impossibly sweet. Without a grain of shame left to your name, you beg for it. “Yes, I want you. Give me what’s mine, baby.”

With a groan that rattles you to the marrow of your bones Tom’s hips snap and lock against you, filling you with the hot rush of his seed. You cry out with him, meeting him as he spasms against you.

The world has taken on a hazy, golden edged focus. You are vaguely aware of deft fingers on your wrists, the belt loosening behind you. “You ok, baby?” He rubs your wrists, kissing the reddened skin.

“Yes.” You laugh, a sound of dazed joy. “More than ok. Jesus fucking christ, Tom.”

He collapses on the couch beside you with a knowing smile, pulling you into his arms, where you both rest in a breathless heap.

“Fuck,” he says softly, kissing the crown of your messy hair. 

“What?” You ask.

“We’re gonna have to get Plan B.” 

“I’m–” You are still trying to catch your breath, your face buried in his broad chest. “On birth control.”

“Sorry, I should have asked.” he kisses your hair again. “Just wanted inside you so bad.” 

You giggle for a little bit, and he laughs with you. For a minute, that’s all the both of you can do. It’s the after euphoria, that pleasant droopy high.  “Oh, how terrible of you, Tom.” 

“We should get you cleaned up,” he suggests, making no move to untangle himself from you. 

“Mm, yeah,” you agree, also not moving at all. 

The temptation of sleep looms closer and closer while you’re wrapped up in Tom, and you know you have to go to the bathroom because UTIs are never pleasant, but the thought of getting up almost makes you want to cry. Maybe Tom Ludlow knows more about female anatomy than you would give him credit for, though, and it makes you admire him even more. “Hey,” he says in a sleepy voice, rubbing your side. “C’mon. I’ll be right here waiting.” 

He helps you stand, kisses your tummy, and then waits patiently to pull you back into his arms where everything is golden and warm and safe. You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles. “Me too, honey.”

You fall asleep in his arms, and you’ve never, ever felt more safe.

#tom ludlow x reader #keanuverse fic #keanuverse