#I was trying to make new gifs of it today but… that series is quite difficult…gifsbane

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 69

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,055ish

Summary: Your and Logan's relationship continues to progress.

Notes: Only three more chapters after this... I'm already crying... The next chapter is definitely going to be longer. There's going to be fluff and angst and it's going to set up the two different final chapters. HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

About a week later, you were finally feeling better and Logan brought date night to you in your living room. He had laid out a blanket on the floor with dinner set out on it. He was currently sitting against the couch with you leaning against him, sitting between his legs. The two of you were silent, enjoying the soft music Logan had playing in the background. Logan’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you to him as his head rested against yours, occasionally pressing kisses against it. 

Logan could tell that something was on your mind, the way you were tense against him and fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. But Logan wasn’t going to press you into speaking right now. He had a feeling that you’d tell him. He was simply trying to enjoy this moment: having you in his arms. Your skin wasn’t as cold as it had been since the incident, so he was going to take that as a win.

You leaned your head back onto Logan’s shoulder as your thoughts spiraled. You were getting sicker, quicker than you cared to admit. And you got a call today that only reminded you of how helpless you were.

“Lo?” You breathed out.

“Hm?” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I… I got a call today.”

“Yeah?”

“It was from my job… They fired me because I miss too many of my shifts.”

“What? They can’t do that.”

“They can. And they’re right… and, if we’re honest with ourselves, I’m only going to miss more.” Logan tried to ignore the reason why you would miss so many more shifts. “Laura and I going to have to find another place to live.”

“No.”

“Lo—“

“Not a chance. You cannot move. How am I supposed to help you if you’re not right here?”

“I can’t afford it, Lo. I’m sorry. It’s killing me to even think about moving. And I haven’t even told Laura yet. I don’t want her to quit school. She has to continue forward, despite everything with me.”

“What if… and hear me out, baby… what if I move in with you?”

“I can’t ask you—“

“You’re not. I’m making plenty for the rent and have saved a lot of money to help with Laura’s tuition as well. I can just sleep on the couch or I can still stay at Wade’s and just help out. Baby…” 

Logan leaned to the side and pulled your legs into you. He then carefully maneuvered you to face him. Your eyes met his gaze and you lost your breath. He was looking at you with just seriousness and love that it caught you off guard. His large, rough hand came up to cradle your face.

“Let me help you,” he whispered. “Please, baby, let me take care of you… while I can, for as long as I can.”

“Lo,” you breathed out. Your head was slowly moving closer to his, your eyes falling to his lips.

“Yeah, baby?”

You leaned in further but before you could actually pressed your lips against yours. Laura came walking into the apartment. You pushed yourself away from Logan, trying to hide the embarrassment showing on your face.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Laura exclaimed, taking in the scene. “I didn’t realize—“

“It’s fine,” you quickly said, gathering the dishes to clean up.

“No, it’s not,” grumbled Logan.

“I can just go over to Wade’s,” Laura tried.

“Moment’s ruined. How was work and school today, kid?”

“It was good. How was your day?”

“Could have been better.” He glanced over at where you were now in the kitchen, washing the dishes.

“Sorry,” Laura whispered.

Logan ignored her as he began cleaning up. He kept glancing over at you, thinking about how the two of you almost had kissed. He wasn’t all too happy with Laura interrupting their moment, but he knew that it wasn’t truly her fault. Logan was beginning to wish he kissed you months ago, but understood that going at your pace was the most important thing now.

Laura headed to her room, not wanting to ruin whatever was happening between you and Logan more than she already had. You and Logan cleaned up in silence.

“I should probably let you rest,” Logan said as he wiped his hands dry.

“Yeah, okay,” you mumbled.

The two of you walked to the door. You opened it but the two of you stood there, gazing at each other.

“Thanks for tonight,” you quietly thanked. “And thanks for your offer.”

“I’m serious, darlin’. Let me take care of things,” he repeated. “Let me do this while I still can.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Baby,” his hands came up to gently hold your face, “please stop thinking so negatively of yourself. It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“Sorry…” Your hands came up to grasp onto Logan’s wrists, rubbing your thumbs along his pulse points. “I can’t help it.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Then I’m gonna have to keep reminding you about how amazing and beautiful you are.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled, “Lo.”

“It’s all true, doll. Every word.”

“I’m so lucky that I have you, Lo… I’m so blessed.”

Logan smiled at your words before his eyes fell to your lips. Your eyes fell to his lips. You took a step closer, dropping your hands from Logan’s wrists to wrap around his waist. Logan leaned in closer and your eyes fluttered close.

“There you are, Peanut!” Wade exclaimed, coming out into the hall.

You bit your lip as you stepped away, letting go of Logan. His hands dropped to his sides, clenching into fists as his claws poked out.

“Fuck!” Logan muttered.

“I’m going to head to bed,” you said. “Goodnight, Wade. Goodnight, Lo.”

“Night, Buttercup!” Wade said as you slipped into your apartment and shut the door. “Anyway, I have something for you, Peanut.”

“What could you possibly have for me that you needed to interrupt us?” Logan was clearly frustrated, which did not phase Wade.

“Here!” Wade handed over a box.

“A watch? Are you fucking serious?”

“It’s a smart watch1 It will allow you to stop losing track of time and for all of us to get a hold of you easier.”

“I hate you.” 

Logan shoved the box into Wade’s chest and stomped into their apartment.

“Is this because you need to get laid?” Wade shouted, following after the man. “Because I can totally help—“ Wade was cut off when claws plunged into his head. “Ouch.”

~~~

Despite the poor timing for the gift giving, Logan still woke up the next day and put on the stupid smart watch. He went to work as usual and on the way home, picked up your favorite treat. When he came into your apartment, Logan wasn’t surprised to see Wade already there for dinner. What he was surprised about was that you and Wade were sitting at the table and Laura was working on dinner in the kitchen.

“Lo!” You greeted happily as he sauntered over to you.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “Got you something.”

“You didn’t need to, Lo.”

“Wanted to. Here.” He pulled out your favorite treat and handed it to you.

“I was just craving these! You must be a mindreader.”

“Only yours, doll.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Hey! You’ve been living with me and you’ve never once brought me a treat!” Wade complained. “I even gifted you that watch you’re clearly wearing. I feel under appreciated here, Peanut.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “What? You want a forehead kiss, too?”

“You know what? Maybe I do! I deserve one for putting up with your grumpy ass all the time.”

“Oh my gosh,” you laugh. “If he bought you that watch, Lo, I think he deserves a forehead kiss.”

“I agree,” Laura piped in with a teasing smirk.

“Three against one here, babe.”

Logan immediately caught the new nickname and cheeks flooded his cheeks. You didn’t seemed phased at all, which was fine. He didn’t want you to stop calling him that. He would do anything for you, including give Wade a kiss on his forehead.

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

Leaning down, Logan’s lips don’t get the chance to touch Wade’s forehead before Wade quickly moves and plants a wet kiss on Logan’s lips. Logan’s claws were out in record time and plunged into Wade, shoving him back.

“I fucking hate you,” Logan growled.

You and Laura were cackling, tears springing in your and Laura’s eyes at what had just happened.

“That was great!” You laughed.

“Wait, you’re not jealous, Buttercup?” Wade taunted. “I bet he’ll finally kiss you, too, if you ask him.”

“Wade—“

“Maybe I can finally fucking kiss her if we stopped getting interrupted!” Logan shouted. The room fell silent for a moment after Logan’s outburst. You reached out to grab his wrist but he pulled away. “I need a minute.”

“Lo—“

“I won’t be long.”

You watched as Logan hurried out of the apartment, practically slamming the door behind him. You glared at Wade.

“You went too far,” you told him, shaking your head.

“Hey!” Wade held his hands up. “I’m just trying to help. You both are the slowest movers.”

“Yeah, well, maybe how slow we go doesn’t matter.”

“It does when you’re on death’s door.” Wade immediately knew he had crossed a line when your face fell. “Shit! Buttercup, I didn’t mean—“

“It’s fine, Wade.” You waved him off as you stood up. “I’m going to go find Logan.”

You quickly left. Laura went over to Wade and hit him upside the head.

“Idiot,” she muttered.

~~~

You found Logan on the roof. He was standing, over looking the street with an unlit cigar between his lips. You took a deep breath and moved your fingers ever so slightly. You winced at the pain as Logan’s cigar lit. Logan jumped at turned around to see you cradling your hand.

“Shit, baby,” he dropped the cigar and rushed over to you. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m fine.”

Logan took your hand and closely examined it. Your finger tips were blackened with little blisters already forming. His heart was breaking at the sight.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered.

“Sorry,” you quietly responded. “I just wanted to do something for you… I’m sorry for Wade.”

“You don’t need to be apologizing for that idiot.”

“And I’m sorry that we keep getting interrupted. If it helps, I want to kiss you too. I’ve wanted to for a while now, just been too nervous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… you make me nervous.”

Logan chuckled. “You have know idea how nervous you make me, baby… So, can I kiss you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

Slowly, the two of you went in. Your noses bumped causing the two of you to pull back with a laugh.

“Here,” Logan muttered. 

He gently took your hands and placed them on his waisted before his hands came to carefully cradling your face. You closed your eyes, allowing Logan to take the lead on this. His lips barely brushed against yours, hesitant to take the leap. But then his lips captured yours. It had been years since either of you had truly kissed anyone like this and you were both a little rusty, but that didn’t matter. You gripped his waist tighter as you melted further into the kiss.

Suddenly, you both were jumping as Logan’s new watch beeped in your ear. Logan groaned as he pulled away and allowed you both to look at his watch. You bit back a laugh as you read ‘abnormal heart rate detected’ on the screen. Logan’s face instantly heated up in embarrassment as his watch clearly called him out on how affected he was. 

“Damn watch,” Logan grumbled, ripping it off and throwing it across the roof. “I’m sorry, doll. That was embarrassing.”

“It’s fine, but am I going to have to worry about you having a heart attack if we kiss again?”

“Not a chance, baby.”

Logan pulled you in for another kiss, less hesitant this time. You let Logan take the lead again, just enjoying kissing him. When the two of you finally parted, your foreheads rested against each other.

“Be my girlfriend,” Logan panted softly.

You smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

next chapter >

[nyaa]

[mrslestappen]

Disease : paranoid ✦ cl16

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

pairing: charles leclerc x assistant!reader

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

# part one - next part [ series masterlist ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Mr. Leclerc" 

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

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

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

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

"I thought you said you already ate." 

"I did." 

"What did you have?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Charlie?" 

"Yes?"

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

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

"You are old" 

"I'm twenty-six." 

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

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

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

✦ ✦ ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦ ✦ ✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Mon ange" 

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

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

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

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

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

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 8

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, canon-typical violence, threats, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.8K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Feet together, shoulders back, strong core, and breathe.” Your eyes are closed, finding a moment of peace as you lead your sons through your morning yoga routine.

“This is supposed to be a challenge?”

“That doesn’t sound like breathing Luke,” you laugh, opening your eyes to see the bored look on Luke and Joffrey’s faces. Jace, to his credit, was trying to concentrate. “Inhale as you reach to the sky,” you say as you bring your arms up, “and exhale as you go down.” Exhaling, you fold your body down, hands touching the floor. You lead them through a sun salutation before indulging them in some more complicated poses and sequences.

“Our next pose is Crow, just remember to breathe and find your center.” You demonstrate before walking them through the steps. Yoga was one of the few things about your old life that you refused to give up. Even if you weren’t the most active person before waking up here, yoga and meditation were a huge part of your daily routine. Within a week of being here, you found yourself slipping out of bed early to find a quiet balcony.

The boys had stumbled across your morning flow today, and insisted on giving it a try. It was rare that you shared pieces of your past life with anyone, but their enthusiasm was infectious.

“Ah-” Joffrey lost his balance, falling to the ground in a fit of giggles. 

“So close sweet boy,” you laugh. “Try it again, you almost had it-”

“Mom look, I’m doing it!” 

You gasp, “Luke, that’s it! Hold it, and bre-”

“Breathe! I know!” Luke’s arms are shaking with the effort to keep the position, but you’re impressed he managed to get it on the first try.

Jace leans over and nudges Luke. Luke topples over with a yelp. “Mom, Jace pushed me!”

You struggle to keep from laughing at the petty squabble. It felt so normal and domestic to see them arguing like siblings back home. “Jace, apologize to your brother.” 

Jace grins, “Sorry Luke. Maybe next time if you breathe better you might not fall.”

Joffrey stumbles over to drop into your lap. You stand, propping him on your hip. “On that note my loves, I will be taking Joffrey to the nursery.” You kiss Jace and Luke on the forehead. “You two go freshen up, I will see you both for breakfast.”

They both give you a hug before disappearing. You turn to leave the balcony and nearly run into someone. “That was quite the sight, issa jorrāelagon,” Rhaenyra says, holding out her hands to steady you and Joffrey. [my love]

“Issa Dāria,” you greet her with a kiss. “Were you spying on us?” [My Queen]

“Me, a spy? Never.” Nyra laughs. “I have people for that.” She ruffles Joffrey’s hair before offering her your arm. You slide your free hand into the crook of her elbow, careful to make sure you had a good grip on Joffrey. “Daemon and I are both aware of your little morning ritual.”

“Oh?”

“How do you think no servants disturb you?” Rhaenyra teases. “Daemon and I take turns watching from the stairwell and keeping the staff away.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “How long have you both known?”

“Since the first time.” 

“Maybe next time you can join,” you say, bumping your shoulder into Nyra’s gently.

“And forfeit the opportunity to watch your as-”

“Child present!” you hiss, interrupting your wife. Nyra laughs, shaking her head. You both walk the rest of the way to the nursery in silence, listening to Joffrey recount his brave efforts to master the Crow Pose. You drop him at the nursery, asking the maids to help him freshen up while you and Rhaenyra check in on little Aegon and Viserys.

“My queen,” you both stand up as a knight rushes into the room with a bow. “My queen, there is something that requires your immediate attention.”

“Whatever is the matter that it cannot wait until the small council meeting?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“There is a woman demanding an audience.”

“I am holding court later today, she can seek an audience then.”

“She claims knowledge of Lady Y/N’s illness.” 

Your gaze snaps to Rhaenyra and you lock eyes. There is a silent understanding before Nyra answers. “Bring her to the small council chambers and send for Daemon.”

You ask the maids to inform the boys of your absence at breakfast and follow Nyra to the small council chambers. “Do you think she really has an answer?”

“I do not wish to raise any of our hopes,” Rhaenyra sighed. 

Nyra stands by the windows, arms crossed as she waits. You pace the chambers. This was highly unusual. Maesters had come from all corners of the realm to offer their ‘wisdom’ and ‘cures’ for your ailment. This was certainly the first time that someone had showed up to demand an audience with the queen herself. The smallfolk and nobles were not privy to your condition. The maesters were summoned under vague direction and sworn to secrecy.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” 

Rhaenyra’s kingsguard stand at attention as the doors open to reveal a woman dressed in white, led by Nyra’s knights. You furrow your brows, unable to get a good glimpse of the woman through her cloak. The woman bows deeply to Rhaenyra, then to you. “Your highness. Lady Y/n.”

“And who might you be?” Rhaenyra asks, suspicion lacing her voice.

The woman nods, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal a curtain of white hair and cloudy white eyes. She looked young, but there was something about her that felt ancient. “I am no one.” She responds. “I carry a message from the gods.”

Rhaenyra scoffs, “you must be joking. You enter my keep, demand an audience, refuse to identify yourself, and claim to be a messenger of the gods?”

“You need not my name, only hear my words.”

“Which gods bade you come here?”

“The same gods you swore your marital oaths before.” Despite her cloudy eyes, the woman seemed to stare into Nyra. 

“What message do you bring? What do you know of my illness?” You ask, desperate for an answer.

“The worlds-walker speaks?” she grins. 

“Y/n,” Nyra warns. 

“Just tell me your message.”

“Your answers lie in the godswood.” The woman reaches into her pocket, and the knights immediately reach for their swords. Rhaenyra raises her hand, silently ordering them to hold. The woman pulls a necklace from her pocket. 

“Where did you get that?” you ask, voice shaking. “That’s the necklace my gra-”

“Your grandmother gave you on your fifteenth name day,” the woman finishes. She steps forward, placing the chain in your hand, clasping her hands over yours. “You must return to your world, worlds-walker.”

“Watch your words witch,” Nyra says coldly, stepping between you and the woman.

“How do you know of my world?” You ignore Rhaenyra, stepping away to face the woman.

“We are all pieces of ourselves.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Words alone will not satisfy you. Go to the godswood, worlds-walker.” 

The doors to the small council chambers fling open as Daemon storms in. The woman in white grins. “The dragons circle today.”

“They will do more than circle if you do not explain yourself,” Rhaenyra growls. “Stop speaking in riddles and tell us what awaits us in the godswood.”

“Answers.”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra doesn’t have to say more than his name before Daemon holds a sword to the woman in white’s throat. “What is in the godswood.”

“Wait!” you put your hand over Daemon’s, trying to pull the sword from the woman’s throat. “What are you doing, she knows what happened to me.”

“The witch speaks in riddles and lies,” Rhaenyra hisses. “Worlds-walkers are a story for children.”

“And dragons are no more than a fairy tale in my world.” You plead. “Please, how did I get here? What is a worlds-walker?”

“Go to the godswood.” The woman in white closes her eyes and pulls her hood up. Everyone in the room gasps as the cloak hits the ground, empty. The woman in white had disappeared, leaving only her cloak behind.

Rhaenyra sighs, “first maesters, and now we are so desperate as to listen to the words of witches?”

“Search the castle for the witch,” Daemon orders the knights.

“My love, I am so sorry for giving you false hope,” Rhaenyra apologizes, pulling you into a side hug. 

You shrug off her hug. “Where is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra and Daemon exchange a glance. “You are not seriously listening to the ramblings of a mad witch?”

“Either take me to the godswood, or I will find it myself.” You clench your necklace tightly. “You still do not believe me? Rhaenyra, she knew who I was, who I really am.”

“You are not a worlds-walker, Y/n!” You flinch slightly as Rhaenyra raises her voice. Her eyes are wide, “My love, I-” Rhaenyra reaches out to grab your hand, but you pull away. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “If it will help us forget this morning, we will visit the godswood.”

“Lead the way.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra walk in front of you in utter silence. Two kingsguard follow the three of you from a distance. Daemon leads the way as you walk through unfamiliar corridors to a garden. The trees sway lightly in the wind, their red leaves dancing.

“This is it?” you ask. “This is the godswood?”

Rhaenyra nods, “we will take you to the heart tree and back. If you do not find your answers here, we will never speak of this again.”

You follow them into the trees. It is eerily quiet in the godswood. The wind makes no noise as it moves through the leaves and branches. No noise of birds chirping or singing. You shiver, hugging your arms to your body to chase away the chill. “Daemon, can I have your cloak?” You look up to see that Daemon and Nyra are gone.

“Daemon?!” You yell. “Rhaenyra?!” There is no response. You turn behind you. The kingsguard are gone as well. “This isn’t funny!”

The hair on your neck stands up, and you whip around to see the woman in white.

“Welcome worlds-walker.”

NOTE: Hey gang! Guess who is finally getting some plot (ya'll). Sorry for the late chapter, I had a Pride parade on Sunday. Please enjoy the SHAMELESS fluff and slice of life before I give you all a very stereotypical vague witch to facilitate the plot. Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed on the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

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[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

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[lvnleah]

three kids chaos.

the very last part of the williamson’s thank you so much for supporting this series and sticking around! I hope you’ve loved them as much as I have <33

find the series masterlist here!

November 2032 | 7, 3 & 3 weeks old

Mornings had always been hectic, but this one felt especially chaotic. Life with three kids was a whole new level of busyness you hadn’t quite prepared for. Amelia was only three weeks old, and Leah, still recovering from her C-section, had been moving slower than usual. Understandably so, of course, but it meant that the morning routines had fallen almost entirely on you.

Leah sat on the sofa, feeding Amelia, her body still showing signs of exhaustion from the night before. You noticed the way she shifted carefully, trying to get comfortable without wincing. Amelia was nursing quietly, unaware of the storm brewing around her. Meanwhile, Finley and Ellie were in full-on chaos mode, racing through the house like tiny, noisy whirlwinds.

“Finley, where are your shoes?” you called from the living room, already knowing the answer was likely nowhere logical.

“They’re in the kitchen!” he shouted from upstairs. You sighed, shaking your head. Why they were in the kitchen, you had no idea, but at this point, you didn’t have time to question it. Shoes in the kitchen had become a regular occurrence over the past few weeks. 

Ellie, on the other hand, was on the verge of a meltdown. She stood by the sofa, her lip quivering as she watched Leah cradle Amelia. Her little face, usually so expressive and full of life, had a pout to it now that was all too familiar. She hadn’t quite gotten used to her new role as the middle child and was clearly struggling with jealousy.

“I don’ wanna to go to school,” Ellie whined, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to stay with Mumma and Mimi!”

You caught Leah��s sympathetic glance as she tried to juggle feeding Amelia and comforting Ellie at the same time. Leah adjusted Amelia in her arms, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead before looking back at Ellie.

“Ellie, bubba, you’ll see us after school,” Leah said gently, her voice soft and reassuring. “Mumma needs to rest today, and Mimi’s probably just going to sleep all day!”

“But I want to stay!” Ellie’s voice had risen, her frustration spilling over. She climbed onto the sofa and squished herself between Leah and the cushions, wrapping her little arms around Leah in a desperate hug. 

“Hey, Ells,” you said softly, kneeling in front of her and gently brushing her hair back from her face. “I know it’s hard right now, but Mumma needs her rest, and I’ll bet you’ll have lots of fun at school today. You can tell everyone about how you’re the best big sister!”

Ellie sniffled, her lip still trembling, but her eyes were glued to yours, “Mimi doesn’t like me?” Her voice was so small. 

Leah immediately shook her head, shifting a bit to make more room for Ellie. “Oh, sweetheart, Mimi already loves you so much. She’s just too little to tell you right now. But she’s going to grow up thinking you’re the coolest, I promise.”

Ellie didn’t respond right away, clearly weighing her options. After a long pause, she finally nodded, though her pout lingered. “Okay, I go school,” she mumbled, climbing off the sofa and letting go of Leah.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, kissing the top of Ellie’s head as she stood next to you. “Why don’t you help me find Finley’s shoes? Then we can get your coat on and head out.”

With the crisis momentarily paused, you and Ellie managed to track down Finley’s shoes—why they were in the kitchen was anyone’s guess—and wrangled him into his coat. Between stuffing backpacks, packing lunches, and making sure everyone had what they needed, it felt like a miracle when you finally got all three kids out the door and strapped into their car seats.

Leah was moving slowly as she eased herself into the passenger seat. You gave her a hand, watching as she winced a little before settling in, “Thanks for getting the kids sorted.”

“Always,” you replied, helping her buckle her seatbelt. You leaned in, kissing her cheek lightly. 

After dropping Finley and Ellie off at school—just in time, thankfully—you drove to the Arsenal training ground. Today was a special day. It was the first time you were bringing Amelia to meet the team, and though the morning had been chaotic, you were both excited.

 Leah had been looking forward to introducing Amelia to the girls, and you hoped it would give her a break from the intensity of the past few weeks. She was also having a quick meeting with the coaches about easing herself back into football. 

She may be 35 but she was still playing for the club. She’d retired last year from playing internationally but she hadn’t given up playing for Arsenal yet. However, you were dreading the day it came. 

Amelia had fallen asleep shortly after getting in the car, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling as she dreamed. 

“Think the girls are going to lose it when they see her?” you asked, smiling over at Leah as you drove.

Leah chuckled softly, nodding. “Oh, absolutely. They’ve been waiting for this since I told them I was pregnant. Katie’s been texting me non-stop asking when she can meet her.”

You both laughed, the stress of the morning easing a bit as the familiar sight of the training ground came into view. Parking the car, you unbuckled your seatbelt and immediately moved to help Leah out. She took your hand, her movements slow and careful, but there was a quiet determination in the way she stood, her eyes full of warmth as she looked at you.

“Ready?” you asked, grabbing the diaper bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be,” Leah replied with a small smile. She lifted the car seat carefully, Amelia still sound asleep inside, completely unaware of the big introduction awaiting her.

As soon as you walked into the lounge area, the reaction was immediate.

“Oh my god, is that her?!” Katie sprinted toward you, her face lighting up with pure excitement. Behind her, the rest of the girls followed suit, gathering around like a crowd waiting to see a celebrity.

“Everyone, meet Amelia,” Leah announced, pulling back the blanket just enough for everyone to see the tiny sleeping face.

The room erupted in coos and gasps of adoration. “She’s so tiny!” Jen whispered, her eyes wide as she leaned in closer.

“She’s perfect,” Beth said softly, looking between you and Leah with a warm smile. “How are you both doing?”

Leah leaned into you, her exhaustion palpable but so was the love in her eyes. “We’re managing. It’s been a lot, but Amelia’s already worth every sleepless night.”

You wrapped your arm around Leah’s waist, pulling her a little closer, the noise of your teammates fading into the background for a moment. Amidst the chaos of kids, school runs, and sleepless nights, this was a moment of peace. A moment where you could breathe.

Leah turned to you, her eyes bright and full of affection. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice just for you. “For everything today.”

You smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Always, love. Always.”

“Things have turned out pretty well, eh?” Leah smiled. “We’re living the life we dreamed of, pretty girl.”

“They’ve turned out perfect,” You laughed, “I wouldn’t want it to be any other way.” 

[pascaloverx]

DANDELIONS

Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.

Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.

ONE THREE

TWO

The next few days at the Bridgerton house are chaotic yet incredibly fun. Between walks and conversations with Eloise, helping Francesca with embroidery during silent but very focused hours, and spending time reading with Colin, who introduced you to his favorite books and recommended others, you are quite busy. Every day you have tea with Lady Violet Bridgerton, who is enthusiastic about the idea of finding a suitor for you during the ball season. You try to share her enthusiasm, but the truth is that spending time with her family seems more adventurous than getting married. Today, for instance, you are taking Hyacinth and Gregory to pick some apples in the garden. In reality, Gregory wants to practice archery, and you think it would be a good exercise for the younger ones. Regarding the two older brothers, you have been avoiding them. It's not an easy task, but with Lydia's help, you have managed to escape any moments alone with them. You feel embarrassed for pretending to be hurt in front of one and for covering for the other. Daphne is the only one you have yet to meet, but according to the Bridgerton family, you will soon. Recently, Eloise introduced you to a close friend named Penelope. You found her to be very perceptive and kind, which is good since she seems to be part of the family, and you want to make a good impression.

"Lady Violet Bridgerton, I assure you that the three of us will be very careful while picking apples. When I was Hyacinth's age, it was my favorite pastime," you say as you finish adjusting your shoe. Lady Bridgerton still looks a bit concerned as she watches Hyacinth and Gregory run off with their bows and arrows. You smile, imagining how it will be to spend time with them.

"Believe me, dear, you will need someone to help you with those two," Lady Violet says, somewhat nervously. You look at her, feeling uncertain, and then you hear someone approaching the room where you are.

"I believe I can be of use as the older brother at this moment. I was just finishing up some financial matters, and it seems that fresh air will do us all some good," Viscount Anthony Bridgerton says, surprising you and Lady Violet. You know that Lydia will be joining you, but staying with him and the younger siblings seems like a risk.

"That won't be necessary, Viscount. There's no need to disrupt your busy schedule when I am more than capable of handling this task with my companion," you respond instantly, as if the answer were at the tip of your tongue. Anthony gives you a mischievous smile, indicating that he plans to accompany you anyway, which makes you feel a bit uneasy. Lady Violet, however, seems more relieved.

"Miss Y/L/N, forgive my frankness, but it seems that you do not desire my company. If that is the case, I would like to clear up any misunderstanding by reaffirming that I will be accompanying you and my siblings on this apple-picking outing," Viscount Bridgerton says assertively, taking a step closer to you. You stare at him, almost forgetting that there are others around you.

"Viscount, I can assure you that such an impression is a misunderstanding. I would never have any problem with your company. I simply would not want to disrupt the busy life of a Viscount, especially as a guest in his house." A lie on your part, as you really want to avoid spending time with Anthony. The Viscount Bridgerton is one of the most sought-after men in society. One wrong rumor about the two of you, and your mother would be demanding a wedding at Queen Charlotte's doorstep in a matter of minutes.

"Y/N, I can assure you that my son, busy as he may be, always finds time to spend with his siblings. You will essentially be helping him look after the younger ones. And certainly, my son will be honored by your company," Lady Violet says, lightly tapping her eldest son's arm as if expecting him to support her statement. Anthony nods slightly, as if in agreement.

"In that case, please join us, Viscount. Goodbye for now, Lady Bridgerton," you say, looking kindly at Violet and heading towards the exit of the house. Gregory and Hyacinth follow you while Anthony says something to his mother and then approaches you. Your companion, Mrs. Lydia, comes behind you silently. She seems to want to give you or Anthony space to talk. The two teenagers seem to be having fun walking among the trees.

"Miss Y/L/N, how long exactly do you intend to avoid me?" Viscount Bridgerton speaks near you, pretending to pay attention to something else so that Lydia doesn't suspect he's trying to talk to you.

"You don't need to pretend to be looking for bees among the flowers, Viscount Bridgerton. Lydia won't suspect you. As for your question, I think it's fair to say that given the nature of our last encounter, some distance seems plausible." You try to answer his question without really answering it. He smiles slightly, but it's a nervous smile. He watches the siblings ahead of us, while Lydia takes the opportunity to chat with the young Bridgertons.

"I wasn't pretending. A bee around here is too dangerous. But getting back to our main topic, I would like to apologize for the first impression I gave you," he says as if it were an obligation for him to say so, without truly wanting to apologize. You look at him, finding his pretense amusing.

"Apologies accepted, Viscount. Was that why you wanted to come with us? To apologize for your mistake?" You ask as you and Anthony walk side by side. Hyacinth and Gregory shout, calling for their brother and you as they find an apple tree.

"Not only to apologize for my mistake," Viscount Bridgerton clears his throat loudly, "but also to give you the chance to apologize to me." As soon as Anthony says this, you shoot an arrow accurately at one of the apples at the top of the apple tree that Gregory and Hyacinth are looking at. The two are pleasantly surprised and shout that your aim is great. However, Viscount Bridgerton seems to have become nervous, perhaps even a little irritated.

"Apologize to the Viscount for what reason?" You ask as you both stop walking and face each other. He seems indignant for some reason.

"For not behaving as a lady of your stature should. Surely you know you should have forced me to marry the young lady because of what happened. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to get married, and certainly not to you. I just think that in your place, I would be more concerned about this issue," Anthony says presumptuously, leaving you offended. You look him up and down and smile. He seems not to understand.

"Viscount, I must say that you seem to have misunderstood what happened. You intruded into a room designated for me, a lady. Yet somehow, you think I owe you something. Very well. I give you a warning: if a situation like this happens again, I will be your wife faster than you can pronounce Bridgerton." Your threatening tone seems to intrigue the Viscount.

"Is that a threat, Miss?" Viscount Anthony Bridgerton speaks as if surprised by the way you speak to him.

"The trick to hitting a target like that is to always have concentration and patience. A bit of determination is also appropriate." As you approach Gregory, who can't take his eyes off the arrow, you notice Anthony looking at you with a hint of mockery.

"I believe the young lady is mistaken. Hitting the target is about strength and often talent." You hear this and feel as if he is belittling your technique. So, you raise your bow and arrow in his direction, holding it out to the Viscount in front of you.

"Try to hit the target with your method then, Viscount. Let's see which one of us knows more about what we're talking about." You say, challenging him. He doesn’t hesitate to try to hit an apple almost in the same place you did. He is so sure he will surpass you that it's almost comical when his arrow hits an apple below yours. Gregory and Hyacinth are shocked while he shows no expression.

"Dear brother, I think Miss Y/L/N's method seems to be more effective," Hyacinth says with a humorous tone. Anthony looks annoyed.

"I want to try hitting the target using your tactic, brother," Gregory says as he grabs his own bow and arrow. Hyacinth laughs at him while he struggles to place the arrow on the bow.

"I actually prefer using Miss Y/L/N's tactic," Hyacinth says, showing you how quickly she can place the arrow on the bow. You guide her to focus on the target and tell her to think of something that makes her angry to make her more determined. You can hear Anthony assisting Gregory. Anthony and you exchange glances while helping the younger ones practice archery. Later, you all gather some apples together.

[fictionalslvr]

Part two part three

SYNOPSIS:Ghost is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.

PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:3.500k

WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.

NOTES:Ghost past is based on his comics, i'll prob make this one a mini serie (if you guys like), a lot different then what i usually write for, but i hope you guys enjoy without being what you guys are used on this blog, i'm planning to write both, angst and smut, even mix them sometimes. So, i hope you guys enjoy :(

(And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.)

It’s been a long while since you lived alone, and it’s been a very comfortable life since then. At first, it made you feel uneasy, after a long while, you were getting used to it, and having a place to call yours it’s everything you wanted before. Your apartment is cozy, organized with things you like, and you always try your best to keep it clean. The neighborhood is quite calm as well, you were living peacefully in this apartment complex.

That was until a new neighbor came in. He was a tall guy, he had a mysterious aura around him, it’s the quiet type and you don’t hear him speaking so often, actually, you never heard. To be honest, he doesn’t stay in his apartment too much, it’s the one above you, and hearing him it’s unusual. Maybe it is his work that keeps him so far for too long, you can’t say exactly what he works with, since you don’t know him properly. The only thing you know is that he keeps his face a mystery, always walking with a black balaclava that shows only his eyes, and this is a mystery you were dying to get to know. One day, while walking back to your humble home, you took the same elevator as the new neighbor, the silence that creeps out is weird, and you keep your eyes everywhere, but not on him. The silence was bizarre, and it seemed like it was going to take forever! When the elevator door opens in your floor, you can only rushes out of that tiny place with that man, that almost make you hyperventilate.

He looked calm during it, laying his back in the walls while his arms were crossed and he was looking distracted. With a quick but gentle movement, you just nod your head to him when leaves, he looks surprised by it, and nods back after some seconds staring at you. The metal door closes slowly, showing no more his figure.

But your encounters with him were always like this. Some head nods and sometimes a smile from your part, But the mystery this man is, no one knows him well enough for a talk, and this was making you insane, All days, you caught yourself thinking about him, how his voice sounded like, how his face is behind that mask, what he works with, what is his name, his age..things like that kept haunting your thoughts. Until one day, you decided to make a slight move, asking for some ingredient would be a great way to hear his voice, and maybe later baking him something to give it to him.

You sigh, you heard some footsteps, he must be home today. You knock on the door, gently with your hands shaking. It doesn’t take too much until your ears peak with the sound of him getting close to the door. His figure appears when he opens just half of the door.

—”May I help you?” —His voice is raspy, calm and relaxed at the same time. You notice how he has a strong British accent. From this distance, you can smell his scent, it’s strong and smells like whiskey and cigarettes, it’s oddly…comforting.

—”Sorry for bothering, I'm the neighbor below, I just want to know…if you have some sugar to give, by any chance.” —With a cute smile, you show him a little bowl in your hands that he can put the sugar in, the man narrows his eyes at you and nods.

—”Yes, I do. wait a minute.” — His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bowl in your hands and goes inside for a while. He leaves the door slightly open, and you just wait outside hearing his heavy footsteps around the house. When he’s back, your little bowl is filled with sugar, and he gives it back to you, his fingers brushing yours again.

—”Thanks, this will help a lot. I’m making cookies…would you like some?” — Your gentle voice was hard to ignore, he slowly nodded, and you can hear a little chuckle escaping his lips. It’s very good to hear, you felt your heart skipping a beat, he’s leaning against the door frame, looking at you.

—”Thanks for the sugar, I'm [name] by the way." —He keeps silent for a while, like he’s listening to your voice attentively.

—”It was nothing. I’m glad to help you, [name].”—You were expecting that he would say his name, but he just tries your name on his tongue. The tense ambient between you two is noticeable when the silence is back. You can only hum softly and look away.

—’What is…your name?”

—Simon. Call me Simon.”

—”Oh…okay Simon, thanks again and pleasure to meet you. Goodbye!”—Was a short talk, but it was enough to make your heart flutter with the warmth of his voice. You wave at him and he waves back, then all you can see is his back turning, his figure fading inside his house.

Quickly, you made your way back, still shivering a little, scared that he might think you’re weird. With a loud sigh, you close the door behind you, feeling safe inside your home. You know his name now…Simon. His voice is raspy and deep, and yet, makes you feel like you want to hear this voice every morning, the warmth of his body so close, his dark eyes staring at you making your legs weak. Everything about him didn't sound cold as they describe him.

He wasn’t that cold, deep and dark, no. He sounded so sweet and endearing to you, you just wish you could meet him better, talk to him more, listen to his voice, feel his presence towering at you, his expressions that you can only understand by his eyes, and you find this very beautiful, understand his feeling through his eyes, hear his warm chuckle filling the hall and not leaving your ears. It was memorable, even if it looked silly or too short. You felt really happy for doing that ‘move’.

Your kitchen is filled by a sweet smell, it’s the cookies you baked, with cute gloves around your hands, you take the plate with cookies and blow the steam off softly, Okay…you should give this to Simon now. You left a cute note too, that says ‘Enjoy the cookies, i hope its good :D’

After one hour of your visit, Simon doesn't stop thinking about his neighbor. You're sweet, you're the only one in this complex that had the courage to talk to him, the other ones just look at him from afar and give him some judgmental glances. But you...you came to talk, and was smiling too! That definitely means you're not afraid of him, that you're willing to talk to him even when he's using that balaclava all the time. His thoughts are interrupted by some knock on his door, and weirdly…he hopes it's you again. He walks to the door and opens, with some kind of rush, but he doesn't see your cute smiling figure, no…he looks everywhere and there's no sight of you, but looking down, he finds a little plate painted with flowers, there's some cookies on it and a note too. He bends his body down a little and smiles through the balaclava. Picking up the plate, he can sense the smell of the warm cookies, it's still a bit hot, the steam in the air, blowing a delightful scent. He enters his apartament again, closing the door with his feet as he looks at the cookies in his hands, they look delicious. Simon starts to read the post-it in the plate, it has a message for him

"Enjoy the cookies, i hope it's good :D"

-[Name]

That's cute, he thought. It takes a chuckle out of him. His stomach starts to snore in hunger, that smell filling his brain and all he can think about is…why is she being so nice? No one in this complex was ever this nice with him, somehow, they seem to be scared of him, disgusted, or even feel pity for him. But being kind? She's the first one and all he can think about is the reasons she's doing this. He's a stoic soldier, who works a lot, doesn't stay at home too much, smells of whiskey and cigarettes, he doesn't show his face, he's tall, looks scary…why is she not afraid of Simon? He sighs and shakes his head. Sitting on his couch with a loud sigh, he rests his head back while eating her cookies, it's indeed delicious as the smell, it's house made and tastes like love. He can't help but leave a joyful hum at the taste.

—"Why is this so good?" —He talks to himself, that seems a little crazy, but he's his only company for a long while, so he's used to this. She could have poisoned him with these cookies, but no, her intentions were good. He's a cautious man, always thinking of his work, and his work only. But now? He can only taste these good cookies and wish for more, he wishes he could taste a lot of things that she made, seeing her cooking would be adorable, and the taste and smell of it only fills his heart with love, the love he never experienced before. Simon caught himself thinking of being with her, on her apartment, seeing her cook while she mumbles a song to herself, moving her body along the kitchen so cutely, he can't help but think that he wants this for his life, this peaceful mind for once, being at easy, without all the fear his work provides. And for once, rest his mind.

But she's only a kind neighbor, he shouldn't be thinking of this. He shouldn't be thinking of coming back after a long mission, and seeing her lips curling into a smile, feeling her little arms hugging him because she missed him too much, he doesn't have this. And he thinks he didn't even deserve this peace. All the people he killed with his hands, the blood he dropped, the fear in people's gaze when he's around, he's not the one who should be at a comfort in home, happy and living good, no. He thinks he doesn't deserve this at all. She's probably just being kind, why would she enjoy his company after all? He doesn't have anything good in him, he's only a stoic man, with scars, a bad past and a hard work to do that makes his hands dirty. He's sure a man like him doesn't have this.

As for you, you didn't want to bother him with your presence again, so you just left the cookies on his door, rushing back to the elevator when you knocked on the door. You wish you could see his reaction, but you don't want to disturb his peace once more, talking a lot while he just listens. You really wish he liked it. While you're on your couch, your legs are moving up and down quickly, in a nervous movement, you can't help but bite your nails, your other fingers fidgeting on your lap, as your mind is full of thoughts about his reaction. Will he like it? What if he finds you annoying? What if he finds you weird and doesn't want you around? Gosh, your mind is tricking yourself. You sigh loudly and decide to try some sleep, this will maybe put your mind at ease once, meeting new people wasn't that easy for you.

By the morning, you woke up, not from the sunlight on your body, flashing on your eyes, not from the discomfort in your back from your sleeping positions, not from your cat resting in your tummy, none of this. But, you woke up by the sound of a knock in your door, a single one, who could be this early? You get up, leaving your little cat resting now in the bed, the sunlight keeping her warm. Your vision is still a little blurry, you rub your eyes with your fingers and walk to the door, opening without thinking too much about it, and the sight of who’s here messes your mind, making your vision immediately fix alone and your mind races, the sleep left your body.

—”Sorry for appearing so early. I am…going to work. And just wanted to say thanks for the cookies last night, they were delicious.” —Simon spoke softly, he seems not sleepy at all now, but his baggy eyes show that maybe he didn’t sleep, that’s why he’s so energetic now. You blush softly, his voice is even more deep in the morning, that British accent never leaving his tongue as he speaks.

—”Oh, that’s okay, I'm glad you liked it, Simon.” —Your voice sounded dragged by the remaining sleep, but you managed to give him a little smile. You want to know what he works with to leave this early.

—”I can see you were sleeping, sorry.” —Simon looks away, scratching the back of his neck even with the balaclava, scratching the silk of it. You look at your body and notice you're with your pajamas, it’s an old one, that is now short for you, and you can’t help but blush for Simon seeing you like this.

—”Don’t worry about it. Would you…like some coffee?” —You try to change the subject, hoping he won’t talk about your pajamas. A silence stays for a long while, Simon looks into your eyes, he’s surprised about your offer and it's visible. He can only nod and mumbles under his breath. He knows that he shouldn't be accepting this, he doesn’t deserve to have a calm breakfast, with someone who doesn't look at him disgusted by his acts, someone that is too innocent, that doesn't know what those hands did, what his ears listened to, what his eyes saw. For a brief second, he had a flashback of his past, everything he did. You're kind because you don’t know this man, don’t know the danger he could be to someone so innocent like you, who could literally break you with those blood painted hands.

You invite him inside, he’s now on your table, tapping his fingers on your table, as your figure is with you back turned to him, making coffee. This house is so cozy, warm and…a bit feminine, he could say. Simon looks in every detail, noticing how there's a lot of photos of you with what seems to be your family. You have someone that cares about you, everything he had vanished like dust, you’re so lucky for having a family. He wonders, if your family would take care of him too, if they would accept him like a son, and yet…he doesn’t have nothing with you, just some small talk. Maybe he is only overthinking. Your voice snaps him out of a trance, while he looks at your photos around the house.

—”How do you like your coffee? With sugar?”—He drives his attention to you again, who’s looking at him from your shoulder. He likes sugar, it’s something that can distract him from his bitter life.

—”With sugar, please.” —And after a while, in a good and comforting silence, you pour the coffee in two cups, putting one in front of the man on her table. He looks so much bigger than her chair, it’s a little funny, in a good way. The steam flows from their cups as Simon looks down to it, his face is hard to read, after all, only his eyes appear. Then, you caught yourself wondering, how he would drink the coffee with that balaclava.

—”I won’t look, i promise.”—You looks away, while blowing the steam and taking a sip of your coffee to disguise your nervous manner, bad idea, it was hot as hell, it burn your tongue, and you hiss in pain, dropping the cup back into the table quickly, happily, it didn’t break, You make a pout with your lips, your tongue hurts a lot now.

—”Oh, are you…okay?” —Simon left everything he was thinking behind and walked in front of you. He kneels down to level his height, since you’re sitting in the chair. His figure bends down to yours, his hands are shaking when he touches your arm slightly, like he’s afraid to make you uncomfortable.

—”Is’h okay…”—Your voice sounds weird, since your tongue hurts, you can’t speak properly. Simon takes a cup from your sink and pour the sink water on it, it’s not cold, neither hot. He kneels back, looking up to your eyes and giving you the cup with water.

—”Here, warm water will help.” —You do as he advises and drink the water without hesitation. The burden sensation easen a little, he seems to know what to do in this kind of situation.

—”How did you knew…thanks.”—Deciding to interrupt your question, you just say thanks to him. He looks right into your eyes, his expression seems softer a little, seeing you’re a little better.

—”My job…makes me learn how to prepare yourself for all kinds of situations.” —He talks a little about his job, not revealing what exactly it is. You look down at him, keeling down on his knees while looking worried about you, his hands still shaking, wandering on his knees, not touching you to make you uncomfortable. After all he passed through, he wouldn’t want someone like you to feel the same.

—”Thanks, it helped somehow. You’re really prepared for this.”

—”It’s my job to protect people. We have our ways to do so.” —Simon gets up from the ground and walks back to his chair, in front of you, slightly he lifts up his balaclava, revealing only his mouth and drinks a sip. The coffee it's not as hot as it was before. In a sign of respect, you look away, not wanting to invade his privacy, and he appreciates this a lot. After the burden sensation ends, you drink your now cold coffee, both in silence as you look away all the time, even with the curiosity to see his lips, you won’t do it. And by his words, you can guess what he works with…maybe he’s a doctor, a firefighter…a military?

—”The coffee is delicious, thanks for this.”—He feels himself going back to when his mom was alive, she was the only one who would really care about him, making him coffee…and this moment reminds him about her. It still hurts. A lot. He sighs softly, and you can say he’s thinking about something, but you won’t ask.

—”You often stay a lot of days out for work, no? Seems like a hard job.”

—”A very hard one, everything I do, changes a life. Big choices, big responsibilities…”

—”I understand…at least, I hope you can rest when you’re at home.”

—”It depends. I don’t really have any time to rest.” —You can hear Simon sigh, he’s really tired of this job. You still look away, not seeing his lips exposed a little. This moment, it’s the first one he could rest, even for a bit, not rest his body, but rest his mind.

—”And…will you stay out for days this time?”

—”Who knows.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. What a bad life he has, staying out for days, and when he’s back, he can’t even rest his mind. This moment, he wishes he could live like this forever, hearing your soft voice as you look around to respect his privacy, he didn’t even need to ask for, you knew somehow. Your cozy and warm apartment, it’s a lot different from his, his is almost empty, boring, sad. But yours? Had memories, life, and happiness. He wishes he could stay there forever. And he knows his duty, saving the world, saving citizens, or he could say…killing lives on exchange to save others. Making his hands dirty, so no one would need to do, only to see people like you, who has a family, a happy life, a rested mind, that’s why he does his job, so people like you can live without worries. In exchange, he sees things horrific, he hears screams in his ears that live on his mind, his body ends up tired and sore from all of this, just to see your smile on your face. He had a terrible childhood, he fought for his life, lost everything that was dear to him, in order to keep the peace in the world. In order to meet you, to see your brilliant smile. At least, he likes to think that way, this makes his life less insignificant, it’s like he’s a hero, when he knows he’s not. It’s just better to see this way, and hope it’s the truth, hope it’s not his imagination, trying to make him less guilty for everything he did all his life.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 9)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: this is the chapter that i have been looking most forward to writing. I have thought about it again and again. I'm sorry if the major angst wasn't what you were expecting but i added an extra paragraph at the end so it isnt too traumatic <3

Series Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (not the fun kind), forced marital consummation for them both...

WORD COUNT: 1,334 words

You look so small in his arms as he carries you to the bedchamber, like a delicate flower that will fall apart if he holds you too tightly. No words are shared between your husband and yourself during the walk; an air of uncomfortable tension surrounds the two of you. Even when you enter the room and he places you down ever so gently, there are no words for a few moments.

“Perhaps you would like some water? Or some time to allow the effects of the alcohol to fade?” You’re drunk. He knows it. You know it. You’re swaying occasionally as he speaks.

“I would rather not.” You breathe out. The drunkenness is intentional. You don’t want to remember this night if you need not to.

“Are you quite sure? I think it would just be beneficial if-”

“I would like to have it over with.”

He cringes. It’s not the words a man wants to hear from his wife on their wedding night. He had always assumed his wedding night would be the best of his life, something filled with love and passion. He sees now that he was dreadfully wrong.

“If this is not something you wish to do today…”

“The marriage must be consummated.” It’s a practiced thought.

He thinks for a moment… then gives in. “I will do my best to make you comfortable. Come.” He beckons you over to him and you apprehensively make your way to your new lord husband. 

His hand moves your hair out of the way as your back faces him. His fingers move to the ties of your dress and he starts to undo it. You feel cold when it’s tugged down, even with the fire heating the room. You stand in front of him now, only in your slip as he gazes down at you. You thought he would look more hungry, more lustful.

“May I take this off?” He murmurs, his fingers toying with the strap of your slip. 

You know it is traditional to be bare for the act but just the thought of a man seeing you naked, even if he is your husband, makes you shudder.

Cregan senses your unease and speaks again, “Perhaps I should rephrase myself. Do you wish for me to take this off? You need not say yes just because it is expected, my love.”

“I-I would rather not.” You say with a shaky voice.

“Then you will keep it on. You will have to take off your small clothes though, but I think you should do that yourself.” He says carefully before unbuttoning and removing his tunic to give you a sense of being on the same level but looking at his bare chest does nothing but make you feel… strange.

You move slowly and he looks away as you pull your underwear off from beneath your slip. He then takes your hand to lead you to the bed but you pull it out of his grasp and crawl onto it yourself, looking at him with as straight of a face as you can muster.

“Will you have me on my front or back?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you like me to lie on my stomach or my back?” You ask emotionlessly.

“Um… well whatever is preferable for you. I thought, perhaps, you would allow me to do something first, to prepare you?” He kneels before you, between your legs. His fingers play with the hem of your chemise, ready to lift it and place kisses up… up… up. “You would enjoy it, I promise.” The look in his eyes is warm, an attempt to be comforting.

“No, I don’t want that.” You move back like a spooked mare. He may be about to bed you but that is far too intimate. “I want it done with.”

“You’re trembling. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You don’t frighten me.” You protest, almost offended, even if you are afraid. 

“I won’t hurt you… or i’ll try not to.” You’re tense and a virgin, it would be lucky if he didn’t hurt you a little bit. “I’ll be gentle. I’ll take care of you.” He tries his hardest to reassure you but to no avail.

You roll onto your stomach so you don’t have to look him in the eyes, so he can’t see the tears that are threatening to fall. “Please just make it quick.”

Quick and gentle aren’t usually two things that go hand in hand but he wants to do his best to make it easy for you. Over and done with he thinks as he lifts your hips to place a pillow under them so you’ll be more comfortable.

“It will sting at first but we’ll go at your pace. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”  You don’t say anything for a few seconds. “I need to know you understood me, darling.”

“I understand.” The short statement is enough for him.

 He lifts your slip until it only covers your bum. Usually he would feel himself harden at the sight of such plush thighs but your discomfort makes it difficult to arouse himself. He pumps his hand along his shaft, feeling it finally get stiff. He then spits on his hand so he can at least provide some lubricant even with you refusing his attempts of preparation.

You almost shiver when you feel the head of him against your folds and your eyes screw shut when he starts to push in.

The resistance. The resistance of your body makes him feel sick to his stomach. He’s never had a time with a woman where he didn’t just slip in with ease and now he’s just forced himself into his unwilling young bride.

“I should stop.” He breathes out.

“That is all it is?” You thought it would last longer.

“No, but you don’t like it.”

“I won’t like it anymore another day.”

Gods he feels worse now. Will it always be awful for you? Will you never be happy as his wife?

He starts to thrust in and out of your warmth anyhow. If he can’t please you then he at least won’t prolong your misery. It stings no matter how slow he goes, your body isn’t used to such a stretch. He holds your hips carefully, wanting nothing more to kiss you gently and tell you how beautiful you are, how good you’re doing. He just knows that such sentiments would fall on deaf ears.

It goes on for a few minutes. The tears that were held in your eyes are now fallen as you bury your face in the pillows. You don’t want him to see how weak you are. It’s pathetic to cry over something that every woman goes through. Your tears won’t make you feel less ruined, they won’t stop the mixing of his seed with your maiden’s blood. When it’s finally over, all you can do is hope that there is a son in your belly so you’ll never have to warm your husband’s bed again.

He hears your muted sobs for only a few minutes before you’re quiet. It’s been more than a long day and he’s pleased you have found your rest. You shift in your sleep, your body never used to the cold as you turn to face him. He wishes he could make you as content in waking day as you are in sleep. Cregan’s hand brushes the hair off your face. He knows there’s no woman in the world so beautiful. Any man would be pleased to have you… but you’re not truly his.

Your brows furrow as you feel the chill in your sleep. You subconsciously look for warmth and you unintentionally find it in the man that lies next to you. Cregan isn’t sure what to do when his delicate bride starts to cling to him but he can’t prevent the small smile from crossing his lips. At least an unthinking part of you finds solace in him.

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Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles @a-beaverhausen @petertingle3000 @lunnnix @hermaeusmorax @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @purplegardenwhispers @aesthetic0cherryblossom @katiemars @yourwonderbelle @callsignwidow

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 15

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

Series Masterlist

You and Benedict decided to go riding today. Eloise wanted to stay back and read, thus leaving you and Benedict alone. You weren't sure if this was a blessing or a curse.

In the past few years, it's clear that Benedict has matured greatly, however, you still see glimmers of the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. He's still playful and loves to tease you, but he also knows when to give you rest and let you think.

These new qualities he's adapted makes your heart stir and it's driving you mad.

You're currently resting at the creek where you like to rest on your rides with Bluebell. You guide her to the water and she leans over, drinking from the creek. Monsieur Montclair's horse, Jack, follows Benedict to the water, mimicking Bluebell.

Benedict is parched as he gulps down the water from his water pouch. You giggle, reaching up and wiping the trail of water cascading down his neck.

Realizing how intimate that gesture was, you clear your throat and look back at the creek, "I've come here a lot lately after James' passing. When I need a moment to myself."

Benedict looks around, the tall trees looming over, the sunlight peeking through the branches. He nods, "I can see why. It's very serene here."

You take your satchel and plop underneath the usual tree you sit under, "I've also been attempting to write again."

"And how's that going?" Benedict asks as he sits beside you.

"I have some lines here and there that I like, but putting them all together is the problem."

"Can I see?"

You snort, "Absolutely not."

He gives you a pout, "Why?"

"Because they're not ready yet!"

"Y/N, how many times have I shown you my unfinished work? Come now, it's only fair you do the same," he reaches out for your bag and you pull it away.

"Nope!"

He tries again, reaching further out and you keeping it out of his reach, "Y/N, don't be difficult!"

"I should be saying that to you!" you exclaim with laughter. You yelp as you fall over and Benedict crawls on top of you trying to grab your back.

You're laughing, "Benedict! Quit it!"

"Not until you show me your work!"

With as much force, you toss the bag and look at Benedict. Who scrambles to his feet and you're rushing after him. He gets to the bag first and now it's his turn to keep the bag away from you. You're chasing him around trees and brush, your laughter echoing around you.

"Benedict Bridgerton, you come back here at once!"

"Who are you, my mother?!" he cries out as he pulls your notebook out of the bag, dropping the bag onto the ground as he continues to keep away from you.

"You leave me no choice!" you jump and tackling him, both of you falling onto the grass with a thud.

Benedict groans in pain, "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes!" you cry out as you grab the notebook from his hand. You sit up, straddling him and promptly slip it into the cleavage of your dress.

"Cheater," Benedict grumbles with a frown.

You stick your tongue out at him and then realize the position that you're in, "Oh," you climb off him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You brush any leaves and dirt from your dress and clear your throat, "I'll show you my work when I'm ready, Ben." You stick out your hand to help him up.

"Fine," he says with a sigh, he takes your hand and rises from the ground. He dusts off his pants and look at the sky, "The sun is starting to set. Shall we head back?"

You nod, "Yes, that's probably best." You two walk together back to the horses.

Benedict bumps his shoulder to yours, "So, how are you feeling?"

"A lot better. Your presence has really helped...and Eloise! Yours and Eloise's presence has helped me a lot. Thank you."

"Of course," he responds with a grin. The two of you reach the horses, who have been waiting patiently for you.

Benedict helps you mount Bluebell and then goes to mount Jack. You two ride back to the estate in a comfortable silence.

___________________

At dinner, you talk to Eloise more than you talk with Benedict. You've felt like you've been neglecting her, which isn't fair.

"I take it you enjoy the library?"

"It's incredible! I haven't seen that many books in one room!" she looks to the Montclairs, "Can I stay here forever?" The older couple laugh.

"And how about you, Mister Bridgerton? Have you been enjoying your stay?" Monsieur Montclair asks.

Benedict gives him a polite smile, "Very much, monsieur. Your home is wonderful and it makes me feel relieved to know how well taken care of Y/N is here."

"Thank you, that's very kind," Madame Montclair says, "So, Mister Bridgerton, how have the marriage prospects been going for you? I hear your mother is trying very hard to find you a match."

Benedict suddenly feels nervous. It feels wrong talking about this with you around. He doesn't want to hurt you by potentially reminding you of James or-

"I hear all of London has been throwing themselves at Benedict," you say jokingly, which causes him to whip his head towards you.

"How do you know that?"

"Penelope," you respond with a smirk as you sip from your glass.

Eloise groans, "The amount of women that have come up to me to get information regarding my brother is so annoying and rude! The amount of times he's used me as a shield!

You chuckle and look to Benedict, "Can't handle all the attention, Ben?"

He smiles, "You know I never cared for it."

"Well if you do find a match, you'll have to let me speak to her first. I need to make sure she can handle you and your family."

He laughs, "Yes, of course, I'll be sure to remember that."

While you and he banter, Monsieur and Madame Montclair give each other a knowing look.

__________________________

You've just gotten ready for bed when Madame Montclair knocks at your door. With your robe wrapped tightly around you, you open it.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not, cheri. I just wanted to discuss something with you."

"Alright," you sit at the edge of your bed.

"Your father and I have noticed that you and Mister Bridgerton have a special connection."

"We've been friends since childhood."

"Yes, we are aware, but not that kind of connection." She gives you a pointed look that makes you feel like a scolded young child.

"Well...my relationship with Ben had always been platonic, but my feelings for him were romantic for the longest time, until I met James. The day of the wedding, Benedict confessed his love to me and then walked out of my life. He broke my heart. I do love James, mama, I swear-"

"Cheri, I never doubted your love for James. But I can see that your love for Benedict is something much deeper."

You nod, "Having Ben back in my life has brought on feelings that I thought were long gone."

Madame Montclair approaches you and grabs your hands, giving them a squeeze, "Perhaps this is your second chance, cheri. Papa and I have always told James to fight for what he loves. We are going to tell you to do the same. You take care of that heart of yours. And know you will always be part of our family."

Hearing and processing Madame Montclair's words felt like a burden was being lifted from your shoulders. You stood up, wrapping your arms around the older woman, "Thank you so much, mama. I'm very grateful to have you as my mother."

"And we're thankful to have you as a daughter," she presses a kiss to your head and it makes your heart clench a bit. If your mother was still alive, you were sure she'd like Madame Montclair.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 70

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,735ish

Summary: Your relationship continues to progress as your health declines.

Warning(s): health problems, illusions to sex, talk of death

Notes: There's some time skips in here and a rollercoaster of emotions. Please send in reactions! Can't believe there's only the final 2 chapters left. HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Kissing and making out quickly become your and Logan’s favorite thing to do together. But Logan especially loved stealing small kisses as the two of you cooked, cleaned, cuddled together or just any time he could. 

Despite your hesitation, Logan took over the rent. You told Laura about getting fired but told her not to worry, that you and Logan had a plan. She argued at first, saying that she could quit school and work full time, but you quickly convinced her otherwise.

At this point, Logan was basically living at your place. He would go home to sleep and change for a few hours but he was over at your place for the rest of his free time. 

It had been weeks since your first kiss and your powers were increasingly getting worse. You were currently laying on the couch, groaning in pain. Your joints felt like they were on fire, which they probably were. You had completely lost track of time and failed to realize that it was time for dinner until Logan came home from work.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted. His eyes fell to you on the couch and could immediately tell that something was wrong. He rushed over to your side. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

“Everything… hurts…” you panted.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Didn’t… want… to… bother…”

Logan shook his head. “You’re never a bother, doll.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, sighing as he felt how hot you were. “What can I do to help?”

“Bed…”

Without another word, Logan carefully pushed his arms underneath you and pulled you into his chest. He stood up and carried you to bed.

“What else can I do for you, baby?” He asked, softly.

“Nothing,” you rasped. “I’m fine…”

“Don’t lie to me.” Your stomach rumbled. “Darlin’, have you eaten at all today?”

“A little.”

Logan sighed. “That’s not okay. Will you be okay if I leave to go make some dinner?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” He leaned in and pecked your lips. “Call for me if you need anything, alright?”

You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed. Logan sighed, hating that he couldn’t do anything to take away your pain. The cure seemed to burn a hole in his pocket as he headed for the kitchen. He knew that you were getting worse and that the cure may not work, but Logan was becoming close to getting on his knees and begging for you to try it. Though, then he remembered that if it didn't work, that he could lose you forever and he couldn’t bear the thought of that.

~~~

“Wake up, darlin’.” Logan’s soft voice began to rouse you from your slumber. “Time to eat.”

You groaned. “More sleep,” you mumbled.

Logan chuckled. “You need some food in you, baby. Gotta keep you healthy.” Your eyes blinked open until they were focused on him. “There’s those beautiful eyes.” 

You smiled. As you went to sit up, you whine. Logan’s hands were quickly on you, helping you up. His hands pressed into your back further once he felt that your temperature had dropped. He was absolutely hating this. One second he felt like you were okay and the next, he was reminded that you were dying.

“Come on, darlin’, I got you,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

Logan carried you down the hall and to the table. He set you down on a chair and quickly grabbed a blanket to wrap around you.

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled up at him.

“Of course,” he kissed your head before he dished you up some food and set the plate down.

“Thank you for how well you take care of me.”

“Least I could do for the woman I love.”

Your eyes went wide, completely caught off guard by the confession. “You… what?”

“Uh, yeah, I… I love you.” A brief moment of silence followed before Logan began rambling, “And you don’t have to saw it back. In fact, you never do. I’m okay with loving you like this. I’m okay with—“

“I love you, too, Lo.”

You had never see a smile on Logan’s face like the one he was wearing right now. “You do?”

“Yes, Lo, I do.”

He leaned down and captured your lips into a loving kiss. Your hand snaked up to the back of his neck, keeping his lips close, while his hands found your waist. Letting your emotions get the best of you, the chair next to you went up in flames. You whimpered into Logan’s mouth before he quickly pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry you fell in love with a dying version of me.”

Logan’s hand came up and cupped your cheek as he shook his head. “Don’t. I’m just grateful to love you as long as I can.” 

~~~

Logan and you still had yet to have sex. The two of you had made out and let it get heated, but you either stopped yourselves from going further or your powers stopped you. But there was one thing that Logan longed to do before he even had sex with you, and that was to hold your hand. It sounded stupid and simple, but it was true. He wanted to hold your hand as the two of you watched movies and as you walked the streets. He wanted to hold your hand over the consul of the car and bring it up to his mouth for a kiss. But you never let him.

One night, the two of you were cuddling on the couch. Logan reached over and took one of your hands. He noticed how you immediately tensed, but chose to ignore it. Logan began to caressing each finger and the palm of your hand. He felt each scar like he was trying to memorize them.

You bit your lip as tears began collect in your eyes. You hated your hands, how they were now rough with scars. You hated how Logan was touching one of them now, with such gentle care. But you didn’t want to pull away because you didn't want to upset him.

Logan knew that something more was going on as your hand began to heat up and flames began flicking at your fingertips. He pulled you back into him more and kissed your cheek.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He whispered. The new term of endearment sent chills down your spine. 

“Nothing,” you tried to brush it off. “I’m fine.”

“I thought that we were going to stop with those lies?”

You sighed. “I… I hate my hands… They don’t feel or look nice with all the scars on them.”

“I love your hands.” You scoffed. “I’m serious, baby.” He lifted the hand that he was already holding up to his lips and began pressing kisses to it, especially focusing on the new burns forming. “They’re so powerful and delicate at the same time. They’ve fought so hard all these years and they keep fighting hard for the ones you love… And I know that I would love holding them if you would let me.”

“You wouldn’t think that they feel weird?”

“Not a chance, darlin’. I know that they would make me feel grounded and closer to you. But I won’t press you into it if you really don’t want to.”

“I’d like to try… if you don't mind the scars.”

“Baby, I love the scars.” He kissed the palm of your hand. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“Love you, too, Lo.”

~~~

Laura came home one day to find you shivering on the couch.

“Mom!” She exclaimed, rushing to you. She touched your face and gasped at how cold you felt. She grabbed two blankets and wrapped you in them. “Mom, tell me how long this has been going on?”

“M—most of the d—day…” you stammered.

“Why didn’t you call anyone?”

“Didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“And coming home to find you like this is better?”

“Buttercup!” Wade announced his entrance. “I’m here to see— Shit!” He rushed over.

“Wade, I need you to take her to the bedroom, try to get her warmed up. I’ll grab some other items to warm her up.

“On it! Heating pad, Wade, coming right up!” Wade scooped you up and carried you to your room. He got you situated in a pile of blankets before joining you in bed, cuddling against you. “I’ve got you, Buttercup. Gonna get you all warmed up.”

~~~

“Hey, Laura,” Logan greeted as he entered the apartment. “How was—what’s wrong?” He grew concerned when he noticed she was crying. 

“I—I—I found her freezing on the couch,” Laura cried. “I’ve never felt her so cold… Logan… I’m going to lose her… I’m going to lose my mother.”

Logan pulled her into his embrace with a quiet shush. He didn’t say anything as let her cry while holding her close. He knew that there was nothing he could say to fix this. You were dying and even the cure weighing heavily in his pocket may not save you. This was a lot for all of you and it seemed that Laura was slipping through the cracks.

“I can’t lose her,” cried Laura. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Logan whispered, kissing her head. “I can’t lose her either.” Logan held her close, letting Laura cry it all out. 

“Wade’s in the bedroom with her,” she whispered once the tears subsided. “He’s trying to warm her up.”

“I’ll go switch him out.” Logan pulled away. “We’re going to get through this, kid. No matter what happens.”

Laura nodded. “I’m going to start dinner.”

Laura hurried away to the kitchen while Logan headed down the hall. Your bedroom door was open, revealing you in a pile of blankets and Wade wrapped around you.

“Lo,” you breathed out when you noticed him at the door.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled at you, stepping into the room. “Is this asshole bothering you?”

“Hey!” Wade exclaimed.

“No,” you laughed. “He’s been helpful. Not as warm as you though.”

“Good,” Logan said. “I’m supposed to be your personal heater. Off, Wilson.”

“Fine,” Wade huffed. “I’m going to go help Laura. Maybe she wants me.” He kissed your cheek before getting up and shutting the door behind him.

Logan pulled off his jacket, tossing it aside, as he slipped off his shoes. Carefully, Logan took Wade’s spot and pulled you into him.

“How was your day, babe?” You asked, pressing a kiss to the shaved spot on his chin.

“Fine,” he replied. “Just work. Wish you would have called.”

“Sorry.”

“You’ve got to start calling someone, baby. Or someone’s going to have to be home with you at all times.”

“I just hate that I’m getting worse.”

“I know, doll. Me too… You know that you could always try the cure.”

“No. No. I’m not ready to take that risk yet. I need more time… we need more time.”

Logan sighed, knowing that you were right. He gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you, darlin’. So much.”

“I know, Lo. I love you, too.”

~~~

Logan began sleeping on the couch, too worried that his apartment was too far away if you needed anything. After a few nights, you began falling asleep on him while watching movies. At first, he would tuck you in once the movie was over and then go back to the couch for the rest of the night. Then, Logan started falling asleep during the movies too, with you on top of him. 

Laura woke up in the mornings to find the two of you like that. She snapped a few pictures the first couple of days but as it continued, the sight just caused her to roll her eyes.

“Have you guys ever heard of a bed?” She teased one morning. “Mom has a bed. It’s in her room down the hall. It’s big and super comfortable. It can fit both of you. Use it. Please.” Then she left for the day.

You and Logan laughed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you,” you told him before kissing under his chin.

“Yeah?” He questioned. “You sure?”

“I’m positive. Plus, don’t you feel a little cramped on the couch?”

“Depends… are we using the bed for—“

“Sleeping. Right now, just sleeping.”

Logan smirked. “I guess I can be fine with that.”

~~~

Logan and you walked down the street, holding hands. He had just taken you to a nice dinner and the two of you were heading home.

“It’s a pretty night,” you commented.

“Not as pretty as you, my love,” Logan told you.

“Lo,” you leaned into his shoulder bashfully.

“What? It’s true. I’m the luckiest man alive to be with a woman as beautiful as you. Inside and out.”

“Even with all my scars?”

“Even with all your beautiful scars.” 

“Lo?”

“Yes, my love?”

You stopped and got in front of him. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated kiss.

“Take me home,” you breathed agains this lips. “Laura’s not home tonight. Take me home."

Logan quickly got you home and the two of you began making out in bed. You pushed him to lay down and you straddled him. His hands found your hips as he broke the kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” He whispered. “I’m completely okay with just kissing you for the rest of forever.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

The two of you began kissing again, Logan letting you take the lead completely. Your hands slipped underneath Logan’s shirt and quickly heated up. He groaned and you quickly pulled away, sitting up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean too.”

“I know, darlin’,” he said. “I’m just worried about you. I don't want you to hurt yourself. You gotta tell me when it’s too much, alright?”

“Alright.”

“We stop as soon as you start hurting. Got it? I can handle all the pain, just not you in pain.”

“Okay.”

~~~

Logan was nothing but a perfect gentleman, letting you have complete control except for when he could tell that you were over doing it. The two of you had to take a few breaks in order for you to not burst into flames, but Logan didn’t mind as long as he was with you. Logan would remember that night as the last perfect night for a long time. 

The next morning, Logan woke up first. You were still cuddled up and naked against him and freezing. Your skin was also dry and ashy. When you finally woke, you were crying out in pain. Logan immediately got to work on taking care of you. It was a long and painful day for the two of you. That night, Logan got Laura and Wade together and the three of them decided that you could no longer be home alone. Logan would continue to work and mainly take the night shift and weekends. Wade would be over you when Laura wasn't working or going to school because both Wade and Logan pressed once again that her quitting was not an option.

It was a week later when you began coughing up ashes. And another few days after when your whole body kept setting itself on fire. It got to the point where you were now basically living in a blow up pool in the middle of the living room. It was the only way to keep you from catching fire. The problem is, they couldn’t keep the water warm enough to stop the chills.

They all put up with this for six weeks before Laura finally broke.

“Mom,” she gripped your hand tightly as you laid in the pool. “You can’t keep going like this… We can’t keep seeing you like this.” Tears streamed down Laura’s cheeks. “I can’t do this. I know that you originally said no to taking the cure, but, please mom, for me. I need you to try.”

“Kiddo,” you rasped, giving her hand the beset squeeze you could muster.

“Please mom. For me. I need you to try. I can’t watch another parent die a terrible death.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then you at least tried and I will know that.”

Your eyes fell to Logan and Wade who were behind her. You could tell that they were feeling the same.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’ll take the cure.”

~~~~

Notes: I am not saying which version is angsty and which version is fluffy, though they both start out angsty. I hope that you choose to read both of them.

next chapter VERSION 1 >

next chapter VERSION 2 >

[mellowtrashtrash]

FNaF World: Welcome to the Freakshow!

Today I challenged myself to see how many characters I could complete in one day. We've got a lot to cover, so let's get started with...

Scrap Baby!

Pizzeria Simulator's iconic wretched dumpster clown!

Some of my finest modeling and animation! Scrap baby was a doozy of a design to try to simplify. She practically has the detail of every Sister Location character combined! Naturally, this proved to be quite the challenge, but in the end it turned out great. The shapes are very smooth and the rigging is exquisite. You can hardly even tell with how swift the animations are, but I was very deliberate with how those little wire-orb things were rigged. They move with the limbs and body to skillfully avoid obvious instances of clipping!

There were lots of hooks and curves involved in the blender process, and it was a meticulous and precarious process, but I managed to pull Scrap Baby together in about three days. After finishing her today, I figured "Hey, why not do a couple more! I have it in me!" And with that, my quest began. The next character(s?) I tackled was...

The Minireena duo!

Everyone's favorite claustrophobic nightmare children!

I decided to go with two of them, in reference to Sister Location Custom Night's two different sets of Minireenas, and also because just one would be far too small!

Now these little punks were a delightfully obnoxious design process! I'd never had the (dis)pleasure of working with two separate armatures in one character before this, and it was quite the challenge. But you all know I like a good modeling/animation challenge. It gives the sometimes boring process some novelty!

Sidenote: Minireenas' eyes are kind of weird. They show up only in specific instances, but are absent the rest of the time. Obviously so, as you can see their little endoskeleton in their custom night icon. No eyes! I think Scott just needed a way to make their jumpscares a little more intense, and didn't want to worry about giving them eyes anywhere else. But hey, those beady yellow peepers definitely worked! They're quite the uncanny sight!

Next, we've got the one, the only...

Bonnet!

Sister Location Custom Night's very own adorable nuisance!

Remember earlier, when I mentioned how just one Minireena would be too small by itself? There wasn't any getting around it this time. Bonnet is, by all accounts, a palette swap of Bon Bon, but does that hold her back from having her very own identity independent of his? Absolutely not! Bonnet has set herself apart with her signature mosey, her insecurity about her (literal) button nose, and her unnerving ability to maneuver around without the aid of an uncanny, leg-bearing, scary bear companion! (Try saying that five times fast!)

It's a little tough to make a character like this work on their own, but I managed to pull it off, and have somehow produced some of my favorite animations so far. Her big leap is very rabbit-like, and it's pretty natural-looking. Her hurt animation has a little shiver to it, like she's shuddering from discomfort. Her animations managed to be very lifelike, despite the limitations of the character's design.

Next up, in a sort of redundant fashion, we've got...

Lolbit!

The oddball salesman adapted for the screen!

Kind of an odd choice of character, considering Lolbit's already been in FNaF World, but with their breakout roles in Sister Location Custom Night and Ultimate Custom Night since their initial debut, I figured it was prudent to include them. My working theory is that once the story of FNaF World had concluded, Lolbit got bored of hanging around in Animatronica, and decided to find some business elsewhere, winding up with their unforgettable inclusion as a face on a series of screens that forces you to type buttons on your keyboard. Not the most stunning appearance, but hey, it's unique! And it's funding the development of new and better Bytes! Then once their contract expired, Lolbit returned to Animatronica to continue developing Bytes, only to find that new shopkeepers had arrived to take their place. Naturally, this meant Lolbit had only one thing left to do: tag along with the adventurers to find someplace to sell without competition!

In contrast to Funtime Foxy's monstrousness, I gave Lolbit the cheeky, cheerful charisma they've been rocking in every one of their appearances across the franchise. As a result, Lolbit's animations are teeming with callous impudence!

Finally, the character you've all been waiting for, the main attraction, the star of the show... It's:

Gumball Swivelhands!

Pizzeria Simulator's shockingly stupendous sweet-supplier!

Bet you weren't expecting this one, were you? Move over Candy Cadet, Gumball Swivelhands is the new star of the candy-dispensing show!

This character was unexpectedly fun to animate, and I adored the opportunity to model its face, but I must say, that expression seems awfully familiar. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it makes me feel a profoundly frustrated sense of déjà vu...

Pizzeria Simulator is chock-full of memorable character designs, and despite its apparent genericity, there's always been something striking to me about Gumball Swivelhands. A concentrated sense of whimsy permeates this character like the suffocating aroma of six different flavors of bubble gum surrounds a gumball machine.

To me, this is what FNaF World is all about! Identifying and celebrating even the strangest corners of Five Nights at Freddy's history! There's a place for iconic, fan-favorite characters, right alongside obscure, sometimes even downright forgettable weirdos like this one! Five Nights at Freddy's is a freakshow, but not one that ridicules its freaks, one that holds them up high with a combination of joy and pride, like a father whose son has won the big sports game. "That's my son!" FNaF says, gesturing to the Eggbaby. "Hooray!" I scream from the bleachers. "Three cheers for these wonderful weirdos! Hip hip, hooray!"

I look forward to whatever I have to share next time. As always, thanks so much for tuning in! I'll catch you on the flipside!

[myown-worstenemy-2003]

Someone Else Callin' You Baby?

A/N: Hey y'all! I'm back on my bullshit with a mini-series! This is "chapter one" of the series! Can't wait to see the reactions to this! I hope you enjoy, and let me know any feedback that you have! If you feel up to it send me a request and I will do my best to give it justice!

Summary: You and your daughter are new to Hawkins, what's going to happen when you find your boyfriend, Billy Hargraves with someone else in his car?

Word Count: about 1300

"A-B-C! It's easy as one, two, fwee!" you hear from the backseat. You look into the rearview mirror, your five-year-old daughter was in her car seat looking out the window and singing along to The Jackson Five. You were on the way to see your boyfriend and for him to finally meet your daughter. It had taken you a few months for you to even think about letting him meet your daughter. But you ended up deciding that you liked him enough to let him meet her, that was today's plan.

You flicked on the turn signal as you came to the stop sign. You look at the house on the corner, home to your boyfriend, Billy. But you saw his car backing out of his driveway. You frown in confusion, did he forget that you were coming over today?

It was when he was leaving his road was when you caught a glimpse of someone in the passenger side, a woman to be specific. She was messing with the radio like she'd done it a million times before.

It wasn't until someone honked behind you that you realized that you still sitting at the stop sign. You turned off your turn signal and went straight instead.

"Are we there yet, Mommy?" Rhiannon asked, curious. You at her in the rearview mirror and said, trying to keep the tears from falling, "I think we're going to go to the park instead, is that okay?"

She nodded and them asked, "What about your friend? Is your friend coming to the park too?"

"No honey, somethin' came up, and they can't make it this time."

"Otay, Mommy."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Mat 'n cheese, Mommy!" Rhiannon said excitedly whenever she got her kid's menu and started coloring. You smiled back to her, "Yes baby, you can have mac 'n cheese."

After you both got your food, Rhiannon was eating her mac n' cheese with her fork, sloppily but it was getting the job done.

You started thinking.

Two weeks ago that you and him. Riding down back roads, and singing along to the radio. Well, more like you were singing to the radio.

As you were thinking, you looked around and noticed that people were looking at you and whispering.

You're just being paranoid. You thought to yourself.

You heard 'Billy' whispered with your name along with someone else's name that you couldn't quite hear. You decided that it was time to go.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Billy called you to hang out, that was when you got some answers.

"I don't know Billy, I've been kinda busy and want to stay in with my daughter tonight," you told him.

"But we haven't see each other in weeks. I just miss my girl."

"Am I though?"

Billy paused, "What?"

"Am I your girl?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I saw you with another girl when I was going to bring my daughter over for her to meet you. A few days later, I heard people talkin' about us at the diner."

"Baby, I'm sorry, I forgot that we had that planned! My sister needed a ride to-"

You cut him off, "Just tell me, do you still want me to be in your life or not. That's all I want to know."

He was quiet for a second. The he spoke up, "Can I just have a little time to think and make sure that I'm ready to give you everything I have?"

You nodded your head, "Yes. When your ready, I'll be here. Just...keep in touch too. I still care about you. I'll see you later, okay?"

He gave you a long hug and then you left. Not exactly happy with the result but it was a start to something hopefully.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Let's see, what kinda cereal should we get?"

"Hmmmm, Toast Cwunch!" Rhiannon said excitedly. You both were in the store getting groceries for the week.

"Perfect choice baby girl!" you said excitedly with her, and put the box in the cart. You pushed the cart to move down the aisle and Rhiannon shouted, "Onwawd!"

While looking down the pasta aisle you spotted a familiar head of hair, a strawberry blond mullet, with a familiar denim jacket on his shoulders. You smiled and waited for him to turn around so you could wave at him, but as he did, you saw he was holding hands with another woman, that was not his sister.

You quickly backed out of the aisle. It was time to have the talk about you guys.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You just put Rhiannon to bed and was watching TV while eating popcorn, when there was a knock on your door. You got up from your spot on the couch and answered the door.

There stood Billy leaning against the doorway, looking up at you with his charming smile that worked on you when you first started dating.

"Hey (Y/N), I missed you."

"Hi Billy, come in," you let him in and close the door behind you. You stand in the middle of the living room with your arms crossed, "How've you been?"

"Good, I've been meaning to call you and take you out," he said with his 'charming' smile again, now that smile just made you mad.

"Just been a bit...busy?" you asked with a little venom dripping in your voice.

"Yeah...a little busy," he looked at you for a second after picking up on your voice, "How about you?"

"Who was the girl that you were with in the grocery store the other day?" you asked out of nowhere. You could see that he was taken aback.

He didn't know that you saw him.

"I was with my cousin."

"Oh, really? You hold hands with your cousins?"

He threw his head back, and you said, "Just tell me what you really want. You wanted time and space, so I backed off and let you have that. I didn't think that it meant movin' along. So if you are callin' someone else baby just tell me. Bein' in the dark is drivin' me crazy and I just need to know."

He looked at you like he didn't know what to say.

"Look, it'll be what it will be, it's either her or me. Give me the word and you can be free and I'll leave you alone. If you're over me, just lay it on me. Just rip the Band-Aid off. So...are you seein' someone else?"

He looked away and quietly said, "Yes. I am."

"Okay. That's all I needed to know. Thank you. I'll see you around Billy," you said in monotone voice and opened the door for him and he walked out. He looked back once and then walked to his car and left.

You closed the door as he left, you sighed as you sat down on the couch. That's when you let the tears flow.

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 9

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: We’ve made it, friends. 🥹 But stay tuned, I have a special announcement after the end of this chapter.~

Word Count: 4.1K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 9: A Choice to Make

There was a man in your bed.

You were pleased to discover that, although your kidnapping of two days ago hadn’t been a dream, being held warm and secure in someone’s arms this morning wasn’t either.

After slowly blinking awake, you looked up from a familiar freckled shoulder to find Beau’s peaceful face. His hair was a floppy mess, his mouth parted in sleep. It made you smile.

His arm was heavy around your waist. It was nice, but you contemplated how you were going to get over to the bathroom and freshen up; maybe fix your hair, brush your teeth, put a little makeup on…

You were careful in how you grasped his hand. You were about to try and peel his arm off without waking him.

“If my alarm hasn’t gone off, means it ain’t morning yet,” Beau rumbled with his eyes still closed.

You stifled a laugh, but you tried again to pull his arm away. He held you to him tighter.

“Where you think you’re goin’?” he asked. His southern drawl was thicker when he was sleepy.

You giggled lightly and rested back against his bare chest in defeat.

“Was gonna try and fix myself up a little, before you saw me in the raw light of day,” you confessed.

You’d caught a glimpse of the yellowing bruise on your cheek last night in the bathroom mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. You weren’t really sure how Beau could see past it.

But at your words, Beau finally cracked his eyes open. He made a show of glancing up and down your body, clad in just your black silk camisole. He couldn’t see the rest of you under the blankets, but what he did see, he liked quite a lot—aside from the parts of you that were still healing.  

“You look just right to me,” he remarked, tugging at a strand of your wild, likely knotted hair. “Damn beautiful too.”

Your smile of amusement grew, along with your blush. 

“Flatterer,” you accused. Though you rolled off his arm, fearing you were cutting off his circulation. You moved onto his chest instead, where he held you by your waist and you rested your head over his steady-beating heart.

“Nope. That’s the truth, darlin’,” he said, with a deep sigh. You didn’t see the way his eyes closed in contentment. He knew he’d have to get back into work today, not to mention check on Emily and Carla. For now though, he could focus on this. On you.

“Where do we go from here?” you asked. It was a mere whisper against his skin, but he heard you just fine. It was a good question.

“Eggs or pancakes?” he posed.

You smiled, but you shoved at his shoulder.

“You know what I mean,” you said wryly.

Beau’s resulting deep breath raised you as well. He nodded, brushing your hair back away from your face. You pushed up enough to look up at him.

He gave you a quirking smile.

“I want this to stick,” he admitted. “I wanna take you on a proper date and make it official.”

You smiled back at him. “I’d like that.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “We’re in agreement.”

But you didn’t realize that anything official would take more time than either of you thought. 

Two weeks later, you returned to the precinct with another basket, this one full of snickerdoodle cookies for the whole squad. Poppernak was especially excited when you handed them over to him.

Beau must’ve heard your voice, because he came out of his office to greet you with a broad smile.

“Well, hey there,” he said. You went to him with a smile of your own, but you waited until he’d led you into his office by the small of your back.

Once he shut the door behind him, he pulled you close by the waist and greeted you with a proper kiss. You didn’t even mind the scratch of his beard against your chin. You just caressed his cheek and met him with as much as he gave.

But all too soon, the kiss dimmed to embers, your lips parting softly from his. He thumbed at your cheek.

“To what do I owe this little visit?” he asked.

“Nothing really,” you said. He sat on the edge of his desk, and you followed him, standing between his legs. His hand stayed comfortable on your hip. You toyed with the top button near his collar.

“Fall semester is starting up in a couple of weeks. I don’t have too much of the summer left,” you said. “I’m trying to be ready but…I don’t know.”

You were a bit nervous about it. After the ordeal of this past month, you’d started seeing a therapist to work through some of that trauma. Sometimes you had nightmares, found it hard to focus on things during the day. You worried that it would affect your work once your classes started up.

Beau knew what that thinly veiled worry in your eyes meant; you’d confided in him after your first therapy session a few days ago. He had been supportive, and even somewhat open to your suggestion that he see a professional himself, for the things he still held deep inside.

“The rocky summer’s almost over,” he encouraged, squeezing your hip. “You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”

You thanked him with a smile, though your fingers became more gripping on his shirt.

“There is something else that’s kinda bothering me,” you said.

Beau grabbed your hand and held it. “What’s that?”

You leveled him with a knowing look.

“I’m just curious on what we’re doing exactly,” you said. “Considering you still haven’t asked me out ‘officially official.’”

Beau’s lips pressed together with a guilty sort of smile.

“Okay, yes, I’ve been working on that,” he said. 

You laughed incredulously. “What’s to work on? It’s a simple question. I promise you, I have a simple answer.”

“But it’s not quite that simple,” he said. That made you pause, along with the sobered look on his face. You slipped your hand out of his and crossed your arms.

“What do you mean, Beau?” you asked.

He grasped your arms gently and let out a deep breath.

“Okay. I just talked with Carla last night,” he said.

It wasn’t a great way to kick things off if he wanted to reassure you. He seemed to know that, and so he spoke quickly.

“After everything that’s happened, she’s thinking of selling the house and taking Emily back to Houston,” he said.

Your face fell with shock. You laid a hand on his chest; to steady him or yourself, you didn’t know which.

“Oh wow,” you uttered.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He dragged a hand over his mouth. You had a feeling this news had been keeping him up at night.

But, you had to voice a thought that began to make your stomach churn with unease.

“Are you…would you move back too?” you asked.

Beau met your gaze with a conflicted one of his own.

“Besides the fact that I got a lot of ghosts in Houston, there are important reasons why I should stay. Why I want to stay,” he said. He picked up your hand again and held it with both of his. “But I also want and need to be there for my daughter.”

You nodded, even as tears burned in your eyes. You knew how hard this time was for Emily right now. What she needed was stability. She needed her father.

“I don’t know what to do here,” Beau admitted.

It was hard, but you breathed through your upset and tried to reign in your tears. You met his gaze and squeezed his hand back.

“You know what I want,” you said, “but you need to do what you think is best. Both for Emily, and for yourself.”

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” he said.

You shook your head. “It might not be, but that’s where we are.”

Your eyes fell to your joined hands, until Beau propped a finger under your chin, guiding your face back up to his. He gave you a kiss that was supposed to be sweet, and comforting.

He only succeeded for the moment.

“Oh God, it’s like I don’t even know you!” you exclaimed. Though you were still laughing.

Beau raised a finger in protest. “Hey, I stand by pineapple on pizza—”

“Alone, Dad. You stand alone,” Emily said. She had a recorder app going on her phone, placed between the three of you in your living room. This marked Episode 1 of her podcast, and already it was going off the rails.

“It ain’t that bad. That’s all I’m saying,” he laughed, holding up placating hands. “Pizza is pizza.”

“Said the human garbage disposal,” you smirked. “Where do you put that one, in your second or third stomach?”

“Nah, the fourth one,” he said, patting said stomach. “It’s got the most room. Very handy at a buffet. Or at Donno’s diner when he puts out the weekly specials.”

You laughed. Beau grinned. Emily made a face of disgust.

“Okay, gross,” she said. “Moving on to the next question.”

“How many you got there anyway?” Beau asked, reaching for the piece of paper she’d printed off with all of these “Questions for Couples.” He’d caught sight of a few spicy ones on there that he’d rather not be asked by his daughter, let alone put on record.

Emily snatched the paper away before he could take it from her.

“Okay, next. What’s the first thing you noticed about each other when you met?” she read off.

You and Beau glanced at each other with curious smiles. That was something neither of you had talked about just yet.

“How about for you?” Emily directed her question at you first. You blinked wider eyes.

“Oh! Um…” you trailed. Beau crossed his arms, adopting a sly, expectant smile. You bit your lip to avoid laughing in embarrassment.

“Okay, well, as you know, we met on that camping trip. If I remember right, I saw him from behind first,” you recalled.

“Liked what you saw, huh?” he teased. You laughed and tried not to blush in embarrassment.

“I noticed how tall he was. I wondered if a mountain man was coming to join us,” you quipped. Beau’s smile kicked up a notch. “But it wasn’t until he turned around, and I saw his handsome face…for me, it was his eyes.”

You were a bit bashful to admit that, but when you looked over at Beau, said handsome face had softened a touch. His hand snuck behind you to settle at the curve of your waist, stroking a thumb along your back.

“And for you, Dad?” Emily asked.

You shot him an expectant look. Beau cleared his throat, looking between his daughter and back to you. Then his smile returned.

“Well, I noticed right off the bat that she was beautiful, of course.”

“Good answer,” Emily nodded, laughing a little. You couldn’t help blushing.

Beau slipped his hand off your waist to come up and brush your cheek instead.

“For me though, it was her smile that did me in,” he said. “She looked up at me, and I uh…yeah. That got me. Was thinking about her for a while after Cassie and I left the camp.”

With that admission, you found yourself melting further. You looked down at your folded hands in your lap, trying to save face, but Beau wouldn’t have it. He took one of your hands in his, brought it up to his lips, and pressed a kiss over your knuckles, making your face warm up further.

Emily watched you both in amusement. She smirked at the next question listed on the page.

“Okay, who pays on dates? Is it Dad every time?” she asked.

Your expression turned dry as you glanced at Beau.

“Well, I wouldn’t know, considering we haven’t been on a real date yet,” you remarked. 

Beau gave a tight smile.

“All right,” he said. “Next question, please.”

A couple of days later, you crossed paths with Carla by chance while you were getting office supplies. She was getting moving boxes. There was a stack of them in her cart.

After exchanging some painful small talk, you heeded a gut instinct that had you offering to buy her lunch. So the two of you went to a café in the same plaza, where you each had a sandwich and fries.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Carla smiled, taking another fry. “You mean can you ask me something uncomfortable?”

You stifled an awkward laugh. She really was a good lawyer.

“Yeah, that,” you said.

“Sure,” she replied.

You stared back at her for a moment, steeling yourself. You both knew what this was about to be. It was a conversation weeks in the making, but it didn’t make it any easier to begin.

You decided to peel off the Band-Aid.

“Do you still love him?” you asked. You knew you didn’t have to specify whom. Carla sighed and set down her iced tea.

“In a way,” she replied. “I’ll always care about Beau, and I want him to be happy, I do. This has all just been…too much.”

“I understand that,” you said.  

Carla hid it well, but there was pain behind her eyes as she looked away. Your heart broke for her a bit. She’d barely been remarried a year before this hellish summer uprooted her entire life.

Now she and her daughter were living in a big empty house that was meant to be for three. Carla had just finished telling you about her plans to sell it, but that also implied that she and Emily were moving.

“Part of this is my fault, I know,” said Carla. “I’m the one who married a man like Avery—”

You gently stopped her with a hand on her wrist. You met her gaze with empathy.

“What he did, and what happened after, that wasn’t your fault,” you said. “I know what it’s like to be with a man who lies.”

It took her a moment, but Carla accepted that with a slow nod. You took your hand back, and once again, you tried to gain your courage to dive into deeper waters.

“I also understand that you have to do what you feel is right for Emily, but…”

Carla met you with a more wry tilt of her head. “Let me guess. You don’t think we should leave Montana?”

Your gaze fell. “I know it’s not really my place to say—”

“And if it was?” she countered.

Your lips pressed together. Well, if she wanted to hear your opinion, then she would have it.

“Look, Carla, I was with Emily through the worst of it,” you said. “I know very well what she’s been through. But another out-of-state move when she’d just started getting acclimated, possibly separating her from her father, is that the right call?”

“You’re assuming Beau would stay. For you?” Carla asked. Her words were pointed. Sharp enough to cut you.

“I won’t lie. I don’t want to lose him…but despite his responsibilities here as Sheriff, I suspect he might leave if you asked him to. If it was for his daughter,” you said. Letting out a breath, you looked down at your folded hands on the table. “I love Emily. I want him to do what’s right for her. But selfishly, I want him to take care of himself too.”

Carla considered that, and you, with a nod.

The two of you continued sipping your iced teas for a while in silence.

When you asked for the check, the server informed you that Carla had already paid for it.

The woman gave you a parting smile before she left. You weren’t sure if she’d done it to treat you, or just to win.

That same night, Carla invited Beau over for dinner with her and Emily. It was pizza Friday, like they used to do as a family.

It was familiar, but different now.

They all were different.

Carla asked them to join her in the living room afterwards, with Emily sitting in a lounge chair while her parents sat on the couch. Beau wasn’t sure what Carla was up to, but he was going along with it.

She took in a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap, and focused on her daughter.

“Em, I need to ask you something.”

The girl looked confused, and a little apprehensive at this point.

“O-kay…”

“I know this past month has been…hard for all of us,” said Carla. “Especially for you, sweetheart.”

She took Emily’s hand.

“You know I think it’s best that we go back to Houston,” said Carla. Emily dimmed at that, and her mother could see it. It pained Carla inside to come to a realization…

“But, I think maybe I made that decision for me, not for you,” she said. She had to blink back the sting of tears. “So, what I’m asking is, do you want to go…or do you want to stay here in Montana?”

Beau glanced over at his ex-wife in surprise. He’d never known Carla to change her mind on anything. But now, now he had hope.

He tried not to show any of that to his daughter though. This was up to her now, and he would support whatever she said next.

“R-Really? I get to choose?” Emily asked. She had the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she looked between her parents. 

Carla nodded, attempting a smile through her own tears. “Yes. I, and I’m sure your father, want to do what’s best for you here. What do you want to do?”

Emily considered the question. Yeah, she missed her friends back at school in Houston. They still texted and kept in touch through social media all the time, but she knew it wasn’t the same.

She hadn’t been happy about moving to Montana at first…but after meeting Cassie and Denise, helping them with their cases—it made Emily feel like she was doing work that mattered. That something she did really, truly mattered, and would help people. That was a cool feeling.

Also, she’d met you. She’d begun to find a kind of older sister in you. Someone who encouraged her projects and her creative side without thinking it was too weird, or too annoying. And of course, she could see what you meant to her dad now.

Besides all that though, she just had this gut feeling. Like going back to Houston would be like going backwards.

Emily’s lower lip wobbled. She tried to stop it, but her emotions bubbled over.

“I like it here,” she admitted. “I…I want to stay.”

Beau welcomed his daughter over into a warm hug between them on the couch. Carla rubbed her back and nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “Then we’ll do that.”

They stayed like that for a while. Until eventually, the teen wanted to go back to editing her podcast. She was getting a hang of the editing software, and she wanted to post it online by the end of the week.

“Okay, but I want to hear the final cut before that gets released into cyberspace,” Beau called after her when she ran off into her room.

Carla shook her head and wiped her face dry.

“I still can’t believe you let her record you,” she said with a laugh.

“You and me both,” Beau admitted. If you hadn’t cajoled him into it, he probably wouldn’t have.

And the thought of you had him smiling to himself, more warmly. He’d couldn’t wait to call you…but no, this was something he should tell you in person. He turned to Carla.

“You’re sure about this? About staying?” he asked.

She nodded with a sigh. “We’ll just downsize to a smaller house. Though I will need you to keep sharing more of the custody responsibilities with Emily, presuming you’re able to get out of that trailer of yours.”

Beau wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with his trailer (sure, it was a bit small. They’d been managing just fine). But as to not look a gift horse-in-the-mouth, all he did was nod in agreement.

“I’ll work on that,” he said.

“Thank you. Beau, I’m grateful for you,” Carla said. Her eyes were honest. “You gave me our daughter. And I’m glad you’ve gotten better, that you’ve been able to work through some of your issues. I think your girlfriend has had something to do with that.”

A smile quirked at Beau’s lips, and he nodded.

“That she has,” he said.

After his shift the following day, Beau met you at the end of your painting lesson at the local art studio. Everyone was starting to pack up their painting supplies. He managed to come up from behind and surprise you.

He tapped you on one shoulder, but appeared on your other side, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He laughed in light of your gasp.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted.

You narrowed your eyes at him in amusement.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied. “Good timing! I just finished.”

While you gathered up your supplies, Beau admired your latest painting that was still drying on the canvas. He whistled lowly.

It was a landscape of Mount Helena. There was mist near its mountain peaks, and dense trees at its base, and wide plains of green, dotted by a couple of horses ranging free.

You swiveled toward him in your chair and looked up at him with a smile. The same one that caught his eye when he met you.

“After everything, everything, I don’t regret coming here,” you said. Your voice shook a little, and your eyes shone with emotion. You stood from your seat and slipped your hand into his. “This is still the place where I got the courage to start over. And it’s where I met you.”

Beau’s face softened.

“So no matter what you decide to do,” you said, “I won’t ever regret knowing you, Beau Arlen.”

His own smile crinkled the corners of his eyes then. He swept a gentle thumb across your cheek.

“I came to tell you that Carla and Emily are staying in Montana,” he said. “So am I.”

You sucked in a trembling breath. Your tears bubbled over and fell, but his hands were there to catch them, framing your face.

“But aside from all that,” he said, with a note of humor gleaming in his eyes. “I’d really, really, like to ask you out to dinner tonight. Call it ‘officially official.’”

You laughed and smiled so bright. You nodded and let him pull you into a warm embrace. He just surprised you by hefting you into his arms next. You yelped and clung to his shoulders.

Your art instructor, as well as a couple of lesson goers remaining in the studio, clapped and whooped and laughed at the way he started carrying you towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, go back! My stuff!” you said, gesturing at your workstation.

Beau graciously backed up so you could grab your bag of paint supplies and your canvas from the easel. It was a little awkward, but you both laughed as he tried to angle you out the door of the studio. He started walking you down the sidewalk.

“Where’re you taking me? My car’s that way,” you pointed in the opposite direction.

“I believe I asked you to dinner,” said Beau, with a teasing grin. “I don’t wanna waste no time.”

You wanted to point out that your hands were stained with paint, and you weren’t dressed for a date in your jeans and plain sweater, and this wasn’t exactly what you meant by asking you out…but maybe you didn’t need a “color-coded list” for everything.

Maybe you could let yourself be a little spontaneous for once.

“Okay, Beau,” you breathed a laugh, and rested your head on his shoulder. “Take me wherever you want.”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he said slyly. He kissed your forehead. “I’ve got plans for you.”

When he reached the passenger side of his truck, he set you down on your feet. He unlocked it and held the door open while you set down your things. You pivoted on your heel and grabbed the front of his shirt, so you could pull him down to you for a kiss.

He tasted like the promise of good days to come.

AN: And there we have it, friends. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed the ride on this series. I've had so much fun exploring Beau and this version of him and the reader. I hope you'll let me know what you think of the finale here. 💓

But, their story's not quite over yet.

Read the Sequel: A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

▶️ Keep Reading: A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,954

Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.

A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.

“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”

“Kento!”

“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”

“Right—”

“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”

“Squirt—?”

The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.

“You’re a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”

That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.

If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.

Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.

If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!

“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”

Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.

“Answer, answer god, please.”

He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.

Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.

“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”

You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.

While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.

“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”

Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Yeah, can I please?”

“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”

As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.

Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.

“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.

Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.

‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’

Vagina?

‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.

“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!

Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.

“Oh my god! Stop!”

“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.

“Stop it!”

“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”

You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.

“It’s not bad—”

“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”

The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.

The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.

Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”

“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”

It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.

“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”

Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.

“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”

Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.

“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”

Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.

“You want me to make you cum?”

“P-Please.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.

Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.

Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.

“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.

Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.

The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.

“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.

With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.

Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.

“S-Suguru—”

“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.

“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.

Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.

“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.

The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.

“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”

“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”

“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”

“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.

“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”

“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”

His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’

Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?

As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.

“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”

Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.

“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”

“Okay! Um! Let's start.”

You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!

But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.

“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”

“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”

Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.

“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”

In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.

“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”

With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.

Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.

While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”

Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.

Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.

“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.

Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.

“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.

“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“

“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.

You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.

Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.

“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”

“Awesome!”

After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.

As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.

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