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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months ago

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Honey Girl. Chapter Ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Eleven. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - The two of you have some time to yourselves for what feels like the first time in forever.

Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x female reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. mention of a panic attack. initial hospital setting. one alcohol mention.

Word Count - 4k

Authors Note - 10!! 10 whole chapters!! can you believe it!! pancake recipe taken from mr carlos sainz - thanks carlito <3. double date next chapter (with protective/jealous bucky, as requested ;)). and the much awaited conversation… coming very soon. thanks for the love and support and kindness. it means the world, always <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“We can’t sit out here forever, honey.”

You stretch out your legs from where they’ve been tucked up against your chest, chin resting on your knees. Bucky places a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

“We can.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head.

“I know it’s scary, but we can’t run from this any longer. We’re just going to have to face it head on.”

“I know,” you sigh, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just…”

You trail off, leaving words unspoken in the air like particles of dust in the sunlight.

“What are you so afraid of? Is it that they won’t support us? Honey girl, they aren’t gonna have much of a choice. We are literally soulmates.”

You’re trying to find a way to explain, but none of your thoughts are coherent enough to articulate into something comprehensible.

“I don’t know, Buck. At first, I think it was that. But now? Maybe I just feel guilty that we’ve kept something so huge a secret for so long. I used to tell my parents everything - by choice. That’s how we’ve always been. And suddenly, the biggest event of my life happens, and I… didn’t tell them?”

“You’re letting this guilt eat you alive, baby. Listen, I feel it too. You’re not alone in this. Do you know how many times your parents have asked me about dating in these last eighteen months? How many times we’ve talked about soulmates? And I guess I never lied… but I haven’t exactly told the truth. I’m just as guilty as you think you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you confess, resting your head against his broad shoulder. “I’ve had such tunnel vision with this whole situation. I’ve been selfish. I should have thought about you more.”

“You haven’t had to.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, honey baby. You’ve never had to ‘think about me more’, because you’ve known how I felt this whole time. In here.”

He places a hand over your heart. You close your eyes, letting the warmth from his palm bleed into your chest. The weight of it grounds you back down to Earth, tethered to your soulmate in more ways than one.

“That’s the beauty of it,” he continues. “You don’t have to guess how I’m feeling, or when I’m feeling it - because I’m always telling you. And you’re always listening.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand where it’s still linked with yours.

“The Universe disagrees,” he whispers back, leaning in to kiss the spot underneath your ear. “I disagree.”

It’s all so tender, so gentle, so real, that a lump in your throat forms instantly. You blink rapidly, fighting back tears as you press your side into his. If you could sew yourself into his ribcage and live there forever, resting your head on his beating heart, you would.

“Come on,” he coaxes carefully, pulling you to your feet and watching to see if you’re steady enough. “Let’s do this thing.”

You stare up at him, lost in those ocean blue irises. For a moment, you swear you see the waves moving in them, crashing against the shore in a motion so comforting, it reminds you of home.

“I love you.”

Bucky smiles at you, pupils dilating and heart beating that little bit faster. He’ll never get sick of hearing those words.

“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, honey girl. More than anything.”

Tangling your fingers with his, you inhale deeply before taking the first step forwards, towards the front doors of the hospital.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

When you reach your Dad’s room, you drop Bucky’s hand as if by instinct. When he links your fingers once more, you panic momentarily, before realising it’s futile.

They already know. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.

You walk through the door hand in hand, pressed into each others sides as if it’ll keep you standing upright. Maybe it will.

Your Mom instantly bolts out of her chair, coming over to assess you. She looks you up and down, cradling your face in her hands as she checks you over.

“You were gone a long time, sweetheart. You okay? Have you been crying?”

Bucky lets go of you to give you some space, but doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his warmth from behind you as you watch your Mom’s eyebrows furrow with worry.

“I had… I think it was, um… like a - a panic attack, or something. I don’t know. I just got overwhelmed.”

Your voice sounds so small again, so fragile. You mentally chastise yourself for not being stronger for her.

“Oh, honey.”

She pulls you into her chest, stroking your hair just like she did when you were a child and had a nightmare. You’d run across the hall and into your parents room - your Mom would always bolt upright when she heard little feet on the wooden floors, waiting for you with open arms.

“Your Dad is gonna be fine. I promise you, the Doctors have said he’ll make a full recovery.”

“It’s true.”

The voice is croaky and rusted from misuse, but it unmistakably belongs to the man lying in the hospital bed.

You make your way over and sit down carefully, cautious and calculated. Your Dad takes your hand, stroking his thumb across your skin.

“I’m gonna be just fine, kid. I know I scared you, and I’m really sorry. But I’m okay. Promise.”

You smile at him, genuinely this time, before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You guys should go home.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Go home, get some rest. The two of you look almost as exhausted as Lori does.”

Your Mom laughs, shaking her head. You chuckle, watching them. There’s no one funnier than your soulmate.

“I think we should stay a little longer, Jack.”

Bucky’s voice has all three of your heads whipping around to face him.

“Buck, please be on my side here. You’re tired. Go home, sleep it off. All I’m gonna do for the next twenty four hours is sleep anyway. There’s no point in you sitting here watching me like a bunch of creeps.”

You chew your bottom lip, watching your Dad’s face carefully.

“Mom, Dad - we need to talk about-”

“I know, babygirl,” your Dad interrupts. “And we will. But not here, and not now. We’ll do it when I’m home. We can all sit on the couch and drink your Mom’s cherry lemonade and talk about how you and Bucky have been soulmates this entire time.”

“Not this entire time,” you grumble at his attempt at a joke.

“Seriously, you two. I won’t ask again. Go. Home.”

You look at your Dad for a moment, before averting your gaze to your Mom. They’re both wearing the exact same facial expression - the one they used to give you when you’d refuse your bedtime as a six year old on a school night.

“Come on, honey. You heard them. We’re practically dead on our feet.”

You rise from the bed reluctantly, pressing another kiss to your Dad’s cheek before doing the same to your Mom.

“Call me if anything changes, or if you need anything. I mean anything, you guys.”

They both nod as your Dad does a mock salute, laughing at himself.

Bucky extends his hand out for you. This time, you don’t hesitate to take it. You hold it tightly all the way back to his truck, and then all the way back home.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You and Bucky get ready for bed in silence, both of you flitting around your apartment as quickly as possible. You can’t wait to finally get under your duvet and lose the stress of the last twenty four hours.

The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re wide awake.

The exhaustion has seeped into your bones, making you weary but restless. You can’t settle, physically or mentally.

Bucky, on the other hand, is out like a light.

He looks so peaceful like this. The moonlight soaks through a gap in the curtains, illuminating his face like some sort of angel. His hair is a little longer than usual, stubble growing out across his sharp jawline. He looks rugged, a little rough around the edges. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

As if he can feel your gaze on him, he cracks an eye open, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room. He has a pillow crease across his skin, cheek flushed pink with a dusty blush.

“You okay, baby?”

His voice is hoarse and all sleep heavy, rumbling through you like gentle summer thunder.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, trying to fight back tears. “I’m so tired, Buck. So fucking tired.”

“But you can’t sleep?”

He pulls you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and stroking your hair soothingly.

“It’s like my body is exhausted, but my brain is wide awake,” you mumble into his bare skin. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing makes sense,” he chuckles lowly. “Nothing in this goddamn world makes sense. Except for me and you.”

Bucky spins you in his arms so your back is to his chest, bodies pressed together without an inch of space between you. Pressing a kiss into your neck, he starts mumbling.

“You just need to turn your brain off, baby. I know it’s easier said than done… so I’m gonna help you. All you need to do is focus on my voice, on my touch. Focus your attention on my hands on you, my lips on your skin. The heat of my body against yours.”

He skims his fingers down your side, gripping at your hips to ground you. He’s still kissing your neck, nipping occasionally to vary the sensation. He slips a hand down your front, cupping you over your underwear as you close your eyes, breathing him in. He smells like salt water and sea air and gasoline and home.

You cant your hips into his touch, trying to get him where you want him. Bucky takes the hint, slipping his hand into your panties and running a finger through your wetness. You groan, throwing your head back into his solid shoulder.

“Just switch off, honey baby. Give in to me.”

Bucky glides a finger into you, crooking it towards him. His palm hits your clit and you keen, whining all high pitched and breathy. His hips buck into your backside at the sound, and he chuckles.

“Fuck, you sound so sweet. Sweetest girl in the world.”

He adds another finger, using his thumb to circle your clit in precise, firm motions. You’re writhing against the mattress like a serpent, unable to stay still as Bucky takes you apart.

“Come for me, baby. Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. That’s it, atta girl… ride my hand, take what you need. Wanna hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Your entire body tightens up as you reach your climax, back arching away from Bucky as he continues to curl his fingers. He pulls you close, anchors you to him as you moan and shudder.

Your head is empty, besides the thought of your soulmate. All you can think about is Bucky.

Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.

You take a stuttered inhale as you try to catch your breath, beads of sweat dripping down your back.

“You okay?”

He’s muttering into your shoulder, mouth never leaving your skin. You nod, linking your fingers with his where they rest on your waist.

“You didn’t come,” you whisper, leaning your head back into Bucky.

He kisses your cheek, chuckling lowly.

“This wasn’t about me,” he reassures. “It’s all about you, baby. Always is.”

The two of you breathe together for a little while, allowing you to come down from your high. Eventually, Bucky taps your thigh, nudging you up.

“Come on, honey. Get up and use the bathroom, and then we’ll sleep for the next week.”

You do as he says, crawling back into bed with limbs that feel like jelly.

“How you feelin’?” he asks as he pulls you into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“Fucking fantastic.”

He laughs and you can’t help but laugh too, as if by reflex.

“Yeah? No more racing thoughts in that pretty head of yours?”

“None. All I can think about is how much I want to sleep right now.”

Pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, Bucky tightens his arms around you.

“Then sleep, baby.”

You snuggle into your soulmates side, relaxing into the mattress.

“I love you,” you mumble into his skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs back. “Sweet dreams, honey girl.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

When you wake, you can’t tell if you’ve slept for five minutes or five days.

The sheets are crumpled, linen strewn across the bed as the pillows sit completely unmoved at the headboard. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, warming your skin that’s exposed to the sea soaked breeze.

You reach over to the other side of the mattress, seeking Bucky’s warmth. You’re met with empty space, and the sound of a throat clearing on the other side of the room.

The man in question is leaning against the doorframe, shirtless and sun kissed. His boxers are hugging his thighs just right, and you repress the urge to crawl over and sink your teeth into the muscle. Later.

“Morning or afternoon?” You croak out, watching as he softly smiles at your sleep addled voice.

“Morning. Eleven twenty four.”

You stretch your arms above your head, unaware of the way Bucky’s eyes are glued to your bare stomach.

“You want breakfast, or have you eaten?”

“Haven’t eaten yet. Was waiting for you.”

You slide down to the end of the bed where Bucky meets you, leaning down to press a minty kiss to your lips.

“Have you been awake long?”

He shakes his head, stealing another kiss.

“Ten minutes or so.”

“How’d you sleep?”

He moves some hair away from your face gently, the morning affection making you light up inside.

“Like a baby. Don’t think I moved once.”

You laugh, running your fingers over his bare shoulders.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.”

“Me neither. I think we need to start prioritising sleep a little more.”

“It’s just… so hard,” you murmur, rising onto your knees on the bed so you’re face to face. “I don’t ever want to sleep when I have the most handsome man alive in my bed. I can think of many other things I’d rather be doing.”

He groans, chuckling lowly.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll keep you in this bed all day. Won’t let you leave.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Barnes?”

He football tackles you suddenly, both of you falling backwards into the plush sheets. You squeal, caught off guard as his hands squeeze your sides firmly.

“Keep running your mouth and see what happens, angel.”

You card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction. When his eyes flutter closed, you breathe out a laugh.

“I’m so scared,” you tease, peppering his face with gentle kisses. “Like, quaking in my boots.”

He goes to retort, but is interrupted by the deafening sound of your stomach rumbling.

“If we weren’t about to get noise complaints from the neighbours about that hunger of yours, I would absolutely continue this. But…”

“We need to eat.”

“Yes, we do.”

You peck his cheek before jumping off the bed, stretching as you make your way to the kitchen. Bucky follows you eagerly. Of course he does.

You click the coffee maker on as you spin to face him where he’s leaning against the counter.

“I’m about to make you the best pancakes you’ll eat in your entire life, James.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Watch and learn, baby.”

When he doesn’t move, you walk him backwards, pulling out the bar stool from underneath the island.

“You just sit there and look pretty.”

He shakes his head with a smirk as you wink, turning on the stove and grabbing your bowls and utensils. He didn’t ask for a cooking lesson, but you’re about to give him one.

“The trick is to separate the egg whites from the yolks, and whip them. When they’re fluffy, you fold them into your mixture, and it makes the pancakes light and airy and gorgeous. Then you add honey, for extra sweetness.”

He watches you flit around the kitchen as if you’re the sun, bright and warm and radiant. He can’t take his eyes off you for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

Bucky’s blinking back tears, suddenly, as you sway your hips while flipping the pancakes at the stove. He wants to drop to his knees, yell out to a higher power and ask what the hell he did to deserve someone like you. He’ll beg, if he has to, for someone, something, to make sure that he finds you in every universe, in every version of this crazy life.

“I love you,” you beam at him, as if you’ve read his mind. “I love you more than anything.”

Your grin is so blinding, so utterly brilliant that the entire room lights up with it. Your own form of electricity.

“I… I-”

“I know, Buck.”

It gets like this, sometimes. Too overwhelming to put into words. To love someone more than anything, anyone - a love that knows no bounds - is completely indescribable.

So he doesn’t even try. He just nods at you, watching as your eyes light up at the sight of him.

“Will you pour us some coffee while I put these on a plate?”

“Anything you need,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair as he squeezes past you to grab the mugs. “Always.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You settle down to eat on the balcony, letting the midday sun warm you both up.

“I brought syrup, but, I also brought this.”

You hold out a plastic tub that contains a dark pink mixture, popping the lid off.

“Try it.”

Bucky sticks his little finger in, putting it in his mouth and sighing in contentment at the taste that coats his tongue.

“Good?”

“So good. What is it?”

“My homemade raspberry and lemon coulis. I make it to go on top of pancakes and waffles - it beats maple syrup any day.”

“You’re a genius.”

“So it’s been said,” you laugh, pouring it over your plate. “Now eat before they go cold.”

“Yes ma’am.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You weren’t lying,” he says when he’s finished. “They were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”

You laugh, sliding across to press your side into his.

“There’s a lot more where that came from. I have so many recipes I want you to try.”

“God, I’m so lucky. I have the most perfect soulmate in the world, and she’s a baker. What did I do to deserve you, hmm?”

You lean in to kiss him gently, licking across his lips. He tastes like raspberries and sugar and eight hours of sleep.

You’re sat in comfortable silence when your phone rings, startling you both.

“Hello?”

“Babe?”

“Lacie?”

“Hey!”

“Hi!”

You smile instantly, and Bucky does too, by default.

“Your Mom called me and told me about your Dad. She’s been keeping me updated over text. How are you guys holding up?”

“We’re good, honestly. It was a little touch and go at first, but now… we’re okay. All of us.”

“Good. I love you guys.”

“Love you too. So much.”

She sighs all deep and wistful, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What’s up, Lace?”

“Well… I’m calling with a proposition. And I feel like you’re gonna say no, but your Mom already told me that I had to force you to do it, so.”

“Oh, God.”

“Come on a double date with me and Cameron tonight. Come for dinner and drinks with us.”

You take a deep breath, looking over at Bucky. He nods in agreement, encouraging you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Her surprise is undeniable, the octave of her voice rising ever higher.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you in too long, and it’ll be good for me to meet Cameron, finally. Plus, we’re visiting my Dad this afternoon, so we have a free evening.”

“Oh my God, I am so excited! Okay, I’ll text you the address of where we’re eating. Cam knows so much about you already, he can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait to meet Bucky… again? I mean I’ve met him before, but not as your soulmate.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “It’ll be good for everyone to get… reacquainted.”

“Exactly!”

“Alright, Lace. We’ve gotta get ready to visit my Dad, but I’ll see you later?”

“See you later, babe. I am so excited. See you then!”

She puts the phone down, and you can almost picture the cloud of perfume and pressed powder that’s about to rain down on her bedroom. You wish you were there to watch it happen, like old times.

“Our first double date, huh?”

“It’ll be our last if you don’t behave,” you tease, leaning in to peck Bucky’s lips.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You laugh into his mouth, running your fingers through the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. It’s the longest you’ve seen it, and it’s starting to curl all cute and soft and wispy.

“Come on. Let’s go see my Dad, and then spend hours mentally preparing ourselves for Storm Lacie.”

“I always liked her. Seemed good for you.”

“She is. She’s the best.”

Bucky wraps a strong arm around your shoulder as you swing your legs over his lap, burying yourself in his bare chest.

“You nervous?” he asks into your temple.

“A little, weirdly. Meeting each others soulmate is the kind of thing we’d talk about when we were kids. And now we’re doing it.”

“We can handle it,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing patterns into your arm. “We can handle anything, you and I.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, honey girl. Anything.”

tag list part one

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clarkeyhill · 2 months ago

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☁️sweet dreams | George Clarke

Fluff

Summary: you were invited for a movie night at the boys flat, you start a horror film saga, but your tiredness overrides your body as George looks after you

You arrive at the flat for around 8pm, you fetched some snacks of your choosing and a few beverages, you'd not seen the boys in a while so Chris asked if you wanted to come round and have a little movie night in with him, Arthur hill and George; obvious you jumped at the idea as you loved spending time with them.

You knock on the flat door, it opens to reveal a smiley Chris "it's so good to see you!" He says embracing you in a hug "I know it's been so long" you say with a soft smile "where are my boys?" You shout shuffling in the door "troubles here!" George shouts as he emerges from the sofa "glad you could come round" he says engulfing you in a hug "movie night wouldn't be the same without me" you send him a cheeky wink as Arthur saunters out his bedroom "ahh y/ns here!" His face lights up as scooches over to you giving you a hug "I sure am feeling all the love guys thanks" you chuckle.

As much as Chris wanted to watch lord of the rings for the thousandth time, you suggest a horror although you enjoy them, the jump scares still manage to get you. You were sat next to George in the sofa as Arthur and Chris perch on the other side, you pick at the popcorn as you flick through the films on Netflix, you opt for the conjuring series as you cross your legs on the sofa "you know I hate horrors" Arthur says as you stick your tongue out playfully "lord of the rings or this" you say with your brows raised "this 100%" George chimes in as Chris rolls his eyes.

The movie gets a quarter way in and the tension builds, you knew there was a jump-scare coming and you braced yourself with a blanket, George snickering as you did this, low and behold the jump-scare came and your spirit shot out of you body, you jumped as your hand smacked out gripping George's leg accidentally, you try not to bring attention to it so you slip your hand away as you mouth "sorry" to George as he shakes his head and smiles. The first conjuring finishes and you begin the other one, your eyes starting to become slightly tired though; you get up to go the bathroom, you wash your hands as your phone pings.

"There wasn't a need to apologise earlier btw" George had text you, you smile at his message. Glad that he didn't find it weird or anything. You walk back out to join them "had to take a minute to recollect yourself after that one" Chris says laughing "definitely not loser" you say nudging him as you sit down, tucking yourself back into the blanket as George sends a warm smile to you. You sit back as your eyes become your worst enemy, fluttering to keep them awake you were tired and you weren't gonna last much longer.

Instead of ruining the night you decide to just nod off peacefully, your eyes close as your head falls heavy, landing on George's shoulder, he lets out a small giggle "she's gone guys" he says looking at them both pointing down at you as you let out soft snores, he pulls the blanket over you as they wait for the film to finish "are you gonna wake her to get her home?" Chris asks looking at George "no mate, I'll just try and scoop her into my bedroom, I'll take the sofa, it's getting late" he say looking down at you with a soft smile, your peaceful face made George's heart burst. The boys nod as they leave George to get you to bed, he slips from underneath you gently as you stir a little, not waking up though as George stands still.

He places his arm under your neck and the other under your legs as he carries you to his room, luckily you had lounge attire on so you weren't sleeping in jeans, he pulls the covers over as he slots you inside, covering you with the duvet as he turns to leave your eyes flutter open "stay" you say with a soft voice "what?" He replies, seeing if you were sleep talking "stay with me George" you say back as you smile softly, he nods as he slips into bed beside you, you slept back to back as he turned the bedroom lamp off "night y/n" he says softly "night Georgie" you say back as you drift back off to sleep.

🫶🏻

#george clarkey #youtube #george clarke #british youtubers #arthur hill

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cornsoupflavour · 8 months ago

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Biggest Donator (Pokimane NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWITCH Pokimane x Fan!Male Reader

Tags: 2.6k words, sneaky sex, hidden sex, car sex, streamer x fan, bratty, creampie, on-stream teasing, romance

As you strolled through the crowded TwitchCon, trying to locate Pokimane's booth, the sea of people parted momentarily. You droned along and bumped right into someone, sending you to the ground. You looked up and realised you were face–to–face with the Queen of Twitch herself, Pokimane. "O–Oh, I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks flush.

Pokimane's bright smile and twinkling eyes met yours. As she helped you up, you took in the sight of her in a tight–fitting dress that accentuated her voluptuous figure, highlighting her facial features and her long, wavy brown hair. "Oh my god, are you okay? I'm so sorry," she apologised, as she checked you for injuries. Your eyes sparkled as you mumbled out a stuttering mess of a sentence.

"Woah, woah, slow down there, cowboy~" Pokimane teased as she patted your shoulders. You took a deep breath and locked gazes with her. "Okay... Oh my god... I'm like– your biggest fan–" you managed.

"Oh! Why thank you, I had no idea I had such cute looking fans~" she continued to tease. Your cheeks flushed a deep red as you stuttered, your mouth agape. "C–Can I get a picture with you?"

She nodded, as she hugged you really close, squeezing your arm in between her tits as she took one with your phone and one with hers. "Well, I'll see you at my booth, cutie~" she gave you a smile and a wink before starting to walk off.

"Pokimane, wait– I'm actually Y/N–"

"Y/N? That sounds familiar... OH! You're a regular in my chat! The donations you give me are honestly incredible, I'm not running your bank account into the ground am I?" she teased with a little sense of concern in her eyes. "Actually... why don't you come with me?" she asked, stretching out her hand for you to hold. As you grabbed her hand, she gave you a gentle squeeze before stepping back into the crowd with you.

You trailed behind her, her soft fragrance wafting into your nose as you walked. Your gaze subconsciously glued to her swaying ass. Your heart swelled with pride as you held hands with your idol.

As Pokimane led the way, the swish of her hips captivated you as she moved through the sea of people. "So, have you been enjoying TwitchCon? I've managed to meet some fans, but none as cute as you so far~ I've also been trying to stream a bit too, but it's been hard to get a good signal in here."

She gestured to her booth as it finally came into view, a space filled with Pokimane merch, fans, and even a small livestream setup. "So here's my little corner. What do you think?" She looked at you with a mischievous glint in her eye, waiting for your reaction.

"Wow, for a small setup, this looks really good. I was expecting to see more of your fans here– but hey, fewer of them, means I could have longer conversations with you right?"

She nodded, playfully smiling as she brought you to her setup. "Oh look, I've got a connection. Wanna stream with me a little?"

You thought about it, but before you could give her an answer, she brought you down onto her chair, sitting herself onto your lap once you're settled in. You felt your pants tighten as your cheeks burned.

As her stream turned on, she wriggled and squirmed on your lap, her eyes gleamed with mischief as she began to tease you in front of her audience. She turned to straddle you and leaned forward, her cleavage seemingly begging for your eyes to take it all in as she strategically placed her hands on your chest. "Hey guys~ This is Y/N. I met him while walking around TwitchCon, isn't he cute? Well, we're about to kick things off with a game," she announced, her voice dripping with a sudden seduction as she winked at you.

You gulped, your heart pounding, as she turned around and began to casually play a game while sitting on your lap. Her hips swayed back and forth, rubbing against you in rhythm with her movements. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as she talked to her fans, turning to give you teasing and flirting looks after each one.

As the game progressed, Pokimane began to slowly lift her leg, revealing a good portion of her thigh underneath her dress. She continued to tease and play, her leg shifting back and forth, giving you glimpses of her shapely calves. At some point, you raised your hands and rested them on her hips, slowly guiding her around as she continued to squirm.

Eventually, she stopped the game, and with a seductive grin, she said, "Well, Y/N, you've been such a good boy, with such strong hands..." She leaned back, her body arching as she caressed your face with her palm, "...so let's see if you can handle this~" she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Why don't you show all those at home how much of a fan you are?"

Your hands trembled as you gripped her hips tighter. Her breathing grew heavier as you slowly moved her back and forth, her own breaths matching the slow, steady pace of your hands. Just then, she stopped you, "Wait, Y/N– let's go somewhere else~"

She stood up, her tight pink dress shimmering in the light of the convention as she led you out through the back and into the van she arrived in. She playfully patted your hand before pulling you in for another kiss, her tongue teasing your lips. "I know there aren't as many people there at the booth, but I don't want anyone interrupting us... You do seem like the best fan I could have ever asked for..."

Her words sent a jolt of arousal and embarrasment through you. She straddled you once more as she placed the camera she brought from her live setup on the couch opposite you two. She placed her phone, with the stream on next to it.

"Alright guys~ Let Y/N show you how a true fan should be~" as she turned to you to connect your lips once more in an even deeper kiss, she remembered. "Oh wait– I can't show this on Twitch, or I'll get banned... Looks like I'll just have to record it and post it after~ Sorry everyone, I need some time with my Y/N~"

Her voice was flirtatious and a little bratty, as she turned the stream off but kept the camera running. As the screen went black, Pokimane broke the kiss, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Alright, Y/N, time for a little gift from me to you, for being such a big fan~"

She began to grind her hips against yours. The sensation was sending waves of pleasure through your body, and you let out a soft moan, "Aahh, Pokimane, I–I can't..."

She smirked, her eyes full of carnal desire. "Oh, I think you can, Y/N. You've been doing so good so far." She leaned in close to whisper into your ear, "Plus, I'm sure you deserve a reward for being my biggest donator~ And if what I'm feeling is right... BIGGEST has two meanings here~"

Pokimane pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your chest as she trailed kisses from your lips, down to your jawline and then to your neck. "Mmmm, Y/N... you taste so good..." Her voice quivered as her hands danced down to the waistband of your pants, slowly lowering them.

As she revealed your erection, she climbed off and knelt in front of you. She gave a playful lick, making you shudder. "Wow... You truly are a BIG fan..." she teased as she gave the shaft a long lick. "Now just relax and let me reward you~" she gripped your length, giving it a firm stroke, and you let out a moan, "Gnnnngh... Pokimane... oh, fuck... don't stop..."

Her hand movement became more vigorous as she worked faster, her face a mixture of desire and satisfaction. "That's it, such a good fan deserves a good reward~ My my, you're loving this, aren't you, Y/N? I bet I'm the best you've ever had, huh?" Her bratty confidence added fuel to the fire as a smirk tugged at her lips.

You nodded, unable to speak coherently, as she leaned back, her dress now bunched up around her waist. "You're not the only one who needs a little attention, y'know?" With one hand still on your cock, she slowly slid her other hand down her thigh, fingertips circling her soaked entrance.

Her hips began to sway, the grinding motions now more frantic, as her fingers danced between her legs. The combination of her touch and how hard you were sent shivers down both your spines. She bit her lip, her eyes closed, as she moaned, "Mmm, Y/N, I can't wait to see what else you have in store for me... if you show me a good enough time, I might actually make you my boyfriend~"

The thought of it sent your arousal through the roof. Your hands gripped the side of the van seat as she continued her movements, both of you lost in the moment, each moan and sigh filling the confined space. "You're doing soooo good~ Keep going, keep moaning for me, Y/N~" she purred, encouraging you as you removed the second one.

As you felt your release coming, Pokimane clenched her grip on you, stopping you just short of climax. "No, Y/N, not yet. I want more of you." She freed her fingers from her pussy, her moans becoming more ragged. She leaned forward and nestled your cock right in between her tits, her bra squeezing them together and tightening their grip on your shaft.

"Let's see how you respond to these fat tits~" she whispered, her breath hot against your tip as she engulfed you cock and began to bob her head, her tits moving in a slow rhythm, squeezing and releasing your cock.

Her saliva dripped onto your length, making it glisten as her lips brushed against your tip. "Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good...", she moaned, her eyes closed.

As she continued, she used her biceps to squeeze her tits together even harder as she placed the fingers of both her hands into her pussy, diving deep into her wetness. Her moans grew louder, her hips gyrated, and her hand danced. "Fuck, Y/N... you taste so good... so fucking good...", she panted, her eyes rolling back as she neared her climax.

Pokimane's saliva coated your cock, and her tits moved in a perfect sync with her fingers. Her breasts quivered, her nipples hard against her bra as she continued to tit–fuck you.

She let out a loud moan, "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... I'm gonna cum...", her body tensed, and her orgasm washed over her. As she came down from it, she leaned forward, moving her body in a rapid cycle, her tits squeezing agaisnt your shaft and rubbing it.

"You gonna cum for me? Show me how much you love me, Y/N~" her movements became more erratic and hungry as her gaze locked with yours. She started bobbing her head on your shaft once more and before long, she felt your body tense as you exploded in her mouth, sending a wave of your hot cum flowing down her throat.

After a while, she pulled her mouth away from your cock before gulping the semen down. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out to show you her empty mouth, dripping with saliva. "Such yummy cum~"

Pokimane stood up, her dress scrunching up a little more around her waist as she straddled your lap once more, her bra–clad breasts swaying as she leaned forward over you. She eased herself up, her chest heaving, and removed her bra, revealing her plump, erect nipples. "Now, Y/N, I want you to prove to me that you're the best fan I've ever had... I want you to make me cum now~"

With that, she lowered herself onto your rock–hard cock, her tight entrance enveloping you. She bit her lip, her nails digging into your chest as she began to ride you slowly.

Her eyes met yours, her bratty grin returning. "And if you can make me cum as hard as I just did, I promise, I'll consider you my boyfriend~" her hips began to move faster, her body bouncing as she built up to another climax.

As Pokimane rode you, her facial expressions were a mix of pleasure and surprise. Her lips parted as she let out a loud moan, "Aahh, Y/N, I'm...", her eyes glazed over, as her body trembled. You gripped her hips, your cock buried deep inside her, your lips met hers for a passionate kiss, as you both continued to moan into each other.

Her moans became louder, "Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good...", she panted, her body arching back as she rode you, her hands gripping your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin. "This is... oh, I never expected... Y/N, you're... so big... I'm... I'm...", her voice trailed off as her body began to convulse, her eyes rolling back as she was pushed over the edge.

Her climax hit her hard, her pussy clenching and tightening around your cock, milking you as she screamed your name, "Y/N! FUCK!", her body bucking as she came down from her high. She hugged you tightly, her chest heaving as she began to ride you once more.

"Nngh, fuck... Pokimane– you came so quick–"

"Yeah, because... You... you're incredible, Y/N... I can't believe I'm gonna remember you as my biggest donator... no... my boyfriend..." she whispered between moans. Her hand moved down to your chest, and she began to play with your nipples. "Fuck, let's go again, Y/N, cum with me~"

Pokimane's movements became more frantic, her nails digging into your shoulders, her mouth meeting yours in a feverish and passionate kiss. As you felt your climax growing, her eyes met yours, and she began to suck on your bottom lip as she rode you faster.

You could feel the heat rising in your loins, and just as her eyes rolled back, and she let out a loud moan, "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck...", you gripped her hips and her ass tight as you let go of your hot seed, filling her with your release.

Pokimane's body shuddered as she screamed, riding out yet another one of her orgasms. She collapsed onto your chest, her breathing heavy, her hair messy, and her body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Now see, that's how you make a girl cum~" she exhaled as she brought her lips up to yours once more. "Y/N... my... my boyfriend...", she whispered, her eyes closing, as she started to come down from her high, cuddled into your chest.

You held her close, your heart swelling with pride as you watched her sleep, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. Your chest rose and dipped as you attempted to process the day you'd just had. The atmosphere went from overwhelming to cheeky and now complete satisfaction. Your mind couldn't wrap around the fact that not only did The Pokimane just have passionate sex with you, but also just made you her boyfriend. Pokimane leaned up to look at you with a flirtatious wink, she asked, "So, are you going to follow me to one of my panels or maybe hang around my booth for the rest of the day~?"

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

#female streamer #x male!reader #male reader #smut #x male reader #pokimane #pokimane smut #streamer x male reader #streamer smut #otv smut

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vrystalius · 4 months ago

Note

I have been way too shy to ask you for a request and now that i am here writing it, it feels weird but, i love your writing way too much ��️❤️❤️ can we get the Hashira and upper moons if it's not too much 😅. A scenario where they always been in love and had this huge crush on reader but they always say "I will confess when the moment is perfect" but then the reader falls in love with a boy from the village ,but then he breaks her heart by leaving her and now she is crying and sulking in her favourite spot when they find her and now they take the opportunity to confess telling her she needs someone who actually loves her and takes care of her.

(Sorry if it's too much it's my first ask and I don't know how else to put it please pardon my bad english) ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Heartbroken

You’re crying from being heartbroken. What will the hashira do?

Note: I kind of completed this request differently and noticed it too late, I’m so sorry! And I apologise that it took so long. Thank you for sending in a request, I am extremely honoured that you entrusted me with this ask. I’ll try to write one for the Upper Moons as well. Your english is perfectly fine! Again, thank you!

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He’s been denying his feelings for you for a while now. You’re too pretty, too smart, too strong and way too good for Sanemi to even have a single chance at dating you. He has been holding his feelings inside while watching you talking interacting with that damn kakushi everytime you saw them. Sanemi saw how much your eyes brightened up and your smile widened when with them.

He hated it so much. He fucking hated himself for feeling all these things and how much they’re making his heart hurt. It was distracting him from doing his missions properly. Sanemi started to get careless, getting slashed more often and taking more hits during practice. The others started to notice how absentminded he seemed and grew worried for the wind hashira.

Sanemi felt selfish when he helped you lean against his shoulder, holding you close to himself. Your tears were dropping onto his shoulder, beginning to soak his uniform. That damn kakushi rejected you and broke your golden heart, and now you’re here, crying against him. His hand was gently rubbing up and down your arm, trying to soothe you.

His mind was clouded with guilt, now thinking that he might have a chance with you. Was that shitty of him to think of that right now while you wrapped your arms around Sanemi and cried into his shoulder?

“I’ll kill that damn boy for ya. You don’t deserve gettin’ your heart broken…”

Kyojuro Rengoku

You two have been friends for such a long time and Kyojuro fell for you quickly after meeting you. He rants about you to his little brother, boasting about your incredible kindness and intelligence and how truly powerful you are. An incredible hashira who managed to defeat so many demons on your own! Senjuro would always listen quietly while sweeping the porch or preparing a meal for him as his brother. He noticed how brightly Kyojuro begins to glow and how his eyes shine. He truly loves you, he can tell. His brother might not even be aware of how much he actually fell for you.

Kyojuro was more heartbroken to see you this upset than being happy for himself that he has a chance now. He tried everything in his power to cheer you up and comfort you by giving you encouraging words, comforting touches and a big bear hug.

You two have been talking for hours now, about your feelings and what you want to do now. Kyojuro even offered you his dessert while you talked.

“How about you come home with me and we could eat dinner together with my brother? Company might do you good!”

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei would feel guilty for wanting to have you for himself after hearing that you expressed interest in one of the kakushi. Instead of persuading or trying to convince you to not confess to the kakushi, he’d actively try to bring you two together. If you are happy, Gyomei is. That also included on behalf of his happiness.

He’d encourage you to speak with the kakushi more, to create a bond between you two and create more of a chance that you might have a romantic relationship with him. Whenever you got nervous or unsure, Gyomei was there to encourage and offer advice to you every time.

After your heart was broken, the first person you thought of seeking comfort from was the stone hashira.

His deep voice and gentle hand on your back was incredibly comforting, making you lean against him. Your head was resting against Gyomei’s chest after he wrapped his large arm around you and soothingly stroked your back, offering his comfort.

“It will be okay. Your heart will heal in time. Please know that I will be here for you if you need any support.”

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu didn’t want to get close to you after noticing how much you like that kakushi. He doesn’t want to interfere with your love life and who you choose to be. Instead, he drowns in misery and a wave of depression. Giyu barely spoke to you, and now he’s completely ignoring you. You felt bad for him and wondered if something might have happened that caused him to be so… downcast and depressed. Fearing that you are the reason why Giyu’s acting like this, you decided to stay out of his way as well, just in case.

He accidentally stumbled upon you after your heart was broken. You were crying your heart out while Giyu just awkwardly sat down beside you. His posture was stiff and he wasn’t sure how to comfort you, so he just patter your back silently. He felt a slight glimmer of hope in his chest after finding out why you were so upset, but was extremely bewildered why someone would reject someone as perfect as you.

In Giyu’s eyes, you are the most beautiful, intelligent, powerful, fast and best person in the whole entire world. How could someone be this blind and not see that? Even Gyomei probably knows how beautiful and perfect you truly are, and his eyes are completely clouded. Giyu carefully scooted a little closer to you and made you lean your head onto his shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort.

“You’ll be okay, trust me.”

💠

Again, so so sorry it took so long. My brain was being a little fried and I couldn’t work on any asks and I instead posted my own things. I’m planning to work on more requests!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 months ago

Text

Objects in Motion

Part 4!

Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

No warnings this is wholesome lmaoooooooo

His scent lingers on you when you walk into work on Monday. Despite how hard you'd tried to wash it off, it clings to your skin, seemingly unwilling to let you go.

Secretly, that delights you, emphasizes the strength of whatever there was between the two of you. It’s equal parts giddy, and terrifying.

That an alpha like him- that he could be interested in you, you have to resist a groan of delight as you wait for the elevator to get to your floor.

The doors slide open and you let out a long sigh, making your way slowly to your desk, smiling and forcing yourself to greet your coworkers.

You were already exhausted by the idea of working, wishing you were still in bed, hidden under piles of blankets to shield you from the world. Maybe a certain alpha would be willing to join you.

Or maybe… maybe you were better off never thinking about him again.

Honestly, you'd probably be doing him a favour, your situations couldn't be more opposite, you couldn't imagine him ever seeing where you lived, it might hurt you to see the pity written across his face.

Worse, you'd just be a burden to him, he'd probably feel obligated to take care of you, and if things didn't work out- you shudder- you didn't even want to think about it.

But God, you were so attracted to him that it hurt. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and the ways he would touch you, the ways he might feel, the size of him-

You blink in surprise, feeling a small flush of pheromones around you. Damn, work was the worst place for this.

At the same time, you catch sight of Renée, the only other omega in the department, making her way toward you, her desk situated nearby.

She glances at you, gives you a subtle nod while dropping her stuff, before pausing, and turning to you.

“You smell like an Alpha.” She says, no question in her tone.

Renée was the type of person to speak somewhat kindly to your face, the perfect facade of caring, but you knew people, and you knew that she would find a way to work this interaction into office gossip.

“I made a friend.” You answer inexplicably, trying to keep a poker face, knowing that shyness would do you no favours here.

She raises her eyebrows, turns away, you knew she was thinking one of two things, wondering how you managed to befriend an alpha before her, or that someone you called a ‘friend’ would let you scent them. Basically, that you were a slut and she was better than you.

“Well, I hope you have fun.” She says, smiling over at you sweetly.

“Thanks.” You mutter politely, tugging your headset on, and getting ready to start your day.

Your phone pings in the middle of the morning peak hours, and you pause speaking to glance down at it, seeing yet another message from the alpha himself.

He’d been sending texts all weekend, texts that you had been ignoring, though you weren’t exactly sure why.

You shake your head, apologising for your pause, before resuming your work.

When the call ends, you take a bathroom break, pulling down your notification bar to see what he’s said.

You catch sight of all the other messages before, sighing as guilt fills you.

I hoped you had a nice time, sweetheart, I’d like to see you again.

Omega?

Please don’t feel shy about the car, I wanted it too.

Are you ignoring me?

Good morning, sweetheart. Let’s have dinner.

Are you really going to make me beg?

It was almost hard to breathe, the way he seemed so desperate for you. You could almost feel his desire through the phone, like an ache in your chest, sticking like tar to the back of your throat.

Denying him might be the hardest thing you've ever had to do, but it was for the best, you decide as you lock your phone. You would not be played for a fool ever again.

He calls during your lunch break, you swallow and flip your phone over, muting the call while you eat your small packed lunch.

Why wasn't he getting the message? Would it really be that hard to free yourself of him?

You don't get any more messages or calls after that, and you assume he gives up when you hear nothing else from him for the rest of the day.

Your transit home is bitter, the thought that you'd successfully chased an alpha away hurts, like you knew it would.

He might have been amazing, he might have been warm. You tip your head back on the bus, taking in a deep breath and exhaling agony.

Worse, his scent fades even more the next day, and where you'd been trying to scrub it from you over the weekend, you cling to it now, wishing it would stay just a few days more.

You stop, surprised, when you see a single sunflower sitting on your work desk in the morning.

It's in a little transparent vase, and your heart gives a violent uptick as you approach, reaching for the little card you see pressed under the vase, raising it to your nose, taking a deep breath.

Your eyes roll back in your head at the pure scent of him. He'd probably rubbed the harsh little card against his scent gland, trying to get your attention by any means necessary.

You go so weak in the knees that you're forced to brace a hand against your desk to support you.

You draw back, flipping the card open, finding one word written neatly in his hand.

Please

You bite down in the corner of your lip, smiling. Guess you hadn't chased him away after all.

Was this good? Was this bad? You didn't know, all you could feel is your chest fluttering at the idea that you'd pushed this Alpha away as hard as you could and he was still here, trying to calmly approach, not overwhelming you by physically getting into your space, but letting his actions speak for him, reminding you that he was still here.

Could you hope that his feelings were real? That he really cared about you, where other Alphas had only themselves in mind?

“From your friend?” Renee's voice breaks into your head.

You turn, dropping your hand as if you've been caught.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, turning to busy yourself with work, feeling her eyes glued to the back of your head.

When you finally settle in, staring at the flower, you frown, remembering the way the second alpha you'd been with had used your own desires against you. He'd twisted your need to be cared for, making it seem like your only purpose was to serve him. Adam had left you aching for crumbs and hating yourself for it.

You could almost cry from the memory, that alphas could be so cruel, so manipulative, that it was always a game and you needed to keep your cards close to your chest.

Why, would William be any different?

Why were you wishing with everything you had, that he was?

You bring the card up to your nose, breathing in his scent, hoping.

You’re staring at his unopened messages yet again, trying to figure out what to say to him when the phone on your desk rings.

You straighten, grabbing your headset, tugging it on before answering, giving your quick, jovial greeting.

There’s a long pause, that alerts you to the fact that this call might not be totally normal.

“Omega.” The voice finally says, and your mouth drops open in surprise.

“William?” You ask, almost choking on your words, “You- these calls are recorded for quality purposes.”

“You’ve been ignoring me. This was the only way I could think of to hear your voice.”

Jesus Christ, you could feel your heart palpitating in your chest.

“We shouldn’t be talking on this line.” You respond shakily.

“Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did sweetheart, so I can fix it.”

Ohmygod, you clear your throat, adjusting yourself in your seat with the way his voice is affecting you.

“William-”

“-I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to see you again, even if it’s for you to tell me you want me to leave you alone. I’ll beg if I have to.”

You blink, mouth parting, unable to speak.

“We shouldn’t.” You try.

“Please.” is his low, grovelling response.

Your breath hitches as he continues on repeat, slow, drawing out each word with his voice echoing through your headset, sending shivers over your spine.

“Please, please, please, please, please-”

“Okay.” You stumble out, “Alright.”

You hear him sigh a breath of relief.

“Let’s have dinner tonight. My treat.”

“I don’t-” You start before cutting off, cheeks aflame with embarrassment, “-I have nothing to wear.”

“Don’t fret little one, I’ll pick you up after work. I’ll take care of everything, you just have to withstand my company for one night, and if you really want me to, I’ll leave you alone after.”

“I’m holding you to that, alpha.” You answer, whispering it so that Renée doesn’t overhear you.

He hums over the line, a little laugh after a few moments.

“Thank you, omega, see you later.”

You mumble your goodbye, ending the call on your side.

It warms your core for minutes after, unbelievably turned on by him, unable to deny the way you were feeling, you bring the card up to your nose once more, breathing him in.

He sends you a quick message a few minutes before your work day ends to tell you that he’s waiting in the lobby for you.

You feel a nervous twist in your stomach as you close your files, and pack up your things, glancing over to see that Renee hadn’t come back from her trip to the bathroom just yet, normally bidding her goodbye before you leave.

You wonder if you should bring the sunflower with you, but you figure it would be fine here and you can just take it home tomorrow. On the other hand, seeing it here really did make the day more bearable.

You decide to think about it later, heading for the elevator, your bag in hand.

You catch his scent as the doors slide open, smiling wistfully as bergamot surrounds you, tugging you to him.

You round the corner and stop short in shock.

You'd never thought of Renée as a friend in any means, but you'd never seen her as any type of adversary until this very moment, as you watch her smile up at William, her neck tilted to the side slightly in offering.

It's a very bold move, to openly present your scent gland to a possible stranger, and you glance up at his face, noting his expression.

His eyebrows are pinched, mouth turned down into a frown, confusion maybe, perhaps a hint of distaste.

You didn't know you were good at reading lips until this moment as well, but you know without a doubt that he says the words ‘I'm sorry, I'm not interested.’ despite how far away you are.

Then, he turns, eyes meeting yours as if he knew exactly where you were.

He mutters something you think is ‘excuse me,’ before he begins walking in your direction.

In a well pressed white shirt, tucked into charcoal grey pants, he approaches you with even strides, never breaking eye contact, making you feel the intensity of him as he draws near.

You feel your spine stiffen, head angling upward the closer he gets, until he's standing before you, drinking you in.

“Hello, sweetheart, thank you for giving me another chance to see you.”

You gulp.

“D- don't make me regret it.” You stutter out, trying to stand your ground on your boundaries.

“Never.” He promises, extending his elbow out for you to take. You eagerly oblige, reaching up to grip his bicep securely, maybe a little bit more than necessary.

You keep your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone on your way out.

He's not driving this time, guiding you toward a very big SUV, with blackout windows and a cozy leather interior.

There’s so much room, enough for him to extend his legs when he slides in beside you, closing the door and tapping twice on the partition separating the two of you from the driver.

“Wow,” you murmur, looking around, even noticing a small fridge in the space across from you, “This- is this yours?”

He hums.

“Technically, they belong to the company, but I get to use it when I need to.”

You blink, realising that he was trying to be humble about it.

Smiling, you turn to look at him, eyes widening when you realise how close he’d gotten to you when you were distracted.

“You smell like me, omega.” He whispers into the space between you, his dark eyes searching yours, leaning in, he presses his nose to your hair.

You hear the soft inhale, your body stiffening, trying to resist your own instinct to present your scent gland to him. His own scent fills the space around you, and his shaky exhale brushes your ear as he leans away.

“I won’t lie and say I’m not pleased by it. You have power over me, sweetheart, I hope you know that.”

Your breaths sharpen, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down harshly trying to recenter your thoughts.

How could he say something like that so easily? As if it were in his nature to be so… devoted.

His gaze dips to your mouth, lingering there for a long moment before he smiles softly.

“How was work today?” He inquires, leaning back further, taking a few deep breaths, in what you can only assume is an attempt to calm himself.

It was great, you want to say, but the words won't come out with the way he's looking at you, as if you're his next meal, or his deity.

You can't decide.

“Omega?”

“Good.” You blurt, losing control of your thinking, did you even really have a good day? You don't have the brain power to remember.

You turn your head away, blinking, trying to… think. It was hard to focus on anything other than him, the way he was filling your head with primal static, the urge to obey, to succumb washing over you.

“I’m sorry,” You finally say, dropping your head into your hands, “being around you isn’t easy. It’s hard to control myself.”

You feel pressure in your throat, tears springing to your eyes, a dam on the brink of bursting.

His hand presses securely between your shoulder blades.

“Breathe,” He says calmly, you turn your head to find warm, encouraging eyes.

Oh, you think to yourself as you follow his instruction, breathing in softly, feeling those primal desires soften under the guidance of the very man causing them.

“There you go,” His voice makes your stomach flutter, “There’s nothing to be sorry about, little one.”

There he goes again, making you want him.

What would it cost, to reach up and kiss him? To press your fingers into his jaw while your mouths meet, to feel him like that, to exist with him in that way?

You let out a soft sigh, relaxing, living in that thought for a few moments.

When he’s sure you’re calm enough, he smiles.

“Now, let’s start over- was your day actually good?”

You feel amusement rise inside of you.

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “No one yelled at me, so I call it a win.”

He blinks, his expression turning sorrowful.

“People often yell at you?”

You nod.

“Customer service… is an excuse for small people to make someone else feel small.”

Something changes in his eyes, sorrow moulting into something else- his jaw tightening.

“I don't like the sound of that.” He admits.

You offer him a wry smile.

“That's just how things are, I guess. This is what I have to work with.” You stop yourself from complaining more, worried that it might upset him to hear the way people treated you, to hear them make derogatory comments, to question your intellect as if you'd personally inconvenienced them.

His hand moves from your shoulder, tracing its way up to the back of your neck, and then to the side, his thumb in perfect reach of your scent gland and your brain goes hazy at the thought.

Instead of your gland, his thumb reaches up to stroke the edge of your jaw calmly.

“What happens if someone is too aggressive? What's the protocol? Do you transfer them to a manager?”

You gulp, remembering one time that happened, you'd gotten reprimanded after.

“Yeah that's the protocol, but I think it's best if I solve the problem myself, and get approvals on my own. It's not usually good to waste my supervisor's time.”

His thumb gently stroking your cheek lulls you, fits you into a space where you feel safe to talk about these things.

“Does anyone at your job yell at you?”

“Not… yell,” you hesitate for a moment, enjoying his caress, “they're just… warnings. I'm- I try to do my best to avoid that.” You huff out a breath, “I guess I got yelled at once, when I first started, but not after that.”

You gulp, glancing at him, the soft fire in his eyes as he studies you, his thumb dipping, circling the spot right above your gland.

Your lips part, your mind begging you to reach out to him.

The car slows to a stop.

You take a deep breath, eyes widening when you scent the mixture of pheromones in the air, you might as well be begging him on your knees with how potent it was. It sort of surprised you that he was able to resist it.

You want to say something to him, anything to fill the silence that swarms in as your eyes meet his, but your brain is blissfully blank, not a single cohesive thought other than how badly you wanted him.

He gives you a patient smile.

“We’re here.” He says.

“Where?” You ask softly.

“Hotel,” He answers softly, “I rented a room so you can get dressed and meet me in the restaurant for dinner.”

Renting a room? On a second date?

“Oh…” You mumble, trying to figure out if you needed to clarify your boundaries for him again.

You don’t get the chance, the door opens and you have to busy yourself with stepping out instead of addressing your concerns.

He extends his hand for you to take, and you do so eagerly, aching even more when you feel his large hand interlocked with yours.

It’s almost like you’re his omega, walking beside him as he confidently guides you into the hotel, nodding at reception and heading straight to the elevators.

The doors close and you can feel your body throbbing. Was he expecting more from you than you were ready for?

“William?”

“Yes, Omega?”

You blink, looking up at him, unable to voice the words, the topic of conversation is too sensitive, the words can barely leave your mouth. Your mind races to find something else to ask.

“Do you- um- live around here?”

He tilts his head for a moment, maybe sensing your hesitation.

“Not really, I live close to where I work, home to office you know?”

You nod, smiling, before facing forward once more, a slither of discomfort in your spine.

You can feel his eyes on you, no doubt trying to read you while you debate whether this was a good idea or not.

When the doors slide open, he begins speaking again.

“I hired a stylist, to help, if that’s okay, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He guides you down a well lit hallway, and stops at a door before turning to face you.

“Is this okay? Or is it too much?” He questions softly, and you dip your head, unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s a bit much.” You mumble, looking down at your shoes.

He bends his body, smiling as he manages to fit his head into your line of sight, it pulls a small smile from you too.

“If you could bear with me, omega.” He whispers so softly that the words kick off a yearning need in your head, “I have a surprise that will hopefully make up for it.”

You tilt your head up, and he moves, straightening his body to remain in your line of sight.

“Okay.” You surrender, trying to allow yourself to be swept up by him, even temporarily.

He gives you a pleased smile, hindbrain preening in response that you’ve made alpha happy. He turns, knocking on the door.

After a few moments, an omega with a kind smile opens the door. He introduces her as Maria, and you spare him one more glance before you step into the room, nodding when he says he’ll see you on the roof in two hours.

The elevator plays soft music as you travel upward, the sound of your own breathing heavy in your ear.

You weren't sure you'd picked the right dress, a little self conscious that you'd chosen something that might be too juvenile.

The strawberry dress had been too beautiful, your eyes had been drawn to it the moment you saw it, and no matter how hard you tried to convince Maria that it was a bad idea, she'd insisted that you picked the dress you most loved.

You really did like it, the tulle and the colour, and the cut of the dress going so low that you'd skipped your bra and used boob tape to hold your cleavage in place.

You weren't sure how painful removal would be, Maria had suggested baby oil, you just hope you had some at home.

She'd fixed your hair into soft curls, and she was really nice about what you liked and didn't, and by the end of it, she felt more like a friend helping you than a stylist being paid to do so.

The elevator doors open, and you cautiously step out. You take a deep breath through your nose, catching the faded scent of him, and following it.

Down a short hallway, and into a large open restaurant space. It was quiet, void of anyone, tables and booths empty.

You frown a little, confused as to why a restaurant this opulent would be closed. Sure, it was still daylight out on a weekday, but it didn't make sense to you on a business level.

The entire restaurant is surrounded by floor to ceiling windows, with a large pane of glass in the middle of the room, blurry with falling water.

The soft sound invites you, and as you get closer, You make out a wavy silhouette behind the glass.

You step around it, finding William facing the window, looking down at his phone.

He's dressed pristinely in a dark blue shirt, black pants and shoes, though the top buttons on his shirt are open, giving off a more casual vibe than his work shirt from earlier.

You watch him take a slow breath, and then lift his head in realisation, turning to look at you.

You smile at him as he turns, fitting his phone into his pocket in one swift moment, slowly approaching you.

He doesn't say anything, and you're too afraid to see repulsion in his eyes to keep looking at him, so instead you study his attire as well, admiring the way he looks, noticing the delicate silver chain shimmering around his neck as he moves.

He says your name, and you glance up at him with wide eyes as he stands before you.

He takes another slow breath, and raises a hand to push some of your hair away from your scent gland, the tips of his fingers just gently brushing it, eliciting an almost violent shiver of pleasure.

“You look…” He lets out an amused breath, shakes his head slightly, “I can’t find the right word. Beautiful? Divine? Bewitching. Radiant...”

Delight bubbles inside of you until you can't resist a pleased smile.

“Thank you, Alpha, you look very nice too.”

When you say his title, you watch his eyes darken, his scent growing a little stronger in the space between you as his body calls out to yours.

You can feel it, the heat between you, the promise that he would take care of your every need no matter what.

“Hungry?” He asks, and you swear his words have a double meaning.

You nod, because you can't say it out loud, that you were starving, famished, not just for food but for the pleasure of his company, for the pleasure of him.

He guides you to the far end of the restaurant, towards a secluded corner, where there's a table waiting for you.

You don’t get a chance to study the table because you’re distracted by a large… object covered in a velvet shroud.

You walk around the object, preoccupied with it, turning to look at William with your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“It’s my surprise,” He explains, stepping closer to you so that you can breathe him in, “I hope you like it.”

You look at it, the velvet shroud going up high, hanging precariously from the ceiling you think, one firm tug might bring it down.

When you look back at him, he’s got his eyes on you.

“When can I see what it is?” You ask eagerly.

He blinks, as if coming back to himself, glancing at the object as if he’s just remembered it.

“Take a step back,” He instructs, waiting until you comply to give another directive with a low voice.

“Close your eyes.”

Your heart pounds, excitement and anxiety war within you, the former winning over as you let your eyes close.

You hear footsteps, and then a tug, the sound of the shroud falling and the wind it generates as it does, caressing your face.

There’s a moment of silence, where your impatience fights you to open your eyes before he says, but you try your best to wait for William’s permission.

“You can open them now.”

You gasp in shock when you recognise what you’re looking at.

There’s so much gold, the painting glimmers in the light of the falling sun, you take a step forward, unsure of where to begin your examination.

You tilt your head, studying the little flowers first, eyes roaming up to examine the clothing of the two subjects in the portrait, then the hands, the different colours, the flowers in her hair, the leaves in his.

A larger, male subject, pressing a kiss onto his lover’s cheek.

The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt.

“It’s beautiful, so much like the real one.” You murmur absentmindedly.

“It is the real one.”

You pause, unable to register his words, before turning to him in shock, lips parted.

The alpha’s pleased expression grows into a smile.

“What do you mean this is the real one? The real one’s in Europe somewhere.”

He nods, as if to agree with you.

“Vienna, yes.”

You turn to examine the painting once more.

“...How?...Why?”

“I think you’ll find that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make your eyes glitter like they are right now.”

Me? You think in shock, looking away, down, towards the floor, unable to process the implications of his words.

He takes a step closer to you, catching your attention, you turn to him just as he reaches you.

For a long moment, all you do is look into each other’s eyes. You take a slow breath, breathing in his citrus smell, the bergamot chasing after you.

You turn your head back to the painting, studying it while you feel his eyes on you.

“It’s gorgeous, Alpha, thank you.” You feel so much emotion, that it fills your throat and threatens to spill out.

Your lip wobbles, glancing up at him for a moment, and then turning away when you realise that he can probably see the tears in your eyes.

You feel his hand on your arm.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Why the tears?”

“It’s stupid, sorry.” You take a deep breath, sighing when he extends a handkerchief to you that you accept gratefully.

His hand moves, to wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest.

“Talk to me.” He whispers, his breath disturbing your hair.

“No one’s ever-” You let out a little laugh of delirium, “-No one’s ever done something so thoughtful for me.”

He hums, as though he understands, sympathizes with you, he wraps his arms around you, tucks your head into his chest.

His scent wraps around you, soothing you almost instantly, your eyes flutter shut as you register the beat of his heart below your ear.

“I just wanted to see you smile.” He says.

You do.

Dinner comes in a few moments later, and he guides you to the table just behind, with soft, comfortable chairs to settle into. He even checks in on your level of ease, inquiring about the brightness, and whether or not it was satisfactory. You smile softly, calmly reassuring him that the area was perfect, the tint on the windows keeping the intensity of the light low. Dim and comfortable, you can’t really ask for anything more.

The first course is a light broth, and you're a little confused that they brought this out without having you look at a menu.

It's definitely refreshing, to not have to struggle with a decision on what to eat, but you're not sure if to ask William about it, in case it's just some rich person custom that you're unfamiliar with.

In any case, this arrangement pleases you because it means you can stare at The Kiss in admiration while the sun sets, casting a soft orange glow around the room, enhancing the mostly gold painting.

“Will you tell me about it?” William asks, and you spare a shy glance at him.

He tilts his head in the direction of the painting. You swallow your food, gathering your thoughts to answer.

“It's inspired by the painter and his lover, it's one of the most popular paintings of an alpha and omega pairing. There was a… speculation that they were soulmates, but I'm not sure how true that is. Some people think that because the omega is turning away, that the kiss isn't consensual… but I don't think so, she seems… happy to me.”

“You don't think they were soulmates?”

You turn to William.

“Not really, I don't… believe in the soulmate theory.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“No?” He says curiously.

You shake your head.

“It's a little unreal to think that there’s some kind of perfect match for a person.”

“It's not necessarily a perfect match like in the movies, it's a suggestion of… compatibility really.” He says.

You blink, studying his expression, wanting to express your disbelief that he would believe in something so farfetched but not wanting to be disrespectful.

“It's not even a perfect match, it's the way the theory specifically targets alpha and omega pairings. As if omegas aren't already bound by their biology enough, someone had to come up with an idea to hold us back even further by romanticising the concept of an alpha match.” You keep your tone calm, so that he understands you're not upset.

He tilts his head in contemplation.

“You don't like the idea of being with an alpha?”

You swallow.

“That's… not what I mean. I just don't like being forced into thinking that it's my only option in search of companionship.”

He makes a face of contemplation, seeming to understand where you were coming from.

Plus, it was a trick alphas had used with you in the past to encourage you to stay in toxic environments.

Don't give up on us, omega, we're soulmates, I can feel it.

You had been fooled before, it would not happen again.

William studies you for a long moment, and you gaze back evenly, before he smiles, tilting his head once more to lighten the mood.

“You make a good point, but still, I can’t help but point out the ways alphas are made for omegas, of course a pairing between them would be stronger.”

His words take you aback, it's the first time someone has ever made the comment that alphas are the ones made for omegas, usually they say it the other way around.

“Maybe…” You concede, unable to stop yourself from thinking about his words. You wonder for a brief moment if he was made for you.

It sends a warm feeling across your chest.

You turn your head, looking up at The Kiss.

“My past experience has made me skeptical about the entire theory, Alphas before have used it to keep me compliant.”

He lets out an audible breath, and when you turn your head to look at him, you find his fists curled and his head dipped low.

The scent of anger hits you, spicy in the air, like a mix between smoke and hot peppers.

“Alpha?” You whisper in concern, worried that his anger is directed toward you.

Tentatively, you reach out, fingers shaking slightly as you touch one of his clenched fists.

He relaxes the fist, turns his hand upward so that his palm is pressed upward into yours. Your palm tingles where you touch.

“Angry on your behalf, omega,” He tries to explain with a low voice, “You shouldn't have had to go through that.”

Realisation washes over you. The smell of his anger excites you now that you understand it's not directed at you.

You feel butterflies, you feel warmth, you suck in a deep breath to get some semblance of control over your hindbrain.

“Thank you, Alpha.” Your voice, almost a purr.

He blinks, studying you, his eyes shifting from surprise to pleased as he realises the effect he has on you.

The sound of footsteps coming your way makes you draw back.

The second course is lobster pasta, creamy and delicious and you try extra hard not to make yourself messy while eating it.

“What do you think?” He asks between bites of his food.

You look up, eyes wide as he gazes back at you.

You swallow your food, thinking hard about what to say.

“I'm still skeptical about the soulmate theory, but maybe you're right that it does exist. Looking at the painting up close, you see that gold aura surrounding both of them? I think that's supposed to represent their bond. They loved each other, there's no question there.”

You watch a smile pull onto his perfect face.

“I meant the meal, sweetheart.”

Your face grows warm.

“Oh… It's good!” You look down at the plate shyly, “Yeah.”

He chuckles.

“You're very cute when you're shy.”

You bite the edge of your lip, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He grins down at you and something warm settles in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him.

Maybe you could, maybe he would let you.

In this beautiful dress you feel like you're not yourself, your insecurities washing away under his gaze. For the first time, you’re just an omega, enjoying the company of an alpha that you hope could be yours in time.

You think about being in his arms, the way he makes you feel, his ability to soothe you, the ways you hope he would sate you.

You suck in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before your pheromones give away your needy state of mind.

Should you take him up on his offer to be his Omega? Would it be possible to balance that? How would it even work?

“William?” You say softly.

He pauses his movements to look at you.

“Earlier- Maria called you ‘Billy’- made me wonder if you were friends?”

The corner of his lips pull into an affectionate smile, you try really hard not to worry about the other omega.

“Maria is mated to my brother, Frank. She owns a small salon on the east side, I thought she would help you feel comfortable.”

That's so thoughtful, you think.

“Yes, she was amazing, thank you.”

If this was a trap, then it was well set, you couldn't see a flaw, you didn't have any reason to think he could be like other Alphas.

“Everyone has called me “Billy” for as long as I can remember. My real name had never really appealed to me until I heard you say it.”

You give him a warm smile, your stomach fluttering at the privilege you didn't realize you had until now.

You wanted this so much that it terrified you. To be his Omega- what would it be like? To have unrestrained access to him, to be able to scent him as you please, to be scented in return.

He sucks in a sharp breath, leaning away, it catches your attention. Your eyes widen when you realise your pheromones are heavy in the air.

His eyes roll shut, he lets out a shaky breath, fingers curling because of you for the second time tonight.

It doesn't help, the look of him, barely restrained, fighting his nature with every ounce of self control only makes you want him more.

“I'm sorry.” You whisper, scared to break his focus.

He lets out a breath, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth. The look of leashed delirium in his eyes when he finally opens them.

“Don't be.” He responds, his voice so deep that it almost makes you shiver with how pleasing it sounds.

You suck in deep breaths too, to calm yourself, eyes drifting to the painting to let it distract you.

You certainly were a match, there was no question about it, the urge to tear at each other was there, the only thing holding you back was social etiquette, and your internal reservations.

The effect your heat must have had on him- you almost feel sorry for what you might have put him through.

Dessert is a caramel drizzled pecan cookie, soft and chewy, the right amount of spices and sugar that makes you lick your fingers afterwards with the knowledge that it was the best cookie you've ever had.

You catch him looking at you with kind eyes and you try your best not to shy away from his gaze.

When you excuse yourself to the restroom, you try to look like you know where you're going, at least until you're out of his eyesight, and then you wander around the empty restaurant until you find a sign pointing you in the right direction.

You’re in one of the stalls when you hear loud voices and footsteps.

“-my god! That is literally the hottest Alpha I’ve ever seen in real life.” A first voice says, on the side of a little too high pitched for your sensitive ears.

“I knoooow,” The other person responds, “I would literally do anything he asked me to do.”

You pause, feeling a little strange to interrupt their obviously personal conversation by stepping out.

“I heard from Tim that he rented out the entire restaurant for the night just to impress some omega.”

Wait, were they talking about William?

You hear the stall next to you open and close, the taps turning on.

“No, I think they had to clear the restaurant for the night because of the painting and something about security.”

“Oh, that makes sense, the amount he must have paid to get all that done in one evening. God, I would jump him literally after dessert.”

You hear a groan, the sound of water as the taps turn on.

“I know right? I’ve been totally scenting the air in hopes that he gives me a second look. Nothing too obvious, only subtle enough for him. I really, really hope…”

The rest is unintelligible as the voices fade.

You wait a few more moments to make sure they’re really gone before you unlatch the door and step out.

It’s a lot of information to have overheard, and you’re not really sure what to think.

You step up to the sink, washing your hands methodically, reaching for a little towel to dry your hands, before looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

You smile at yourself, hindbrain preening that Alpha had gone through such lengths to capture and hold your attention. That maybe, Alpha wanted you, really really wanted you and no other omega would do.

He’s standing at the painting when you see him again, the table has been cleared, and you watch him as he focuses on the canvas in front of him.

He turns to look at you when he catches movement in his peripherals.

You’re very skittish to approach him, your mind spinning at a mile a minute, trying to both overthink and under simplify the actions you want to make.

The expression on your face must worry him, his eyebrows draw together as he studies you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks calmly, and you lift your head, studying his face of concentration.

You part your lips, trying to speak, no words able to leave your moving lips.

He dips his head, trying to make sense of the nothingness escaping you.

His scent fills your nose, the citrus, the bergamot, a very new touch of spice that pushes your hindbrain into desperation.

“Alpha.” You whisper softly, a touch of yearning in your voice, tilting your head up to press your lips to his.

It’s an instant, and total erasure of any higher thought. The way his mouth feels against yours, like something ancient and primal finding its way back to each other again. A familiarity that your mind and body has been searching for from the day you presented.

It’s over too soon, even though it feels like it lasted forever. Time slows as you lean away, looking up at him, searching his eyes for any sign that you’ve made the wrong move, the ghost of his touch tingling at your lips.

You listen to the depth of his breathing, your heart hammering anxiously in your chest, awaiting his reaction. You catch a flare of his scent, the citrus notes deepening and your hindbrain eases your anxiety, a response that tells you that Alpha is pleased.

Finally, he makes a low hum, stepping forward, one arm winding around your back so that your bodies are pressed flush to each other.

“Omega.” He rumbles in response, fingers under your chin to tilt your head, guiding your mouth to his once more.

His mouth is insistent, pressing back, meeting every move of your desire with a response of his own. He moans, his warm breath on your tongue as the kiss grows into something… more.

Losing yourself, your hands cling to his shoulders, finding balance as you rise onto your toes, desperate to taste him, to feel the ache of yearning ease with each move of his mouth.

His lips are soft, sinful, you can feel his barely restrained movements, his hand gliding to grip the back of your neck, trapping you in place as if you could ever think about departing from his embrace.

Your scent gland tingles, spilling your need into the air, your body trying its best to entice him.

His mouth grows more insistent, demanding, and you find yourself responding, lips parting, tongue reaching out to gently graze along his bottom lip.

His hold on you tightens, fingers gripping your hip deliciously, desire pooling low in your stomach in response.

Both of his hands cup your face, kisses slowing as if he's trying to find the strength to stop but unable to.

You smile into the kisses, each one more meaningful than the last, until finally he pauses, looking down at you with a pleased expression on his face.

His thumb glides along your lips, the scent of both your desires intermingling heavily in the air.

“I take it then, that you don't want me to leave you alone after this?”

You huff out a laugh, almost rolling your eyes.

He grins too, before leaning in to get one more kiss.

“Maybe,” you murmur softly, “Maybe I don't.”

He hums in agreement, dipping his head, unable to stop himself from getting yet another kiss.

Your heart feels so full in your chest, it feels like you're going to burst with the flood of emotion. He doesn't push you into anything, avoids touching your scent glands though you know you both want him to. You can feel his fingers tightening their grip on your cheek and jaw, trying their hardest not to wander.

His scent grows more potent in the room, and by the time you leave, the betas in the restaurant are giving him their largest doe eyed stares.

It's a shame for them that he barely spares them a glance, his hand settled on the small of your back to put you at ease by making you feel protected.

His scent overwhelms you in the car, but you've been aching and wet for a while and you've just kind of gotten used to the discomforts of unresolved desire. You know without a doubt that you're going to have to relieve this ache inside of you by yourself tonight, and it's definitely going to be his name on your tongue the entire time you do it.

You take a long look at him beside you, and you wonder if he would be doing the same.

Tucked into his side, it's easy to tilt your head up, and press your nose to his scent gland, breathing him in, hearing him groan in response, your body tingling.

He doesn't stop you, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip hard to stop yourself from kissing the spot on the base of his neck.

It's surreal, the time you spend with him, that when he stops at the wrong building, it's like a punch to the gut.

This is where you'd lied and told him you lived… because you were ashamed of your real address.

“Can I walk you to your door?” He asks politely, warm reassurance in his eyes that he simply wants to make sure you're safe.

“No.” You answer hastily, smiling in an attempt to put him at ease, “I'm alright, thank you.”

You glance down at your strawberry dress, anxiety filling you at the thought of being seen in something like this, that it might catch attention you didn't want.

“It's cold outside, do you want my coat?”

You blink up at him in surprise.

He gives you a teasing smile, reaching for a garment on the seat in front of him, producing a familiar coat and extending it to you.

You swallow, accepting the coat on autopilot, face heating as you remember the things you did with this coat during your last heat.

You bring it up to your nose, hindbrain in control, taking a slow inhale of his scent.

Fuck, it was delicious. Your mouth waters as you meet his dark eyes.

“Thank you, Alpha.” You purr, sliding the coat on, over your dress, watching his eyes darken further at the sound of your voice.

He reaches up, trapping a lock of your hair between his fingers, twisting it, tugging on it gently as his hand slides down.

He looks like he’s deep in thought, but you’re just not sure about what.

“Goodnight, Omega.” He finally says, after a few moments of silence.

Stepping out of the car, leaving him behind, your limbs grow heavy with protest the further away you get from him.

When you make it into the building, you finally see his SUV drive away.

There’s an ache to leaving you behind that leaves Billy both confused and captivated.

He lets out a slow breath, sinking into the seat, head tipped back.

Keeping himself in check had been the most difficult thing he’d ever experienced. To look at you, was to want you, and to want you, was to need you. Every look, every touch, every smile on your mouth was a lesson in self control.

He was unbelievably afraid of scaring you away, that his control would slip, and his desires would show, and they would terrify you into leaving.

The ways he wanted you, the ways he thought about you. He lets out a soft groan, tugging at his shirt to get himself more air, but all he can smell is you.

He wants the feel of your bare hips in his hands, the taste of your skin in his mouth, his lips over your scent gland, your pitiful little whines filling his ears as he takes his time with you, discovering every way one human can make another fall apart, so that he can put you back together again.

Thoughts, that were maybe too insane to be thinking after a second date. Thoughts that would make you run if you knew just how close he’d been to actually carrying them out. No Omega, had ever made him hurt with the fear of rejection quite like this before.

That solid ache in his chest to be in your presence was only getting stronger, and then you'd kissed him.

He lifts a hand, pressing it to his mouth, remembering the way your lips had felt, the way your scent had sweetened. He resists a groan, your scent calling out to him like a beacon in the dark.

With his eyes closed, he could feel a pull, drawing him in the opposite direction of where he was going.

His apartment is lonely. The silence is loud, the smell is all wrong. He fits himself into his single sofa chair, large enough that his pretty Omega could fit herself into the space beside him, or on top of him if she’d like. He sips on the whiskey in his hand, an attempt to ease his nerves, to make the wrongness of his place feel a little less so.

He lets the silence fill him, wonders what you’re doing, thinks about texting you. He opens his phone and sees all his sent messages.

Billy hesitates.

Maybe he should wait, let you reach out this time, whenever you were ready.

Puts his phone down, thinks about you more, groans when he catches your scent on his clothes.

It hurt to wait. It made his chest burn with the notion that he couldn’t just reach out to you, because you might draw back.

He presses a hand to his chest, tries to take a deep breath and be patient.

The whiskey is almost finished when he feels his phone vibrate.

He picks it up, and smiles.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega!Reader #Alpha!Billy Russo

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pascalispretty · 2 months ago

Text

the feeling is mutual

Sonny Carisi x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags: pining, idiots in love, cowgirl sex, Sonny's praise kink, only one bed trope

Summary: You've had a crush on your colleague for years. You go to a work conference with him, and fate fucks with you by making sure you get a room with just the one bed.

A/N: Soooooooo I started working on this back in October 2022, at the request of the lovely @misscharlielulu. Life intervened, and I kinda got the writing yips, but when I saw that @storiesofsvu's bingo had an 'Only One Bed' square I was determined to finish it. Unbeta'd like whoa, so please be gentle! (ao3).

You should have been suspicious of Benson’s offer to send you to the conference from the beginning. It had been presented to you nicely enough - a long weekend in Boston, paid for by the department so you could attend the Conference on Crimes Against Women. It hadn’t taken much persuading to get you to agree to go, especially when you found out Carisi was also going.

That was before the drive from hell. The two of you had left as soon as you finished work for the day, only to almost immediately hit nasty traffic. What should have been a four-hour journey had taken almost seven thanks to an accident just past the Connecticut state line. After swapping driver duties with Sonny somewhere outside of Hartford, you’d found your eyelids starting to get heavy, but had resolved to stay awake. It wasn’t fair to Carisi for you to sleep while he drove.

You have no idea how long you’ve been dozing when a gentle nudge to your arm wakes you.

“Hey, I think we’re finally here,” Sonny says as you rub your eyes. So much for not sleeping. You’re relieved to see that he’s pulling into the parking garage below the hotel, but it's short-lived.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You roll your neck, wincing at the crick that’s developed from resting your head on the window.

“It’s fine, I figured you could use it. The Spellman case has us all working late.” He’s right; the case was drawing plenty of media attention, and you’d all been racking up plenty of OT trying to solve it. The two of you had spent part of the drive debating it, and whether there was a way to get the stupid, invasive podcast taken down.

You both grab your bags and make your way to the elevator. Pressing the button for the lobby, you try and fail to suppress a yawn.

“Sorry,” you apologise again. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up and actually felt rested,” Carisi says lightly, giving you a soft, understanding smile. You try not to think too deeply about the way it makes your stomach twist - or, for that matter, how good he looks in his new camel coat.

“Tell me about it,” you groan. The elevator spills the two of you out into a deserted lobby, and you do a double-take when you look out of the enormous windows at the front of the building.

“Oh, yeah. It started snowing about an hour ago,” Sonny says, cutting himself off with a yawn. Outside, the snow is coming down thick and fast, already sticking to the ground. You can just about see the glow of a few headlights, but beyond that, the world has turned to a soft dove grey.

There’s a harried-looking woman behind the concierge desk; the Conference attracts cops from all over the country, you wouldn’t be surprised if the hotel was booked out by the various agencies and precincts.

“Hi, we have two rooms booked for us. Should be under the name Benson?” Sonny asks the concierge, searching on his phone for the confirmation email Liv had forwarded to you both. The concierge types something on the computer sitting on her desk and frowns.

“I got one room under that name. Any other name you might have used?”

“No, Liv definitely said she booked them under her name,” you tell her, glancing at Sonny as he turns his phone to show the woman behind the desk.

“Our Lieutenant definitely booked us two rooms, look,” Sonny tries, and the two of you exchange a frown. The concierge scans the email, then her own screen again.

“I don’t know what to tell you. The system only has one booking under Benson. It’s the only room left in the hotel; we’re booked solid because of this conference.” You and Sonny exchange another look.

“I mean - I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” You tug your lower lip between your teeth, trying to think of another solution that doesn’t involve sharing a bedroom with the colleague you have a very inappropriate crush on. Sonny taps his fingers on the desk and looks again at the concierge as though he’s hoping she’ll be able to conjure another room out of nowhere.

“I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He sounds so earnest, and you want to pinch his cheeks and tell him he could never, but instead you shrug.

“It’s fine, you won’t. Unless you snore, or sleepwalk or something,” you tease, and he grins.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he says, turning back to the concierge. Is it your imagination, or is he blushing slightly? “Can we get the keys, please?” The woman looks relieved that the two of you have resolved the situation between yourselves, and seemingly can’t press the keycards into your hands fast enough.

“You’re in 2342; take the elevator to the fourth floor and turn right.” The two of you thank her and pick your bags up again.

“Should we say something to the Lieutenant?” You offer as the two of you make your way upstairs. “She might be getting charged for both rooms or something.”

“Yeah, probably. Maybe the hotel thought she meant two beds, not two rooms?” Sonny runs a hand through his hair; the product’s grip on his greying locks has relaxed, leaving it looking soft and touchable.

“Maybe,” you say distractedly, stopping in front of door 2342. “I think this is us.” You try the keycard and are relieved when the light on the lock turns green.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get some sleep.” Carisi takes your bag as you push open the door, and you smile quickly at him over your shoulder.

“Oh no, the feeling is definitely mutual. I feel like I could sleep for a week-” You abruptly cut yourself off when you turn the light on and get a glimpse of the room. It’s a perfectly nice room–if anything slightly nicer than what you had been expecting on the department’s dime. It’s decently sized, with large windows and a flatscreen on the wall. There’s even a comfy-looking overstuffed armchair by one of the windows.

The only problem is that there’s only one bed.

Your cheeks burn as you realise your mistake. You had assumed that the hotel had accidentally put you in one room with two beds, instead of two rooms with one bed each.

“Oh shit, Carisi, I’m sorry-” You start, walking deeper into the room so he has space to enter behind you and see what the problem is. The door clicks closed behind him, and you swallow thickly.

“Oh. Uh-” he rakes his hand through his hair again. “You take the room. I’ll find somewhere else.” He offers, but you’re already shaking your head.

“Where? The concierge said they were full, and there’s no way you can get a decent room on this short notice.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth again, trying to walk the fine line between sounding considerate and desperate. As much as the thought of sharing a bed with Carisi makes you panic, you don’t want to kick him out into the cold.

“No, it’s fine. I can sleep in the car if I can’t find anywhere; I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” It’s so characteristically sweet that you roll your eyes. Crossing over to the window, you pull the drapes aside just enough to see the snow still falling thick and fast outside.

“You are not sleeping in your car in a blizzard, Carisi. It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the armchair.” You grab a pillow from the bed before he can argue and throw it towards the chair. “Crank the thermostat up and lend me a blanket from the bed, and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not letting you sleep in a chair,” he says, though he does move over to the thermostat to change it. “I’ll take the chair.”

“You’re like seven feet tall, there’s no way you’re sleeping in the chair.”

“I’m six foot even, and a night sleeping there won’t kill me. In the morning, I’ll look for a room in a different hotel or something.” You open your mouth to argue with him again, but he cuts you off. “You’re not changing my mind. I have three sisters, I know how to be stubborn.”

“Fine. Better than you trying to drive around in this storm, as tired as you are.” You throw your hands up in exaggerated defeat, before starting to tug one of the sheets off the bed. Carisi moves to the other side of the bed to help you, stripping the top sheet off and tossing it onto the armchair.

“You wanna use the bathroom first?” Your bags are still sitting by the door, and you pick up your overnight bag and set it on the bed. For a brief moment you panic as you start to unzip it; what pyjamas did you pack in your hurry this morning? You can’t remember if they’re relatively normal looking, or the grotty but oh-so-cosy ones you usually reserve for being ill or on your period.

“Nah, you go ahead.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him shaking the sheet out to drape it over the armchair. Your hands finally close on your pyjamas, and you take them and your toiletry bag into the bathroom. The bathroom is, just like the room, nicer than you had expected it to be. The little soaps and shampoos are brands you actually recognise, and you’re delighted to see that your room has a shower and a tub. Maybe tomorrow you can have a nice, long soak and pretend this mortifying night never happened.

It doesn’t take you long to throw your hair up in a messy bun and wash the remains of your makeup off your face. You strip quickly out of your work clothes, hesitating a moment before deciding to keep your bra on. Slipping on the grey tank top you’d brought as a pyjama top, you’re a little relieved that the pyjamas you’d grabbed at random from the drawer were plain and not embarrassingly old or cutesy.

Your relief is short-lived. When you go to shake out the folded-up black leggings, you realise with dawning horror that they’re not your leggings at all. In your hurry to pack this morning, you’d grabbed a pair of pyjama shorts, black jersey with a little lacy trim. Your face burns flaming hot again as you stare at them. You have no other choice - your only other bottoms are work clothes, and a pair of jeans - but they show off more of your leg than you’re really comfortable with your colleague seeing.

Cursing yourself for leaving packing until this morning you reluctantly slide the shorts on, trying to tug them down to cover a little more of your thighs. Clutching your clothes to your chest, you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom.

Carisi has been busy while you’ve been gone. He’s made a makeshift bed for himself on the armchair, and moved the bags away from the door. Your purse is sitting beside your weekend bag, and his own bag is open on the desk. He’s currently searching through it, and you can't help staring a little. His coat, jacket and tie are gone and he’s rolled his shirt sleeves up, exposing his forearms. You swallow thickly and drag your eyes away with difficulty. You need to grow up.

The bathroom door closes behind you, catching Sonny’s attention. He looks up from whatever he’s searching for in his bag and does a double-take when he sees you.

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” He teases, unable to help the laugh that escapes him. “Did you leave packing til the last minute again?” Your cheeks are probably hot enough to counter whatever cold you might feel from the weather, and you glare at him.

“Shut up. They were folded, I thought they were leggings.” You dump the clothes in your arms into your open bag and dig around for your phone charger. Sonny chuckles again and shakes his head.

“You sure you’re gonna be warm enough? You can borrow my hoodie if you want.” You’re sorely tempted to take him up on the offer. The burgundy hoodie he’s holding out to you looks cosy, and it undoubtedly smells amazing, but you can’t. You need to get over this, whatever this is.

“I’ll be okay.” With your phone charger in hand, you move your bags onto the floor by the bed and set about plugging your phone in to charge overnight. Sonny quietly excuses himself to the bathroom, and you take advantage of having the room to yourself to clamber into bed without showing any more of your legs. You almost groan once you settle down under the blankets; this bed is comfortable. It’s almost enough to make you glad that Sonny insisted on sleeping on the armchair instead of you. Almost. Once you’re suitably snuggled in, you unlock your phone and type out a quick message to Benson explaining the room situation.

It doesn’t take Carisi long to return from the bathroom, and you let out an inelegant snort when you see him.

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” You parrot teasingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Sonny’s wearing a Fordham tee and a pair of cotton boxer shorts. He has the good grace to flush, and he shrugs.

“It’s what I usually sleep in. I run warm.”

“You can turn the thermostat down if it’s gonna be too warm?” You offer. “I feel like a dick taking the bed and making you too hot.” He flashes you that soft smile again.

“You’re still just in shorts. Sure you don’t want my hoodie?” Carisi sets his folded clothes on the desk by his bag and waits for your answer.

“No, I’ll be fine. Turn the thermostat down a few degrees.” The room isn’t even that cold at the moment, and you’re sure you won’t feel it if the temperature drops a little while you sleep. Sonny obliges, fiddling with the thermostat again before settling down onto his armchair bed.

“Is it okay with you if I set an alarm for half nine?” The conference kicks off at eleven; an hour and a half should be plenty of time to shower and find some breakfast before you have to go downstairs.

“Yeah sure,” Carisi says, his reply trailing off into a yawn. “G’night.” You flip the switch by the bed, plunging the room into darkness.

“Night, Carisi.”

You really try to fall asleep. The bed is so comfortable, and you’re so tired. You had fallen asleep in the car, sitting up with the radio blaring. You’re not sure why it evades you now. The minutes tick by, and you can hear Sonny moving around in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Perhaps it's guilt keeping you awake, you reason.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you break the silence.

“Carisi?” You half-whisper, not wanting to wake him if he’s asleep.

“Yeah?” He sounds tired, and the guilt overrides any embarrassment you might feel.

“Will you just come and sleep here?” The question hangs in the air, and there’s a long pause while you wait for Sonny’s answer. “I don’t have cooties, Carisi, you can sleep next to me.”

“No, I know, but-” He pauses, and you hear him shift again. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive.” It’s so stupid of you. You’ve had a crush on Carisi since you first laid eyes on him; inviting him to sleep beside you is an unnecessary form of self-torture. But you know you’ll feel even worse tomorrow having to look at the deep shadows under his eyes from a sleepless and uncomfortable night in the chair.

You hear him sigh softly. A moment later, the mattress dips as he settles into the bed. Sonny’s keeping his distance, but you’re still painfully aware of his body in bed beside you. It’s unbearably intimate, and if it wouldn’t make you look like a lunatic after telling him how fine you were with him getting in, you’d take a pillow and go and sleep in the tub.

Annoyed with yourself, you roll over onto your side, facing away from him. As idiotic as you might be, at least you won’t have to deal with the guilt of depriving him of a good night’s sleep. Beside you, his breathing is evening out. Maybe at least one of you will sleep well.

******

You wake up feeling confused. You have no idea how you managed to fall asleep, or how long you’ve slept for. You’re also very preoccupied with the fact that you and Carisi appear to be spooning.

Sonny’s arm is slung over your waist and his body is curled around yours from behind, holding you close. His nose is pressed against the hinge of your jaw, his breath warm on your neck. Your bare legs are tangled together, and you’re so overwhelmed by the feel of so much of his skin against yours that it takes you a moment to realise what woke you.

Carisi is hard.

The line of his erection is pressing against the curve of your ass, and you nearly choke on your own tongue at the feeling. You take a deep breath and try to make sense of what’s happening. The two of you must have rolled together at some point in the night, and Sonny’s reaction must just be morning wood.

Not that being in Sonny’s arms is unpleasant. He’s warm and solid against you, and he smells good; something clean and masculine and him. Closing your eyes again, you try to figure out what to do. Before you can settle on an idea, Sonny’s arm briefly tightens around your waist, only to suddenly slide off.

“Oh fuck-” Carisi practically throws himself backwards, away from you. Sitting up in bed, you turn to look at him as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets and scramble out of bed. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” You follow him, managing to grab his hand before he can move away from the side of the bed.

“Carisi, it’s okay. It’s okay, you were asleep-” You start, kneeling on the bed in front of him and holding his hand tightly within your own. He’s shaking his head before you even get the first few words out, those beautiful blue eyes of his wide and distraught.

“It’s not okay,” he says, refusing to look down at you. “I was practically molesting you in your sleep-”

“Stop, you weren’t molesting me,” you try to argue, but Carisi ignores you.

“I’ll call the Lieutenant on my way back to Manhattan, let her know. God, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out. But you never have to see me again, I promise,” he rambles, trying to free his hand from your grasp. You don’t let go, giving it a squeeze instead.

“Calm down, take a breath. How you wanted me to find out what?” You adjust your position on your knees, barely able to breathe yourself. Sonny’s palm is hot and damp against yours, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“Find out that I liked you.” Carisi manages eventually, still steadfastly refusing to look down at you. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage, and your blood roars so loudly in your ears that you’re not sure you heard him right. You know he likes you, you’ve been friends for years. But he’s saying it in a way that conveys so much more than that, and you suck in a breath.

“You like me?”

“I- yeah. And now I’ve ruined it, and made you uncomfortable-” he starts again, and you roll your eyes. You bring your free hand up to his cheek, and the gentle touch is what finally makes him meet your eyes.

“Dominick. You haven’t made me uncomfortable. Really, you haven’t.” That finally silences him, your use of his real name catching his attention, though it doesn’t stop his eyes from searching for any hint to the contrary in your face. You take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “And…and you haven’t ruined anything either.”

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up to kiss him.

It’s not much more than a peck, a soft brush of your lips against his own ones. You pull back just a little, your noses almost brushing.

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed waking up in your arms.” There’s a silence so deep that you’d swear you should be able to hear the snow falling outside. Those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, sending your heart hammering even harder. After a long pause, his free hand comes up to cup your jaw with deliberate slowness, giving you time to move away.

Sonny’s thumb sweeps gently over your cheek as he lowers his head and kisses you. His lips are soft and full against yours, testing at first and deepening the kiss when you slide your free arm around him to pull him closer. A quiet sound of contentment escapes your throat as Sonny dips his tongue into your mouth, finally letting go of your hand so he can grasp your waist.

You can’t seem to get close enough to him, even with your chests pressed flush against one another. The kiss turns from careful to desperate as years of pent-up attraction are finally given an outlet.

It’s impossible to tell who moves first to lie down on the bed, whether you pull him down or he pushes, but you end up lying parallel to the headboard with Sonny on top of you. Your mind can barely reconcile that your longtime crush reciprocates your feelings, much less the warm weight of his body pressed against you.

Wanting to feel more of him, you slip one of your hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt and run your fingertips over his back. He shivers at the delicate touch, a sensitivity you mentally file away for later. Your legs fall open, and you choke back a whine when you feel the hard line of his cock press against you once more.

It’s so much. You want to feel him everywhere, to keep exploring him with your hands and mouth.

“Can I?” You ask, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling gently. He follows your lead, letting you pull the shirt over his head and discard it onto the floor. He was telling the truth earlier; he does run warm, his bare skin hot to the touch as your hands roam his back and sides.

One of Sonny’s hands drops down to hitch your leg over his hip, his large hand squeezing your thigh.

“I love your legs,” he murmurs. The kisses have left you breathless, but you still whine when he stops. Your hands sink into his soft hair as he shifts to press kisses down the column of your throat. You don’t mean to pull his hair when he kisses a particularly sensitive spot, but when he groans against the delicate skin you take it as your cue to do it again.

“Want you, Dominick,” you sigh against his forehead, rocking your hips to grind against him. You feel his breath catch in his throat, his own hips stutter against yours. There are too many layers of clothes between the two of you, and you do your best to wriggle out of your t-shirt without displacing Carisi.

Like the gentleman that he is, he helps you out. His hands cover yours to take over, pulling the soft cotton over your head. Your hands sink back into his hair almost immediately.

“Why’d you wear a bra to sleep in?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips. It’s so infuriatingly handsome that you want to drag him back down for more kisses, but you know that won’t get you out of your clothes any faster.

“Didn’t want to risk you seeing my nipples through my shirt,” you explain breathily as he ducks down to kiss over the tops of your breasts while his hands work at the clasp.

“Think I’m about to see a lot more than that, doll,” he mumbles against your skin. It makes you giggle, in spite of yourself. The two of you shed your clothes as quickly as you can while still staying as close as possible, too focused on removing the remaining barriers between you to care too much about the undignified scramble to strip.

“I wanna ride you,” you manage between kisses, and Sonny nearly falls off the bed in his eagerness to oblige you. He settles with his back against the headboard, watching you with hazy eyes as you grab a condom out of your purse.

“C’mere,” he says softly, holding his hands out to help you get comfortable in his lap. He hisses when you roll the condom down over his cock, the hand he’s resting on your hip squeezing reflexively.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you tell him, slowly pumping your hand down, then back up. He does look gorgeous out of his clothes, all lean and long-limbed. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”

Sonny’s other arm loops around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met,” he admits, his voice breathless with arousal. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you line him up with your entrance and slowly start to sink down. It pulls a loud moan out of both of you, the sound echoing around the room, so much louder than the whispers and gasps that had come before.

“Oh God, so have I, Sonny-” you manage, screwing your eyes closed. It’s been a while, and the lack of foreplay probably wasn’t wise given the fact that Carisi was bigger than you’d imagined. Not that you’d made a habit of imagining this, in trying to deal with your crush. Instead of sliding down smoothly the rest of the way onto him, you roll your hips, taking a little more of his length on each pass.

Sonny’s a mess under you. His hands clutch tight at your hips, and when you manage to open your eyes again, you see he has his head flung back against the headboard.

“You feel so good, Doll. Christ, you’re so fucking wet and we haven’t even done anything-” he cuts himself off with a shuddering groan as he finally bottoms out inside you. The tip of him is pressing up against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl, and it sends a swell of bliss coursing through you.

“You have such a perfect dick,” you tell him, enjoying the flush that intensifies on his face as he registers what you said. You lift yourself up just a little, an inch at best, and sink slowly back down, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You’re not sure if it’s the best adjective, but you need to tell him just how good he feels.

In fact, the two of you can’t seem to shut up. Even when you start riding him in earnest, the headboard bumping against the wall with every stroke, neither of you can stop talking. It’s like every time you’ve wanted to tell him how hot he is over the last three years is spilling out, along with endless praise for how good he feels. He gives it right back, telling you how perfect and sexy and hot you are in between telling you how much he wants to eat you out.

“I’d be so good at it, please doll, I just wanna show you how bad I want it,” he babbles, his hair damp with sweat at the temples.

You’re panting with every breath. Sonny leans forward to nuzzle into your neck, kissing and licking and sucking at the delicate skin there. Your nails dig into his shoulders when he drags his teeth over a particularly sensitive spot, and the groan he makes vibrates through your skin and straight down to your core.

“God, Dominick, yes,” you nearly sob. “So good with your mouth already, want you to kiss me everywhere…” You can’t finish the thought, but it wrenches another groan out of Sonny. You haven’t thought about a next time, whether this is a one-off or if cooler heads will prevail back in New York.

Later, the two of you can talk for real. You’ll wake up feeling better rested than you have in years, naked in Sonny’s arms, and talk about what happened, you promise yourself.

Right now, there’s just the two of you discovering how much you enjoy each other, how badly you’ve both wanted each other. The two of you just fit together, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. And all the pleasure you feel is magnified a thousandfold by the fact that your crush wasn’t unrequited at all, that Sonny wants you just as much as you want him.

You sink your hand back into his soft hair and ride him faster, utterly drunk on the noises he’s making. Dominick’s mouth wanders, kissing lines up your neck and licking messily at your nipples and nipping gently at your earlobe. In between, he murmurs about how

A real conversation can wait; right now, you want to see what it’ll take for you to leave him speechless.

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @irishavengersassemble

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order: svu #law and order svu fanfiction #dominick carisi x reader #kattsholidaybingo2024

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spencerreidenjoyer · 5 months ago

Note

could you write something based on the season 9 finale when spencer gets shot in the neck? maybe like y/n takes alex’s spot and she’s like super distraught and freaking out

not letting go | spencer reid x reader

wc: 750, rating: teen/mature

tags/warnings: spoilers for season 9 finale, sorta rewriting the finale (sorry blake ilysm), typical BAU violence, blood, lowkey angst, fluff, hurt-comfort (sort of)

a/n: thank u anon for this request! sorry i took so long but i literally just watched the season 9 finale today. i wanted to just scribble something down for it because it seemed interesting. i don't usually write stuff like this/in this style, so i hope you like it!

It’s stupid, trying to pull Sheriff Coleman back to safety. He’s been shot in the leg, the blood stain on his uniform only growing, and it looks so bad youmre not even sure if he’ll make it. Still, you try, a petite girl attempting to pull a full-grown man behind a police car door to save him from the gunfire that’s hailing down on you from within the diner.

It’s so loud, bullets ricocheting off metal, the sounds of gunfire sending you into a panicked state – but you’re here, trying to haul Sheriff Coleman to safety so his condition doesn’t get worse.

You’re clumsy, your clammy hands only causing your grip on the sheriff to loosen. He’s heavy, feet dragging in the sand underneath you, and the bullets keep hitting the car door you’re hiding behind for cover.

On a limb, you step out when the gunfire seems to lull, pulling the struggling sheriff with one swift movement. You’re left open, no way to defend yourself, and you hear Spencer shouting your name before he pushes you out of the way.

You fall onto your ass, alarmed, and when you turn you see Spencer crumpled onto the floor against the police car. You scream. Blood is rushing from his neck, and you clamber over to him to hold him.

“Spencer! Spence, oh, God,” you babble, your hand reaching up for his neck. You press down against his wound, apologising when he winces at the pain. “I’m sorry, baby. Oh, God.”

“My darling,” Spencer calls for you, voice weak. He can barely keep his head up, barely keep his eyes open. “Oh, my love.”

“Spencer, no,” You fight the sob rising up in your throat. “Keep your eyes open for me, please. Eyes on me, baby.”

“I love you so much,” Spencer says, and it sounds so ominous. Your heartbeat quickens. You feel like the world is ending. “Stay with me.”

You think you hear Morgan and JJ run past you, but you can’t focus on them when all you can worry about is Spencer. “Please, baby, I’m right here.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he chuckles weakly, voice strained. He smiles at you, looking almost drunk. “I love you. I’m so tired.”

“No, baby, please,” you weep, unable to stop the tears flowing from your eyes. “You can’t leave me.”

Spencer’s eyes flutter shut, looking so at peace. You feel his pulse thrumming under your palm still, the blood flowing from his wound warm and red and alive.

Your cry for help is raw, desperate, and you sob into Spencer’s chest as you hold him close to you.

It’s a miracle that Spencer survives – two millimetres to the right and the bullet would’ve torn through the carotid artery.

You sob with relief when the surgeon delivers the news, letting Penelope hold you as you both are hit with the news: Spencer’s okay.

You and Penelope sit by Spencer’s side until he wakes. You hold Spencer’s hand the whole time. Penelope keeps you company, trying to keep things lighthearted. She even brings Doctor Who figurines and red Jell-O and soup for Spencer for when he wakes up.

You wonder how long you could sit here before someone would chase you away, hours, days, weeks– but you feel a weak squeeze to your hand, and you whip your head around so fast to see Spencer, smiling up at you.

“Spence!” You try not to shriek, too overwhelmed with excitement when you see he’s awake. Penelope jumps up too.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says softly, his voice slightly hoarse. “And hi, Garcia.”

“You’re back,” Penelope says, a tear rolling down her cheek but she’s smiling so wide.

You reach over to hug him, to hold him tight, and you feel his arm come up around you to return the gesture. “Oh, Spence.”

“You didn’t actually think I was going to leave you, right?” Spencer laughs.

You press a kiss to his cheek. “I believed you wouldn’t. But I was still scared. I’m– I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too,” Spencer says, his hand rubbing your back to soothe you, as if he isn’t the one who was just shot and in surgery. “I’m right here.”

Spencer eats his Jell-O, and Penelope tells him about how Rossi said Spencer probably rerouted the bullet by the power of suggestion.

You all laugh, and you squeeze Spencer’s hand one more time. You’re not letting him go, not just yet.

He squeezes back as if to say he won’t let you.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes #criminal minds season 9 #criminal minds 9x24 #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

Wait! Hotch x stripper!reader was so good. I want more of their potential relationship!!

"I want a private dance."

You look up from your seat at the bar in surprise. Yes, you're in lingerie, and yes, you're in a strip club, but the patrons here usually leave you alone at the bar after a few dances.

"I'm not doing private dances tonight, honey," you say, sipping at your drink, condensation wetting your hands, "sorry."

"Are you kidding?"

You wipe a droplet off of your naked thigh. You should've gone into the dressing rooms and changed, but you'd been dancing for a long time without a break, and craved a little drink to numb your headache. "Not kidding. Sorry," you say again, though apologising makes you feel sick. It's not your fault, you're allowed to say no to private dances, but you've learned that saying sorry helps minimise their anger.

"That's what you're here for."

"No," you say, looking away from him. "'M just a dancer. Private dances are done at my discretion."

"You could at least look at me when I'm talking to you," he says sharply. "Don't be a bitch, sweetheart."

"That's enough."

You look up, then, at a familiar voice cutting in. Agent Hotchner stands tall, dark and handsome where he stands behind your disgruntled patron. "Talk to her with respect or don't talk," Agent Hotchner continues.

"Who are you?" the patron asks.

He doesn't even need his badge. Hotchner just looks at him, waiting. It's impressive how stony one man can look, how much authority he can carry in little but his stance.

The patron throws you a disgusted look and leaves the way he came. You breathe a sigh of relief, though you're pissed too. You explained yourself twice and it didn't matter, but Agent Hotchner's scolding was enough to send him running.

"Thank you," you say.

He shakes his head at you. "You shouldn't have needed my intervention in the first place."

Your chest hurts with a weird queasy shame. "I know, I should've– I mean, what did I think was gonna happen, sitting here." You laugh awkwardly.

His frown deepens. "That's not what I meant… I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" you ask, turning back to your drink. You scratch at the salt along the rim.

"That it happens, Y/N. That you have to deal with it."

"Thanks, Agent Hotchner," you say.

"You can call me Aaron, if you're comfortable."

He'd said the same a few weeks ago. You'd shown up at the BAU to meet Spencer (who'd been indisposed of, playing an intense game of chess against himself) and he offered you a ride home. He insisted you call Spencer first. He did everything he could to make you feel safe, which is more than most.

"Aaron," you say, tucking your hands between your thighs. What would his colleagues think of him, here, standing opposite of you and your lingerie? Your chest craned forward ever so slightly, the softness of your stomach and your bruised legs? "I don't know why you're here."

"I have some questions for you."

"Am I in trouble?" you ask.

He gives you a look. You imagine it to be something similar to, No, but I might be. It's a nice fantasy. "No. You were a great help with Lawley. I was hoping we could use your expertise again."

"Is this going to get dangerous for me?" you ask, tilting your head gently to one side. "Snitching?"

"I'd never let anything happen to you. And if you were to keep talking to the FBI, we could even facilitate compensation."

"I sell enough of myself."

He holds your gaze. "I understand. But I'd really appreciate your help with this."

"Okay." You slip out of your chair. "Can I get dressed, first, or…"

"Of course. Take your time." He doesn't gawk at you, doesn't stare, only meets you head on with that familiar furrowed brow. "Does it happen often?"

You let yourself picture him as neither a customer nor an agent with work to do. For a moment, he's a handsome man, striking heartfelt conversation. "All the time."

You change into your clothes and meet him again at the bar, where he asks you questions about a patron and you answer to the best of your ability. Before he leaves, he gives you his card. "If you need me," is all he says as he goes. You put the number in your phone and tuck the card into your dressing table, wondering what definition of need fits the bill.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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alotofpockets · 1 year ago

Text

The unexpected gift | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: Meeting Alessia at a bar while she's out celebrating her birthday.

A/n: In honour of Lessi's birthday :)

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

-----

You were looking around the busy bar, trying to find the friends you had arrived with. Only one of them was still sharing the table with you. “Have you seen the rest?” Emma shakes her head, “I saw Lexi leaving with some guy like fifteen minutes ago, and the last time I saw Mandy, she was making out with a girl on the dance floor.” You laugh, “Maybe we should go and find some people too.” You see your friend looking over your shoulder, “I think I found just the right person.” Her face lights up, so you look over your shoulder to see who she’s looking at. You immediately knew who she was talking about, “Em she's totally your type. You should go for it!” You encourage her. “You'll be alright on your own?” You've probably never nodded faster in your life, “Go shoot your shot!”

Now it was just you. First, another drink, you thought as you got up and headed to the bar. You had never been one to just step up to a girl and shoot your shot, so you were going to need some more liquid courage. What you hadn’t expected was for a girl to literally fall into your arms.

You quickly react and catch her before she falls down completely. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” The girl starts apologising profusely, her words barely registering as you’re immediately lost in her piercing blue eyes. “It's okay, but you could've just said hi, you know?” The girl visibly relaxes at your joke. “Hi.” She says with a big smile on her face. You went from being mesmerised by her eyes to being mesmerised by her smile. The girl was absolutely stunning, and you thanked the universe that you were the one she fell into. “Hey,” you send her a smile back, “what brings you out tonight?”

“I’m actually here celebrating my birthday with some of my friends. What about you?” At that the girl in front of you seemed to remember that it wasn’t just the two of you in the room. “That’s so fun, happy birthday! I’m here with a couple of friends too, except they all left to go make out with strangers.” You joke.

Before the blonde could respond, a hand fell onto her shoulder, “Oi Lessi, what’s taking so long?” Lessi, you smile now knowing her name. She nudges her head your way, hoping that her friend would leave her alone. “Oh, I see.” She says with a smirk, as she sees her friend's cheeks flush. The girl looks your way. “What are you drinking?” You give her your drink of choice and thank her before continuing your conversation, “So, Lessi is it?” She holds out her hand, “Alessia actually.” You shake her hand, “Y/n.” You realise you hadn’t let go of her hand yet, so you slowly retract it. “You should join me and my friends.” She said with a smile you couldn’t say no to even if you wanted to. So, when Alessia’s friend presses a drink into your hands, you find yourself following the two to the other side of the bar.

“Sorry for the wait, but don’t fear Katie is here with the drinks! Also, this is y/n, she’ll be joining us.” You wave to the group as a bunch of hello’s are thrown your way. Since the group was large enough to entertain themselves, Alessia guided you over to a free spot at the table, so you could continue your conversation. “You’ve got quite the group of people here with you.” You comment, looking out over the twenty something girls surrounding you. “Oh yes, I play football, and these are all my teammates. Since we’re such a big group when we all go somewhere, I like to just invite them out instead of having to host this many people at home.”

She tells you all about football, and her experience playing in the euro’s after you asked for it. You found it adorable that she was so passionate about her sport. You hadn’t even realised an hour had gone by since you had sat down, until one of her friends stood in front of you. “Less, come on, we want to go to the next bar.” The girl was looking at her expectantly, and looked to be very excited for their next step of the night. “You promised us karaoke, now let’s go.” Alessia looks between the two of you, “Okay Beth, calm down. We’ll go to the karaoke bar, tell the girls to get ready, and I’ll be right there.”

Once Beth turns around you hear her loudly announce to the group that you’re going to the next bar, you smile at her enthusiasm showing so clearly. “She’s really into karaoke, huh?” Alessia laughs, “I think she just enjoys watching everyone embarrass themselves, honestly. Would you want to come with us? I don’t want our time to end yet.” You loved the idea of spending more time with Alessia, so you agreed. “I’m not singing though.”

You quickly text your friends where you’re going as you were grabbing your coat, before you join Alessia’s friends outside. Alessia wasn’t there yet, so you make small talk with Lia, Vic, and Leah. A few minutes later you saw Alessia approaching, but before she reached you, she tripped over her own feet. Luckily Leah was quick to catch her this time. “That twice now, seems like you really needed some fresh air.” You laugh. “Trust me it’s not just the alcohol, she’s naturally clumsy.” Vic says, earning herself a playful shove from Alessia.

The karaoke bar was busy, so it took a while before any of the girls got to sing, but the atmosphere in the bar was great. You were dancing and singing along to the music along with the rest of the girls.

Beth, Jen, and Steph, were the first ones up on the stage, performing their rendition of ABBA’s Dancing Queen, they fully let go and belted the lyrics to the audience, and they sang it back just as loud.

As the night went on, you found yourself getting closer and closer to Alessia. Until eventually, her arms were around your waist, while you were swinging to the music together.

You didn’t want the night to end, but the bar was slowly emptying out, and you knew it was going to close soon. “Alright, last song everybody. This is Sweet Caroline performed by the Arsenal Women's team.” The DJ announced. The girls made their way to the stage, and before you had time to resist, you got dragged along with them.

Blending into the group, you let go and sing along with the words to the song.

Hands, touching hands

Reaching out, touching me, touching you

Sweet Caroline pam pam pam

Good times never seemed so good

You had to admit that that was a lot of fun.

Once everyone was out of the bar, Alessia took you aside, trying to get away from the loudness of her friends. “I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you for inviting me to join your birthday celebration.” Her smile grows, “Of course, I am so glad that I did. Thank you for a great night. Actually I was wondering if I could see you again sometime, like take you out on a date." She started fiddling with the rings on her fingers, suddenly becoming nervous. So, you take her hand in yours, “I would love to." Her nerves faded away just as quickly as they had appeared. “Yeah? That’s great. Let me get your number.” You put your numbers in each other’s phones.

“Thanks again for a great night.” Alessia said, taking your hand in hers again. “Likewise, birthday girl.” You’re about to move back to the rest of the group when you get an idea, and turn to Alessia again. “I haven’t given you a birthday gift yet.” Alessia laughs, “I mean I didn’t really give you any notice.” You smile at her quick joke. “That’s okay, I’m great at improvising.” You take a step closer to her, and lean in to kiss her.

Her lips are soft on yours, and you taste the sweetness of the cocktails she’s been drinking on them. You break the kiss with flushed cheeks from the wolf whistles and cheers coming from the group behind you. So, you lean in to whisper into her ear, “Happy birthday.”

Your house was only a couple blocks away, but Alessia insisted on you joining her in her Uber, making the driver take an extra stop. “Text me when you get home?” You ask as you get out, and she nods, “I will.”

When she was alone in the Uber, Alessia starts reminiscing on her birthday. She had a great time with her teammates, and got a lot of great presents. Thought, the unexpected gift of meeting you, was her favourite gift of all.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x y/n #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 17 days ago

Text

compos mentis 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hello again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Andy comes up the stairs and you back up. Your adrenaline continues to pound in your skull. You inhale sharply and cough. He slows as he gets to the top.

“How are you doing?” He asks cautiously.

You nod and gulp, “fine. I’m... fine.”

He closes his eyes and nods. When he opens them again, the intensity behind his blue irises makes you wince. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s okay,” you grasp the handle of the oxygen tank with both hands, keeping it in front of you like a shield.

“It’s not okay. Your mom is wrong, you know that, right?”

Your eyes dart back and forth, “she’s--”

“I know she’s your mom and you love her, because you’re a good girl, but I don’t want to hear excuses for her.”

You frown and flicks away a shell of tears with your lashes. “Sorry, Andy.”

“Don’t apologise to me, okay?” He sighs and pushes his head back as he grips his hips. “Look,” he looks down the hallway. “We’re gonna figure this out, together. Alright, sweetheart?”

You lower your gaze. You still can’t accept that your mom is just gone. That you’re here with just Andy.

“She won’t stay mad--”

“You can’t be serious? You can’t go back to her. Sweetheart, you’re sick and she’s not making it any better.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” you murmur.

His face flashes with concern and hurt, “that doesn’t matter.” His jaw ticks, “let me see your arm.”

“What?”

“Where she hit you, let me see it.”

You pull your arm back and put it behind you, “it’s not--”

He shakes his head, “I know it hurts. Even if you don’t show me, it doesn’t undo what she did or what I saw.” He sniffs and rubs his nose, “besides, I’m a lawyer, I kind of have to report that sort of thing.”

“Report? Oh,” you whimper. “Please, don’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he exhales.

“Please, Andy. I won’t go back but I don’t her to be in trouble.”

You look at him, the irritation stitched into his forehead. He purses his lips and drops his hand form his hip. He lets out a resigned breath.

“Alright, for now. We’ll just do one thing at a time,” he girds. “Let’s go pick up that mess.”

He steps past you and heads down the hall. You follow him, the wheels on the tank squeaking. He enters the guest room and kneels to gather the mess spilled from the belt bag. You near and bend to help. He glances up.

“Sweetie, please, you should sit down,” he says.

“I can help,” you insist as you grab your lip balm. At the same time, he reaches for it and clutches your hand by accident. You flinch away and recoil.

He doesn’t say a word as he continues to gather everything. He checks a pill bottle before he tucks it away. You peek at his face and notice the red blemish deepening on his cheekbone. The slap was loud, it sounded painful.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I’m not mad at you,” he assures as he keeps his head down.

“No, uh, that,” you point at his cheek. "Does it hurt?"

He stops, cradling the belt bag in one hand as he touches his cheek with the other. “Not really,” he says.

You reach out, “here, I’ll take it.”

He hands over the bag and you snap it around your waist, careful to keep it from tangling with your oxygen tube. He stands and clears his throat.

“This room works for you?” He asks.

You peer around then back at him.

“You’ll be here for a while so... I could grab you more blankets. A fan?”

You shake your head, “this is fine.”

He clicks his tongue and looks past you to the window, “I’m going to make some calls.”

“To the police? You said--”

“Not right now,” he shows his palms. “I’m just... I got work, still, and a few other things. Sweetheart,” he steps closer, “you just relax, okay? It’s been a long morning. And if you need anything, my office door will be open, alright?”

You scrunch up your lips and nod. It’s all you can do. You teeter around and sit on the side of the bed. You brace the oxygen tank to keep yourself upright.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“This is... normal for me,” you croak. “My mom’s right. I’m a burden. I’m too sick...”

“She’s not right,” he insists. “Lay down, sweetheart. Take it easy. I’ll be about an hour and then we can chat a bit more. There’s a lot to go through.”

You stay as you are. You wait. He lingers before he finally strides out of the room. He leaves the door open as you sniffle at your lap. What does he mean? A lot to go through?

Oh, this is bad. You’re so lost. What do you do? You’re not Andy’s responsibility. If you do go back to your mom, she’s going to be so mad. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You wipe your nose and gulp. Why do you have to be so worthless?

🩶

You can’t remember when you slumped onto your side. It doesn’t really matter. Most days you spend like that; dizzy, tired, and sick to your stomach. That day is worse.

You want to be home. Not with your mother, just in your room, with your figurines and your books. With the familiar. You stare at the wall as you listen to the airiness of the strange house. Cars pass with soft swishing noises and a few voices come from the suburban scene outside.

Andy’s footsteps precede him up the stairs. You see his shadow as he approaches the guest room and you make yourself sit up. What you don’t expect, is the other set of steps or another figure. You bounce slightly, expecting your mother, but finding only a stranger. A man.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Andy asks.

You stare at the man then grimace at Andy. He stands just inside the door as the other man lingers at his shoulder.

“You said you wouldn’t call the cops,” you squeak.

“Oh,” Andy looks at the other man who gives a grin. “He’s not--”

“Hi,” the man says your name. “I’m Dr. Kemp. A friend of Andy’s.”

Your eyes flick between them. “It’s just a bruise.” You cover your forearm where the tenderness thrums.

“A bruise?” He repeats. “I can look at that too, but I’m just here for a check-up.”

“A check-up? I have a doctor. I have doctors,” you argue.

“He’s just making sure everything is normal, sweetheart,” Andy says.

“I could’ve called Dr. Hawes.”

“You could but I don’t think he’d be able to see you at short notice, this is just a precaution.” Andy explains.

“I’ll be quick, okay?” Dr. Kemp says as he nears and puts his leather bag next to you. “We’ll do the standard run through, alright?”

You pout and shrug, “okay. I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay.” He assures you, “now, I don’t have your records so just a few questions.”

You nod and your eyes drift to the wall. Questions. There's always questions. You answer the same ones over and over. It’s just like when you had to sit in court.

“So, I see you’re on oxygen,” he begins, “is that something you need all the time or is it just now and then?”

“Always,” you answer.

“Alright, and have you been diagnosed with a specific condition that requires it?”

“Several. Cystic fibrosis, asthma, other things...”

“Hm, okay, you’re doing good. I know the questions can get annoying,” he says. “Do you have dizziness?” You nod. “Nausea?” Another nod. “Muscle spasms? Chest pains?” Yes and yes.

“Even with the tank?” He prompts.

“Yes, sir,” you reply bluntly.

“Right, let’s listen to your heart.”

He unzips the bag and takes out a stethoscope. You stand up stiffly as he comes closer. He points to the bottom of your shirt. “You mind?” You shake your head and he tugs it up, slipping his arm beneath. You blanch as your eyes meet Andy. You almost forgot about him.

Kemp puts the cold stethoscope on your chest. He moves it around. Across the top, then beneath, closer to your lungs. He listens intently. He hums and removes it, fixing your shirt for you.

He then starts with the other tests; temperature, blood pressure, eye response. He gives a thoughtful look then crosses his arms. He considers you for a moment.

“I want you to try something for me, okay?”

You nod once more.

“I need you to take off your oxygen.”

“What?” You yelp.

“Just for a few minutes, alright? I’m a doctor, right? You’ll be okay.”

You bat your lashes and glance at Andy again. He dips his chin. He watches intently. You look at the floor and unhook the tub from around your ears. You drag it off your nose and let it hang.

“Alright, how are you feeling?” Kemp asks.

You shrug. He just stands there. You do too. You sway slightly, confused.

“You having any issues?” He intones.

You shake your head.

“Alright, just a small test. Hold your breath for me,” he bends his arm and looks at his wrist watch, “we’re going to see how long you can do it. Tell me when you stop.” He pinches the small golden face, “three, two, one.”

You hold your breath as your eyes widen. Your lungs are full but not horribly so. You search the room in a panic. What if you pass out? Your panic rises and makes you itch but you keep your breath in. He waits and waits and waits.

You let it out suddenly, “I can’t--” you gasp. “See, I can’t.”

“A minute forty-seven,” he taps his watch, “pretty standard. Definitely pretty good for someone with bad lungs.”

“A minute... no, it wasn’t that long. Was it?”

Andy shifts as his jaw squares. His brows furrow. He looks angry. Kemp peeks back at him and turns back to you.

“I’m going to review your records. I’ll put a call in to Hawes.”

“Why?” You ask.

“Just to make sure I’m getting a full picture. Right now, you’re doing just fine. I’d say you’re doing rather well,” he squeezes your shoulder. “What I want you to do is to take it easy on this.” He touches the oxygen tube. “If you feel out of breath, by all means, put it on, five to ten minutes, but not 24/7.”

“But I need it,” you whimper.

“I know you feel like you do, but I’m the doctor, right? I understand you have a lot going on but your lungs aren’t bad enough to warrant constant oxygen. I’ll be back tomorrow once I get the chart,” he says. “Andy has my number.”

Your lip quivers. You don’t understand. You need the air. That’s what mom says. And when you forget to put it back on, she gets so mad.

“You having trouble right now?” He asks.

You stare at him and take a breath, and another, and another. “No,” you answer.

“There ya go. You got Andy. He'll keep an eye on you,” he packs away his bag.

“Thanks, Steve,” Andy says as he holds out his hand.

“We’re even,” Kemp shakes his hand then looks back at you, “see ya tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay, sir,” you eke out.

He leaves and Andy gives you a nod before he follows. You listen as they go downstairs. You sit on the bed and clasp your oxygen tube in your hands. You look at the tank and frown.

It doesn’t make sense. You don’t feel like you’re struggling. You feel like you’re breathing better, actually. It’s strange. Maybe it’s the adrenaline.

Andy returns and you push your shoulders back. He enters tentatively, “well?”

“I won’t...” you reach over and turn the dial to cut the supply. “It’s off.”

“Maybe he can help. More than the other doctors,” Andy says. “Er, you know, you don’t have to hide up here. I’m done for the day so I’m free and uh, if you’re hungry, we can order?”

“Not right now,” you say and hang your head.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot,” he says. “You got time, sweetheart. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here, okay?”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #compos mentis #defending jacob

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giannaln4 · 7 months ago

Text

Sick

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Your sickness got in the way of a romantic day Lando had planned for the both of you, but to him, making you feel better was way more important than anything. (3.1k words)

warnings: stablished relationship, sick!reader, mentions of throw up, extremely cheesy, fluff

a/n: i was supposed to post this last week when the request was made, i'm sorry it took me so long anon but i hope you like it! also i did make it a little longer and more dramatic than i had to. also this is the first request i post!! i have one more but please keep sending more ideas, i love reading what you have in mind

check out the original request here!

-> Prequel

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

Lando had been sick last week, and you did everything to take good care of him, as much as you could. You carried medications with you, made sure he drank enough water, and gave him tea to help him feel better. You even cuddled him every night to help him sleep.

He was extremely grateful that you made sure to take good care of him. Having to give everything on track sure made it a little difficult, but he did get better eventually, and he said it was thanks to you.

What you never considered, though, was the fact that his sickness would get to you, but the next week, you felt it, and it was even more evident the night after the Austrian Grand Prix.

For some reason, it hit you harder, and the fact that you had been travelling so much didn’t help. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for days until the sickness went away, but Lando had other plans. With how busy he usually is, he always makes you his priority when he’s away from the track, so before going to bed, he shared the plans he had for the next day, including some activities that required you to get ready and leave the comfort of your home.

You both valued your time together, and you could tell how excited he was to take you out and spend the day with you, something that would also help him to take his mind off the events that took place that weekend, so you said yes.

The next morning, you felt him leave the bed, kissing your forehead goodbye as you turned around to face him.

“I have a little something to do before our date, but you can meet me at the restaurant so we can have breakfast together, yeah?” He whispered. You just nodded, and he kissed you again, whispering a little ‘I love you’ before leaving your room.

You went back to sleep as soon as he left, but the sound of your alarm woke you up an hour later. You grunted as you turned it off, looking at the time, knowing you had to start getting ready if you wanted to make it on time for your date, but your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t even leave the bed.

Your current state was unfortunate, to say the least. A pounding headache, a runny nose, a sore throat, constant sweating, and intense body pain. There was no way you could go out.

It broke your heart to have to cancel your day with Lando, but you knew your body couldn’t take it and that he would understand.

Before notifying your boyfriend that you wouldn't make it, you looked up your symptoms to make sure you didn’t need to seek medical attention. The last thing you wanted was to end up at the hospital; you never liked them. You quickly came to the conclusion that it was a simple cold. You should’ve seen it coming; not only did you take care of Lando while he was sick, but you hadn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days and brushed it off, thinking you were just tired.

You sent him a long text explaining that you were sick and apologising a million times for cancelling the romantic day he had planned, feeling terrible for failing him.

You fell back asleep almost immediately, but sadly, not for long. Your body temperature suddenly dropped, making you shiver, so you brought up every blanket and tried to cover your entire body with them, but stopped when you suddenly felt hot again.

You were sure you had never been this sick; you were uncomfortable, your throat was incredibly dry, and your whole body was sticky from sweat. It even hurt to sneeze. You let out a loud moan in discomfort, and a few seconds later, you heard the door open.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake, and I didn’t wanna bother you,” Lando said softly, entering the room. He was holding a few blankets and pillows that covered his face, but you knew he had a worried look on his face. You covered yourself again, up to your head; you didn’t want him to see you like this, not when your hair was an absolute mess and your sleeping shirt looked like you took a shower in it.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had something to do,” you asked under the blankets.

His eyes softened when they hit the lump on the bed as he placed the stuff by your feet. “Don’t worry about that; I’m done for the day.” He approached you and kneeled next to you. “Hey, how bad is it?”

“It’s bad. I don’t wanna get you sick again,” you replied, your throat hurting every time you spoke.

“You’ll be happy to know that I don’t care.” He joked, but you remained silent. “I assume you didn’t have any breakfast yet.”

“No”

"Well, I bought you some soup. You should eat it while it’s still hot, it will be good for you.” He stared at the blankets, waiting for you to come out or at least say something "Baby, come on, let me see you.”

You appreciated him being there to take care of you; it truly warmed your heart, and all you wanted to do was show him how thankful you were, but what if he got sick again because of you? What if you look so bad right now that he will break up with you on the spot? “I don’t look good,” you finally muttered.

“What?” He chuckled, thinking you were joking.

“I’m sweating an insane amount; I can feel my hair sticking to my face.”

“Let me braid your hair so you feel less sticky on the face. I promise you’ll feel better.”

You thought about it for a moment and figured he wouldn’t leave even if you directly asked him to, so you uncovered your face slowly and shyly looked at him. “I feel really ill.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything. My entire body, the headache is terrible, and I get really cold, but after a second, I feel like I’m boiling.”

He touched your forehead as soon as he noticed your blushed face. “Baby, you’re really hot.”

“I know that,” you joked with a smirk on your face.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his laughter. “Good to know your sense of humour remains untouched.” He stood up and left the room, coming back in a heartbeat as he held a bowl of soup. “You’re gonna eat your soup while I braid your hair and I promise it will make you feel at least a little bit better.”

“My hair is all covered in sweat, though.” You sat on the bed, waiting for him to give you the soup.

“That’s okay. It’s hot, so please be careful.” You carefully took the bowl from his large hands, and you could see the steam that came off of it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes avoiding his as you blew on the hot liquid.

“You might feel hotter for a moment, but this is good; you need a lot of fluids. Now, I’m gonna sit behind you, okay?” You nodded, making enough space for him.

He struggled a little to get behind you, moving softly so he didn’t make you spill any of the soup. “Are you comfortable?” He asked when he finally settled.

“Yes”

“Ok, should I do one or two?” He started brushing your hair. You were right; you were sweating a lot, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to take proper care of his girlfriend, just like you did when he was sick.

“Two”

“Okay. They might not turn out the best, though. I’m not a great hairstylist, but they will help.” You chuckled, knowing he was right, but that was the least of your worries.

You stayed like that for a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to put two braids on you without pulling your hair or making your headache worse. "Done,” he said, getting back on his feet and taking a good look at how you looked with braided hair. His heartbeats began to increase. “You look really cute,” he said as he tilted his head, admiring you.

Your face was burning, and it wasn’t the fever. “Thank you. I actually do feel much better.” And you did; you were surprised at how lighter your head felt without all that hair resting on your face or shoulders.

“See? I told you.” He then kissed his fingertip and tapped your nose with it, making you melt at his touch ”Finish your soup. I’m gonna see if we still have that humidifier.”

He stepped out of the room once again, leaving you alone. Somehow, you already felt better, even though everything hurt the same. But you had to admit that the hot soup was a good call.

Once you were done with it, you laid back down carefully, not wanting to ruin the freshly styled hair. And only a few minutes later, you heard the door again, “No luck with the humidifier, but this will help too.” You paid attention to his hands. He was holding a bucket and a dry cloth in one hand and a bottle of water and some pills in the other. “Just this one last thing, and I’ll let you go back to sleep,” he said, as if he was bothering you; you didn’t feel like he was. If anything, it was the other way around, and you should be the one apologising. He put down the bucket next to the bed and waited for you to sit again, this time paying attention to your damp shirt. “Why don’t you change into some new clothes?”

You looked down at your shirt and felt embarrassed when you noticed how much it looked like you had been drowned in a rainstorm. It didn’t look that bad before, but it must’ve been the hot liquids. “Okay,” you agreed, about to get up, but he stopped you.

He wandered around your shared room, grabbing clean clothes that he believed would be comfortable for you to wear. He didn’t want you to feel too hot or too cold again, so he went for a happy medium. A shirt and underwear. You probably shouldn’t deal with too many layers anyway. “Here, I’ll help you change.”

He helped you with everything, which you were really thankful for since your body was too weak and in pain to do it by yourself. Tossing the dirty clothes somewhere in the room, he proceeded to grab the pillows he had previously set on the bed and started arranging them around you to make your uncomfortable state a little more pleasant.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, looking down at you, and you nodded in response, “Sure?”

"Positive.” Even your voice was weak.

After you were settled, he grabbed the pills and handed them to you, going for the water bottle next “This is for your headache.” He waited for you to take them and watched you get comfortable again. He then reached into the bucket and completely submerged the cloth, making sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. He stroked it over your face a few times. “You’re all good now. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

You looked up at him in pure admiration, “Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me,” you rasped out.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my sick girlfriend?” You could swear you had literal heart eyes right now. “You took care of me when I was sick, and I´m pretty sure this is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, but you should probably get out of here. I don’t wanna get you sick again, your home race is next.”

He shook his head and sat on the chair that was a few feet away from the bed. “What if you need something and I’m not here?”

You smiled at him again, but suddenly remembered what you were supposed to be doing. He must’ve noticed the change in your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling next to you again as his hand rested on your cheek.

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For ruining our date.”

“Darling, we have a lifetime ahead of us. We have plenty of time to go on dates.”

Those words made you feel a million things at the same time, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he replied, his smile so big and sincere that his dimples made an appearance. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”

You went back to sleep, and luckily this time you managed to rest for hours. In the meantime, Lando stayed on the bed next to you, doing some work to stay busy and awake, while he kept an eye on you in case you needed him.

The hours went by, and your fever went away, finally. You woke up around 4 PM, slowly opening your eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness.

You scanned the room looking for Lando, but he was nowhere to be found. You figured it made sense that he left. You didn’t really expect him to stay there all day and waste his free day just to be with you.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You groaned in pain and fell on your back again, strangely still feeling tired even after sleeping for hours. Before you could try again, Lando was entering the room.

“You came back,” you managed to say.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting you some tea.” He approached you and touched your forehead, relieved that you weren’t hot anymore. “How are you feeling?”

"Better,” you replied, not so sure you wanted him to get worried. “I guess my throat still hurts.”

“I figured, but this honey and lemon tea will help with that.” He smiled at you but when you didn’t move, he could feel the worry come back to him “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like tea.”

“Tell your cold that.” You pouted like a little kid, but Lando’s face remained neutral as he waited for you to take the cup. “I know you don’t like tea, but I promise this will help. Besides, weren’t you giving me tea all the time when I was sick?”

You gave in and took it, knowing he was right, and honestly, you would do anything to ease your sore throat.

You started drinking it, slowly but surely. It didn’t taste as bad as you remembered, and you started wondering if your mom was just bad at making tea. “Would you cuddle with me? If it’s not too gross.” You asked out of nowhere.

“Gross? Why-?”

“Because I have been sweating a lot, and it’s not like I took a shower yet,” you explained, a little embarrassed.

“Were you grossed out when I was the sick one asking for cuddles?”

You answered immediately, “No, but you weren’t this sick.”

“C’mon, don’t be silly.” He was happy you wanted to cuddle. Since he got there in the morning, he was concerned that you just wanted him out of there. Carefully, he got in bed with you, sitting against the headboard and getting into a comfortable position. He waited for you to lay down and nestled you between his legs, with your back against his front.

“Thank you for staying with me. I feel much better with you.”

“Really? Because for a moment there, it felt like you didn’t want me here.”

“I do, I really do. I just-” You stopped for a moment to think about your words “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Y/N, you know I would never think that.” He was brushing your check.

“Still, you wasted your free day and stayed here all day… for me. We couldn’t even go out like you wanted to.” You then felt guilty about your realisation. “Did you eat something today?”

“I did; I ordered something while you slept. I wanted to get some lunch for you too, but I wasn't sure for how long you’d be asleep. Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “I’m still tired.”

Lando had been sick before, and he knew it was exhausting to deal with it, but he doesn’t remember a cold taking him down like that. Still, he agreed to stay there with you while you went to sleep. Again.

A while went by, and he didn’t notice when you started to drift off, but when he felt you shivering on top of him, he opened his eyes quickly.

You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering, but your skin was so hot that he could melt chocolate on your forehead. He knew that your fever coming back and your temperature going up so quickly were bad signs.

“Y/N?” He whispered, softly moving you, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mhm?” You hummed. You were holding the blanket tighter and closer to your body.

“How are you feeling?” He kept a low voice, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“I’m freezing.” He was about to embrace you again, but was interrupted when you abruptly sat on the bed. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He followed your actions and reached down for the bucket that was still next to the bed and placed it between your legs. ‘Not good,’ he kept thinking, rubbing your back for comfort “If that’s the case, then you’re worse than I thought, sweetheart; we might have to go to the doctor.” You didn’t like the seriousness of his voice.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“Well, I don’t care whether you like it or not; your fever is coming back and you’re feeling nauseous. I don’t think that’s normal for a cold. You are literally shaking.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep a little more.”

“I know you don’t want to, but we really need to see a doctor.” You didn’t say anything, hoping he would just forget about that, but of course he wouldn’t. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” You stayed silent. “Come on, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, and I promise you’ll feel better, okay?” You nodded. You knew he was taking care of you, good care of you, but anything related to sickness, doctors, or hospitals scared you for some reason. “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe with me. I promise,” he said, raising his pinky in front of you, satisfied when you locked it with your own.

#giannaln4 writes #lando norris #ln4 #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren #mclaren f1

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. chapter nine. chapter ten. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 4.8k

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.

“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”

You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.

“…Why? How?”

She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.

“You’re miserable.”

You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not you-”

“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I do.”

She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.

You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.

So, you do.

"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"

She nods, squeezing your hand.

"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”

You inhale.

Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.

You exhale.

“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"

You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.

“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”

The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.

“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”

You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.

“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”

She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.

“So a soulmate, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”

“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”

Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.

“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”

“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”

Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”

“He… doesn’t know.”

“What?”

“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”

It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”

“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”

You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.

“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.

“For what?” you laugh.

“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.

“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”

You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.

“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”

“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.

“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You show up at your parents house without warning.

You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.

Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.

“Babygirl!”

She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.

“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.

“Yeah, Mama. I am.”

She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.

“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”

You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.

“Nice moves, Casanova.”

He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.

“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”

He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.

“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.

She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.

“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”

“My favourite.”

You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.

“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”

“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”

You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.

They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”

“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“So this means you’re moving home?”

You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”

“You didn’t?”

“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”

“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.

“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”

When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.

“What are you thinking, Mama?”

“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect.”

And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.

You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.

Bucky.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.

“Hi, honey baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.

“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”

“From a mile off.”

He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.

“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”

“There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Good.”

He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.

“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”

He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.

“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”

“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”

“I make you nervous, huh?”

The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”

He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.

“You’re letting your hair grow.”

“You like it long.”

You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.

“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”

“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”

“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”

He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.

“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the boss, baby.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”

“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”

“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”

Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.

He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.

He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“Just want you.”

“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”

“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”

He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?

“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.

Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.

You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.

“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”

Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.

He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.

He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.

“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”

Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.

“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”

You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.

“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.

He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.

You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.

“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”

“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”

“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.

You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.

You’ve never known happiness like it.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The day flies by with Bucky by your side.

You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.

“You almost ready, honey?”

“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”

You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.

You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.

“You alright, handsome?”

“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”

Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.

Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.

You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.

“We need to go.”

Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.

“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Your Mom has done it again.

Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.

“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”

Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.

“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”

“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”

“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.

“Your father says you’re moving back home.”

You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.

“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”

She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.

“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”

You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.

“I saw you today, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”

You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.

Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.

“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”

You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.

“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”

She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.

“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”

“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”

You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.

On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.

There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.

“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.

You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.

The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.

You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.

Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.

You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.

“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”

“She’s a fucking nuisance.”

You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”

He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“So we tell them.”

You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.

“We should do it as soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow?”

You nod, biting your glossy lips.

“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”

You smile gently.

“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”

“You and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me against the world, Buck.”

It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.

tag list part one

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fictoculus · 10 months ago

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Hi, how are you? If it's not too much trouble, could I ask for some jealous Tighnari headcanons? please and thank you <33

౨ৎ "is everything alright, dear?"

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... tighnari

SYNOPSIS... someone hits on you, how will he react?

A/N... hi anon, thanks so much for the request! i'm doing good tyyy, i hope you are too ^^ i sorta got carried away writing this, nd it ended up to be more of "someone hits on you" than jealousy hcs... i hope it's still enjoyable though and i apologise that it isn't reallyyy what you asked for ♡

♪ your boyfriend, tighnari, watches from afar as you engage in idle chit-chat with your fellow scholars, resisting the burning desire to pull you away from them all and keep you in his little world, in which you are the earth and he is the moon.

♪ he often tells you how his life revolves around you, how he sees you wherever he goes whether you're actually there or not, and it never fails to fluster you. of course, you tell him how yours revolves around him also, calming his anxieties as he relishes in your words.

♪ that being said, the second someone tries hitting on you, he loses it. yes, tighnari is a big softie at heart, but being a forest ranger means he has some level of authority, and he will use this to his advantage when confronting your pursuer. you were his after all, and he was equally yours.

♪ this isn't the first time someone has approached you, looking you up and down with wide eyes and shooting a smile in your direction. of course, you send one back their way, but only to be polite, not to evoke further flirting. this is where tighnari steps in.

♪ the soft tickle of his tail brings a wave of relief as your step back into his touch, your pounding heart settling at the sound of his voice

"is everything alright, dear?"

♪ it's rare that he uses pet names with you, and so you blush slightly as the endearment slips from his lips.

"y'know this guy?"

"well, this language is rather improper. what, are you trying to scare them off?"

♪ he scoffs, taking the liberty to step in front of you and hover a hand above your torso, all while holding firm eye contact with his 'opponent'.

"excuse us, my partner and i have places to be"

♪ your not-at-all-secret admirer is left dumbfounded as tighnari takes your hand in his, hastily leading you away from the hustle and bustle. the two of you swerve to the right into a quiet corridor where he takes a moment to check you over.

"are you alright?"

♪ you assure him you're unhurt, both mentally and physically, before thanking him for intervening; planting a loving kiss on the corner of his mouth and another on the tip of his nose.

♪ only when he's fully convinced that you're unscathed do the two of you head for the exit, leaving the leftover errands for tomorrow after the unexpected turn of events.

♪ even after you arrive home, tighnari refuses to let you out of his sight, whining whenever you pull away from him or leave to grab a glass of water (stay hydrated!)

"i'll only be a minute"

"that's what you said earlier, then that idiot came and harassed you!"

"he wasn't harassing me, love. archons, 'this language is rather improper'-"

smack!

♪ the plush of a cushion collides with your cheek, interrupting your teasing as tighnari scurries away; whether it was out of fear or playfulness you will never know.

♪ either way, the two of you spend the rest of the evening chasing after each other, starting with 2 plump pillows and ending with empty cases, your hair tangled and covered in fluff and feathers.

♪ it's almost comical how something that was so serious in the moment becomes somewhat of a joke, but that's just the way your relationship works, and as long as he knows you're alright, tighnari thinks it's just fine...

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa apply here

#tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #tighnari hcs #tighnari fluff #tighnari angst #tighnari comfort #jealous #gn reader #tighnari x you #genshin taglist #genshin fluff #genshin hcs

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irwinsblender · 6 months ago

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hiii could i request a luke x fem reader where reader has pots and its a bad day for her but shes on tour with the boys so she has to do her best to stay well? luke begs her to take breaks but she’s their hair or makeup artist and physically cant take a break until the show is over 😭 so basically just some cute fluff of luke fussing over his sick and dizzy gf :)) i have pots and i never get to read this sort of stuff so it would be great to have some rep written ^^

hi!! thank you so much for sending this in! again apologising for taking so long to get to this request but hopefully this fic turns out okay!

—

take it easy

pairing: luke x reader

summary: you’ve been travelling around with your boyfriend, luke, on the bands tour doing their hair and make up here and there while also trying to manage your pots symptoms within their busy schedules

warnings: none?

word count: 3.7k

✩ ✩ ✩

Getting to go on tour with your boyfriend, Luke, and his band had always been one of your favourite things to experience. It was heartwarming to see him and your friends up on that stage, enjoying every second of performing. Living out their dream.

Luke loved you being there, never having to spend a minutes away from you for the long times they tour for. He loved that you got to to watch them every night.

Not only were you there to watch the shows, but you were a qualified hair stylist along with knowing your fair share about make up.

You helped the guys get ready before their shows each night, making sure their hair looked good by using hairspray and sometimes hair gel. If it was a lucky day you wouldn’t have to use either.

Luke was the only one who you did make up for, although you knew he was capable of doing a good job on his own, he always insisted that you do it for him.

One thing that came along with travelling for a tour was busy schedules, late nights and early mornings, rushing around if things didn’t quite run on time or having to suddenly change plans. It was a lot to deal with for you.

Especially with what you have to deal with in your day to day life.

You had been dealing with pots for quite a few years now, the not being able to sleep properly, the headaches, other aches and pains, having to take it easy if you were feeling dizzy to ensure you didn’t pass out. it was difficult.

Luke was always there to make sure you were okay. Sometimes he knew before you did that you would have a bad flare up, making sure you rested properly and didn’t overdo it.

Some days were better than others, you could get up like normal, go about your day with the band, easily do their hair and make up without any issues. Other days, you knew a bad flare up was coming before even starting the day, knowing you’d have to try and compromise to still help out.

Today was one of those days.

You had to sleep on the bus after a show last night to travel to the next tour stop. Sleeping in the tiny bunks where there was hardly enough room to move had never been your idea of a comfortable nights sleep. And so, you didn’t get nearly enough sleep.

As soon as you woke up, you could feel the throbbing pain in your head, a bad headache that would surely last a while. Knowing that would add to any other symptoms you may get.

You could hear the guys on the bus, chatting away to one another, talking about the previous show as well as plans for tonight’s show too.

Having to get out of bed was the hardest part, not knowing exactly how bad things would be. Would you be okay to move around like normal? Or would you need to lay down to take breaks?

Standing up from your bunk felt okay. You didn’t feel too unbalanced apart from your worsening headache. It was only once you stood fully upright that you knew things were bad.

Losing your balance before you could get far, Luke rushed over to you as quick as he could, holding onto you to make sure you didn’t fall.

He brought you over to the front of the bus, getting you to sit down with ashton while he got you a water and painkillers to help with your headache. He sat with you after that, making sure you recovered from being dizzy before letting you get ready for the day.

After you tried to convince him that you felt okay, he let you do what you needed to do. Going into the bathroom and closing the door behind you to freshen up.

You did as you always would do, washing your face, brushing your teeth, everything you usually did before heading to the back of the tour bus to get dressed.

You took longer than normal today, understandably of course. By the time you were ready, things were running slightly behind schedule.

There was still enough time though. You and the guys left the tour bus, heading into the back entrance of the venue away from where any fans were lining up for the show.

Inside, you were lead through a main area, through a backstage door which took you to the dressing rooms and where all of the equipment was.

In the first dressing room, you all got settled. The guys spreading themselves out around the room, taking drinks from the mini fridge, talking about things for the show tonight, discussing what songs to sing for soundcheck after their own.

It didn’t take long for them to have to go and do their private soundcheck. Which you opted to stay behind for.

It was the same once the time came around for the vip soundcheck, you stayed behind in the dressing room.

You told Luke it was purely to rest up, try and re settle yourself before having to be standing up for a while doing all of their hair and make up. He believed you, but in reality you still weren’t feeling quite like yourself.

While you could hear the soundcheck happening, you moved yourself to the counter where the mirror was. Setting up your hair products and any make up Luke might want to choose from.

Doing all of this, you were sitting on a chair in front of the counter and mirrors. Hair spray bottle and gel pot to the left, along with a hair brush and comb. Your make up was in a box, some concealer, beauty blenders, brushes along with a few palettes of eyeshadow and finally eyeliner.

It was easy to know when the band was done with soundcheck, their loud voices and laughs echoing through the hall.

They burst into the room, seeing you had moved. Calum plopped himself down on the sofa, resting his feet on the coffee table. Michael joined him, scrolling on his phone. Ashton let everyone know he was going to the bathroom, which left Luke who came over to you.

“Hi, lovie,” he wrapped his arms around the top of your shoulders, leaning his head atop yours as he looked at you though the mirror.

“Hey, rockstar,” you shuffled slightly, leaning to look up at luke. “How’d it go?”

“Went great,” Luke smiled excitedly. “We played an extra song that the fans were chanting for, just about remembered the lyrics. right, Cal?”

“Hey!” calum complained from his comfortable position on the couch. “I’m not the one who forgot the fuckin’ guitar chords.”

“We haven’t played the song since, I don’t know, four tours ago?” Michael smacked calum’s arm.

“Well I’m sure they loved it anyway,” you shook your head at the bickering pair.

Luke stepped back from you, knowing this was about time to start sorting things out. You stood from your chair, maybe slightly too quickly.

You had been sitting down for a while and should’ve taken more time to be up right again. You gripped onto the counter, keeping yourself balanced.

“Babe—“

“I’m fine,” you held one hand out to stop him. “Just give me a second.”

It was quiet in the room then. Michael and Calum paying attention to what was going on.

You needed to get yourself together, you had a show to prepare for. Four band members sort out. You could last a few more hours.

You turned towards the two on the couch, leaning back against the counter, “Who’s first?” You pointed to the chair beside you. “Hair first, any make up last.”

“Are you sure you’re up for doing this?” Luke quietly spoke, letting Michael and Calum decide who would go first. “You can take a night off, it’s alright.”

“You’ve got a show to be ready for,” you stepped back, Luke following to let Calum have space to take a seat. “This is my job here, gotta make sure you four are looking your best for the fans.”

“And you offered to do this job for us, it’s okay if you’re having a flare up and need to take a break for tonight.”

You moved to stand behind calum, fluffing his hair from side to side, “Don’t think you’d be able to tame this mop without me,” you laughed, covering up how groggy you were feeling. “Go change into whatever you’re gonna wear for the show, I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t—“

“Baby, i’ll be okay.”

He reluctantly nodded. Wanting to pull you in for a hug before letting you get to work on Calum’s hair. You let him, wrapping your arms around his back as you felt him rubbing his hands up and down yours.

“Don’t rush anything,” he pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek. “Take your time.”

“I will,” you smiled softly, understanding his worry for you. “Now you should rest until your show, don’t need you getting tired out on stage.”

“Here you are not feeling good and you’re still worrying about little ol’ me,” Luke stepped back from you, making his way over to the snack bar.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you at the same time, Lu,” you raised your eyebrows at him.

He picked up a packet of chips, sitting down next to Michael on the black fabric sofa. You turned your focus to Calum, picking up the hair spray and a comb.

You started fixing up his hair so it looked more tamed than his usual messy, curly hair. Not that his hair didn’t look great, it’s just easier to handle on stage with some spray in.

After a little bit of time, it was finished, “How’s that?” You asked him, making sure there wasn’t anything else he wanted you to do.

“Looks perfect to me,” he smiled at you in the mirror.

At the same time, Ashton walked back into the dressing room, seeing where they were at with things. Noticing Calum getting up, he took it upon himself to decide it was his turn.

“Hey,” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “What are we doing today?”

“Getting you a fuckin’ chair, that’s what,” Ashton turned to look around the room. “Why is there only one chair?”

“Ash, I’m all good,” you moved beside him, placing the hairspray and gel there. “Which one.”

He looked up at you, taking a breath. Pointing to the gel. You opened up the pot, reaching for the spray bottle before doing anything.

“Gonna go fill this up,” you started walking towards the door of the dressing room when a wave of dizziness washed over you.

You took a few oddly placed steps as you stumbled to the side, squeezing your eyes shut as you braced yourself against the wall nearest to you.

Luke stood abruptly, heavy footsteps pacing over to you. He stepped behind you, arms wrapped around your front to help you stay standing without having to hold yourself up using the wall.

You leaned your head back against Luke’s chest, taking a deep breath to try and settle your vision and your heart that seemed to be starting to race.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Luke soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You need to take it easy, come and sit down, just relax for a bit.”

“But, I’ve only done Calum’s hair,” you weakly replied.

“It’s okay, we can handle things for tonight,” Luke reassured you, starting to slowly walk you over to the sofa.

You made sure to open your eyes again once you felt where he was taking you, grasping onto his arms around you to keep yourself steady.

He cautiously lowered you to sit down before he sat too, placing his hands on your shoulders to guide you to lay with your head in his lap.

Luke took hold of your right hand, placing two fingers against the pulse point in your wrist. You stayed quiet while he did so, allowing him to do as he always did when he wanted to make sure you would be okay.

“Can someone get me some ice water?” Luke asked, looking to ashton who had been standing since you became dizzy, Michael was with Calum behind the couch.

“I’ll go find some ice,” Michael walked to the door, leaving right away.

Luke was still feeling your pulse, so you shuffled, laying so you could look up at him from a better angle. He gave a sympathetic smile which you returned.

“Feel any better now you’re lying down?” He asked.

“Kinda,” you said as Ashton appeared in your sight. “Ash, I could probably do your hair if you sit down—“

“I think you’re done for the night,” Luke interrupted. “I’m putting you on strict bed rest.”

You chuckled at his phrasing. Only talking like that because you’re meant to follow doctors orders. You knew he was just worried and trying to look out for you.

“You know too much bed rest will make things worse, Lu,” you reminded, trying to sit yourself up slightly. “Seriously, I can do more from here.”

“Y/n.”

Calum chuckled from across the room, “you know she won’t rest for a second until we’re all ready, mate,” he stuffed a piece of chocolate from the counter into his mouth. “How about a compromise.”

You squinted your eyes at him, now leaning against Luke’s shoulder to sit more straight. Moving slowly of course.

“I’m listening.”

He walked over, stopping short of the table in front of the couch, “If you keep doing our hair and make up now,” he started. “You have to take the day off tomorrow, get some extra rest.”

“There’s a show tomorrow night though, Cal.”

“But we’re up in a hotel tonight,” he widened his eyes. “Means comfier sleep, a nice bed to get a lay in that you probably haven’t had for at least a week.”

He did have a point. You loved doing this for the guys, you’ve practically done it since Luke introduced you to them; they all see what flare ups are like and know when to you should stop pushing your limits.

“He has a point,” Michael appeared from the hall, ice water in hand.

“We could all use more rest tomorrow,” Ashton agreed too. “Some more than others.”

Referring to you as he finished talking. Luke reached to brush your hair behind your ears, knowing by the look on your face you were considering this.

“I think you should, lovie,” Luke holds your hand in his, linking your fingers together softly. “We still have a lot of shows to come so you need to get all the rest you can.”

“Okay…” you sighed in defeat. “I’ll take the night off tomorrow.”

“I know you don’t want to,” Luke could sense you didn’t really want to. “But you especially need it, alright?”

You nodded at him. Managing to lean over towards him to peck his lips softly in thanks for looking out for you so well.

Next you were looking at Ashton, pointing to the floor in front of you for him to sit down. You would finish his hair like this, then Michael’s and Luke’s. You would make this work for them, not wanting to let them down.

Before doing anything, you took the ice water from Michael, taking a few slow sips. Feeling the cool liquid was a refreshing feeling, hopefully it would help.

You got to work on Ashton’s hair, using the spray bottle of water along with a little bit of hair gel after to really form the curls on his head. It turned out pretty well.

Next Michael sat in front of you, not a lot needed doing to his. Just a little hair spray here and there before he was completely happy with it.

Luke was last, although you didn’t waste a second to tell him his hair always looked perfect anyways. The fluffy curls, hair grown longer down the back to almost form a mullet style was definitely something you loved.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked while Luke stayed beside you on the couch. “Hair spray? Gel?”

“Whatever you think is best.”

“Okay um…” you thought for a moment. “Can i do what i did to ash’s hair?”

Luke nodded, wanting to give you free range with this for once. He hoped it might cheer you up if he let you do your own thing.

He sat down on the floor in front of you, settling back against the couch. You ran your hands through his hair, it was just to untangle it, however, you did like running your fingers through his blonde curls.

You reached for the spray bottle, gathered a tiny amount of hair gel. Luke’s curls were one of your favourite things, especially making sure a few small ones hung around the front of his face.

“You can go check it looks okay,” you told him.

He got up, walking to the mirror, he looked around at it, quickly walking back to you.

“Looks great, baby,” he smiled, sitting with you again. “Make up now?”

“Yea, let me just get my palettes.”

You sat on the edge of the sofa, wanting to do this yourself. Luke placed his hand on your knee, giving you a look. Knowing this was always hard for you, you liked doing things for yourself. Not having your friends waiting hand and foot on what you needed.

Luke stood up, holding his hands out for you to take, “Gonna walk you over,” he explained. “If you get dizzy just tell me.”

You took his hands, your feet slowly padding across the carpet. Luke walked backwards, taking you over to the counter to collect your makeup supplies.

It was only when you were going back to where you had just been sat that you could feel your heart rate picking up again. A small pain forming in your chest.

“Need to sit back down,” you rushed, an uncomfortable but familiar look on your face.

“Ash, can you grab the make up from her?” Luke asked as he was the closest.

He took everything from your hands, letting luke quickly get you back on the couch to sit down. He watched as you took a breath, thinking about the show ahead of them.

You loved watching them perform, especially Luke. but he had to do the difficult thing, only looking out for your health. Knowing you might not be able to watch the show the same as you did most nights.

“Feel up to doing some make up?” He double checked, you responded with a nod. “Do something simple, maybe some inner corner glitter.”

Ashton handed you the concealer and eyeshadow along with a couple of brushes. Luke sat down next to you, facing you so you could get this make up on him. It appeared harder than you though at this angle.

“Here— just—“ Luke pulled you gently onto his lap, legs either side of his. His hands rested on your hips. “Gonna keep my hands on you in case you get dizzy again.”

“Yea, this is better.”

You leaned closer, placing a small amount of concealer around his eyes. Blending it into his natural skin tone before reaching for the eyeshadow.

You put some blueish glittery eyeshadow on your pinky finger, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger to keep his head steady.

As you started putting the make up on him, he couldn’t help but look at you. Admiring your features, the light freckles covering your cheeks, the pure concentration in your eyes as you tried to get this make up to look perfect.

He loved that you were here on tour with him, you got to experience each city together. Plus he could take care of you if you did have any trouble with your pots.

“I can feel you staring,” you leaned back to gather some more glitter for his other eye.

“Sorry,” he whispered, not wanting to distract from your concentration. “You’re just beautiful.”

You stopped what you were doing, smiling softly, “I appreciate you caring about me so much while we’re here,” you placed your hands on his face, caressing your thumbs back and forth. “I know I can be stubborn at times but it’s good to have you to tell me to just chill for a while.”

“Well, it’s something that stops you doing the things you wanna do, I get that you don’t wanna put things on hold all the time,” Luke sympathised with you. “But I love you a lot, and want what’s best for you.”

“I love you too, bubba,” you leaned forwards for a hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You’d stayed like that for a couple of minutes too long, hearing someone clearing their throat. You both looked over to your left, Calum holding a shirt and pants in his hands.

“I hate to ruin this nice moment,” he nodded over to Ashton who had apparently left the room to change into his stage outfit. “We don’t have long until we need to be ready.”

“Got it,” you understood. Quickly finishing up Luke’s make up so he could change too.

It wasn’t long after that before all of the guys had changed into their various stage outfits, earpieces attached carefully so to not get disconnected. Opener up on stage who would be done 30 minutes before their set.

While waiting for the guys, you’d been sitting and resting, deciding you could give standing up a try. You managed to follow your friends to the stage area, Luke slipping his hand into yours as you took your time with walking.

“We’ll be off in about an hour and thirty minutes,” luke told you, hands in his as you heard the final preshow song playing. “And there’s a chair out there if you wanna watch and feel dizzy at all, or it’s totally fine if you hang back in the dressing room.”

“You know i’ll be out there watching,” you stood on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek softly before they all got given the word to get ready. “Maybe not dancing as much this time but I’ll be out there.”

“You’ll be okay?” Luke asked once more as he had to step away to get his guitar adjusted.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassured. watching as the guys started heading towards the stage. “Go have a good show, rockstar.”

✩ ✩ ✩

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