#also posting a one shot here today too!
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It's a good day to be a youngblood lmao (click click <)
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i have no clue how to rip game files so you'll have to excuse recorded in-game audio blood splatter sounds and all but. erm. it makes a cute sound ok?
#sorry everybody it's 3 am so it's time to post random bullshit#<not bullshit to me. to me it's very important. sentries are my favorite machines from act 2 i love them so so much#swordsm beeps whatever. when will we talk about sentry hm?#i had no idea you can even stun them. i shot one's antenna today in cybergrind by accident and was like hey!!!! what was that noise....#and they have a fun animation if they get stunned but i couldn't get a good angle to like. make it into a gif or something#aaaand i also like how they kick you 50 million meters if you get too close. get the fuck ouuta here!!!!#also their article has a reference to engie!<me when somebody makes a reference to an insanely popular multiplayer fps
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No One Should Be Alone On Christmas
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❅ summary: Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.
❅ pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader
❅ word count: 6.1k
❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 modern au!, reader and nanami are strangers, one-night stand (?), nanami in a turtleneck sweater because why not??, use of alcohol, christmas market date, big mac and cinnamon rolls (yeah i was hungry while writing), use of pet names, mentioning of loneliness, kissing, neck kissing, nipple play, fingering, slow sex that turns rough, mating press, protected sex, mentioning unprotected sex, dominant nanami, also thoughtful nanami (yey)
❅ a little note: hello everyone with my new christmas-themed story! i was supposed to post it last sunday, but since i just got back from a trip and was very tired, i could only post it today. i think it’s a sweet yet spicy one-shot. enjoy!
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“And that was the ridiculous mugging incident I experienced during my first week in Tokyo,” you chuckled to yourself, the effects of alcohol making everything seem funnier. You finished the last sip of beer left in your glass in one go.
You were drunk. Seriously drunk.
Maybe getting some McDonald’s would help. At least it might clear your head, because right now, loneliness and unhappiness were clouding your ability to make rational decisions.
Spending Christmas Eve alone at a bar, drinking beer, and recounting your Tokyo adventures to a bartender who clearly didn’t care wasn’t part of your plans. Christmas had always been a warm and happy time you spent with your loved ones. But now, all you could feel was dizziness and a coldness you couldn’t explain.
You glanced at the time on your phone lying next to the empty beer glass. It was 8 PM. If you were lucky, maybe you’d find an open McDonald’s.
That is, if you could even manage to get up in your current state.
“Hey, uhmm… is there a McDonald’s nearby?” you slurred, somehow managing to form a coherent sentence as you directed your question to the bartender, who had been your reluctant companion for the past hour.
The bartender handed the cocktail glass he’d prepared to a server before turning to you with little enthusiasm. “I doubt it.”
“That’s ridiculous! McDonald’s is everywhere,” you retorted, anger bubbling up from your hunger.
The bartender seemed amused by your drunken indignation, letting out a low chuckle. “Maybe Tokyo, the city of your dreams, doesn’t have one after all.”
“Wait did you actually listen to me?” you asked, frowning at him because every sentence you told him was about how much you love and wanted to come to Tokyo.
“I got bored while making drinks and found listening to the silly stories of someone spending Christmas Eve alone kind of entertaining, I guess.”
“You’re rude,” you muttered, resting your head in your hands.
“And you’re lonely.”
“Alright, enough humiliation! Sure, I’m spending Christmas Eve alone, but you’re here making drinks and listening to a drunk woman ramble on. Ha! Got you! You’re just as lonely as I am.” Triumphant, you raised your head, only to lose your balance and tip backward. You were absolutely sure you were about to hit the floor, but instead, your back collided with something hard.
Maybe it was the backrest of the barstool?
Relieved, you exhaled deeply and turned around with a grin. “Well, if it weren’t for this backr—” Your words cut off mid-sentence because the thing that stopped your fall wasn’t the nonexistent backrest of the stool but a tall, broad figure dressed in black.
And it had blond hair. A truly stunning shade of blond.
The man in black was staring at you with a completely blank expression. It was almost as if he pitied you, but his face gave nothing away.
He shifted his gaze from your face and handed a card to the bartender. “I drank my usual,” he said.
The bartender took the card with a serious nod. “Yes, sir.” He clearly knew who this man was.
By now, you’d stopped leaning against the solid figure that had kept you from falling. Sitting upright on the stool, you realized you desperately needed to eat something and sober up. You reached into your bag to grab your card to pay.
But just as you were about to hand it to the bartender, the velvety voice of the man who had caught you made you turn your head.
“Please add the lady’s drinks to my tab,” he said.
The bartender glanced at the man and then at you, surprised, but didn’t protest as he added your drinks to the total. You stared at the man, trying to process what had just happened.
The blond-haired man was still watching you, his expression unchanging. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he pitied you again. After all, you were a woman spending Christmas Eve alone in a bar, drunk, and nearly cracking your head open on the marble floor. With all that combined, it was probably easy to see you as a pathetic, lonely soul in need of help.
The slight burning sensation in your eyes made it clear that tears were threatening to spill. And they did, quietly running down your cheeks. You didn’t even know why you felt so terrible. Spending Christmas Eve alone wasn’t that bad. You weren’t the only one doing it. Even the bartender, who you thought hadn’t been listening to you, probably was. And the other people quietly nursing their drinks in the bar were in the same boat.
And maybe even the blond-haired man who had stopped you from falling.
But right now, all you wanted was to build snowmen with your family, a tradition you’d done every Christmas Eve.
Screw it. Who wanted to be alone on Christmas?
Grabbing your coat and bag from the stool beside you, you muttered, “I’m sorry,” to the man before stumbling toward the door. The cold air hit your face as you stepped outside, making you scrunch your nose. It helped clear your head a little. You were about to pull out your phone to find the nearest McDonald’s when you realized it wasn’t in your bag.
Perfect. Your dramatic exit was now a complete failure.
Quickly wiping the tears from your face, you were about to turn back toward the bar when the door opened, and the blond-haired man emerged, looking concerned. His expression softened when he saw you. You, on the other hand, were standing there with mascara likely smeared all over your face.
He approached you quickly. “Excuse me, you forgot your phone,” he said, handing it to you.
You sniffled, your cold nose stinging, and looked at him gratefully through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you so much. I—I… Oh, God…” And just like that, you broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably.
The scene was so humiliating you wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. A stranger had saved you from falling, paid your tab, brought you your phone, and now had to watch you cry like a child because of your stupid Christmas loneliness.
And here you were, crying again.
Covering your face with your hands, you tried to hide from him. All you wanted was to find that damn McDonald’s, eat until you were stuffed, and go back to your tiny but beloved one-bedroom apartment to bake cinnamon rolls.
“Forgive me for asking, but are you okay, miss? If you’re feeling unwell, I could take you home. Or, if you prefer, I can call a cab,” his soft voice said, breaking through your sobs.
You lowered your hands to look at him, sniffling a few more times. The blond man had a slight accent. His Japanese was fluent, but the words carried a subtle difference in tone. It was strangely captivating. And it wasn’t just his voice that was impressive—his face and build made him almost ridiculously perfect. You’d noticed his face briefly in the bar, but now you could fully appreciate it.
And yet, how could anyone be this nice? Of course you shouldn’t trust him immediately. For all you knew, he could be one of Tokyo’s most wanted criminals. With his black turtleneck, matching coat, and slacks, he had a slight “mob boss” vibe. The glasses softened his sharp features a bit, but actually, no—they made him look even more severe. Still, his previously stoic expression had faded. Now, there was a mix of concern and pity on his face.
You didn’t want his pity. No one wanted to be pitied. But maybe, just maybe, you could use it to feel a little better.
After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sniffled again and said, “I’m just… really hungry.”
The blond man responded to your honest statement with a smile, which only made things worse. How could he be even more handsome now?
“Alright, I know a good place. Would you like me to take you there? Don’t worry, I'll just take you there,” he said, his voice as gentle as ever.
Accepting his offer didn’t seem like a bad idea. If you ate something, you’d sober up and fill your empty stomach. The only problem was that you didn’t want to do it alone. Sure, this guy might be Tokyo’s top serial killer, but even killers didn’t commit crimes on Christmas Eve, right?
“Do you like McDonald’s?” you asked, though you doubted it. Looking at his impeccable physique, he probably only ate the healthiest foods imaginable. But you’d already made your offer.
The blond man’s smile widened, and his answer made your heart skip a beat. “I’m sure there’s one nearby.”
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“You’re really hungry.”
Your eyes drifted to the blond-haired man as you bit into your second Big Mac. You were absolutely delighted. You’d managed to find a McDonald’s just a ten-minute walk away (take that, bartender!) and had ordered two Big Macs, two large fries, and an iced tea. The man across from you hadn’t ordered anything. No matter how much you insisted, he said he wasn’t hungry. When he tried to pay for your meal, you’d grabbed yhis wrist and said, “Unless you want me to throw up on you, put your card away.”
He was bigger than you and would probably win if it came to a fight, but you could handle paying for your own food. Sure, it was nice of him to be so polite, but this was a bit much.
“Yooh. I loveee Bog Moc,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, trying to speak as best as you could. It was definitely not respectful, but you’d already cried enough and embarrassed yourself in front of this guy.
The blond-haired man laughed at your attempt to speak. “I’m glad. I hope I’m not bothering you?” he asked casually, folding his arms across his chest.
You swallowed your bite and wiped your mouth with a napkin. “Not at all! If I felt uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have invited you.” You took a sip of your iced tea. “Though, I did wonder if you were a serial killer on the most-wanted list.”
You must’ve genuinely amused him because he threw his head back and laughed. That deep, masculine sound was more beautiful than any song you’d ever heard. This man did everything with elegance.
Unlike you.
He unfolded his arms and rested them on the table. The sleeves of his sweater pushed up slightly, giving you a brief but glorious view of his veiny forearms.
Now you were even hungrier. And this wasn’t a hunger another Big Mac could satisfy. You needed those arms. You needed to taste how strong they were. If you were lucky, maybe you’d get to feel the pleasure of his fingers inside your vagina.
In your wet and swollen vagina.
“Who knows, maybe I am. But if I were, why would you invite me to come along?”
“I thought about it and decided no killer would be boring enough to commit murder on Christmas Eve.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “You’re right. At this moment, I’d rather watch a crying woman devour hamburgers than deal with bloody, tedious business.”
You paused mid-sip of your drink, your face falling at his words.
He must’ve noticed because he immediately looked concerned. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh… As you can see, I’m not great at that.”
But he had made you laugh. The fact that he thought he’d upset you was actually funny. “Do you want to know why I was crying?”
“If it won’t upset you, then yes.” As he spoke, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. That small gesture was enough to make your heart race at 500 beats per second. It was a suspiciously intimate act for someone you’d only known for an hour, but you didn’t think he was trying to seduce you.
“I moved to Tokyo a month ago for a job offer. While moving to the city of your dreams is exciting, there are so many things I miss. I might have a great job, and small apartment which I love but being away from my family and friends is so hard. I know it might sound silly, but I miss them. And this is the time of year I want to be with them the most. Instead, I’m sitting here with a sexy man who still hasn’t told me whether or not he’s a serial killer.” You realized you’d said the word “sexy” only after finishing your sentence, and to cover up the embarrassment of your slip-up, you quickly stuffed a fry in your mouth.
“While I appreciate you saying I’m not bothering you, the fact that you said I’m a sexy stranger who could be a serial killer is truly…” He paused, searching for the right word. “…honorable.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re not bad company. I just miss them. Right now, I’d probably be having a snowman-making contest with them and baking cinnamon rolls afterward. My dad is the best at that. He owns a little bakery in my hometown. I try to beat him every year, but I think some things just come down to talent.” As the memories flooded your mind, you shook your head and took a big sip of your drink.
“That sounds wonderful,” he said, looking like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he added, “I’m Japanese, but my maternal grandfather is Danish. I grew up and studied there. Like you, I moved to Japan last month for work.”
“Wow, we really have the same story. What company do you work for?”
“Nanami Structures.”
Your eyes widened at the name. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”
“Yes… Why?”
“The advertising agency I work for is doing their new campaign! We even have a meeting with the owner after New Year’s. Of course, I’ll just be there to take notes. Everything was already planned before I joined them.”
“Then this must be a nice coincidence.”
“Definitely! So, what do you do there?”
The blond man hesitated for a few seconds before answering. “I’m an architect.”
“Cool.”
“Thank you. Anyway, the point I wanted to make is that I go through the same struggles as you. I’ve always worked away from my family and only get to see them once a year at best. Still, I make sure to call them every Christmas morning, and they always show me our dog Takuma in his latest Christmas costume.”
“That’s adorable. There’s nothing cuter than dogs in costumes! Especially if they’re dressed as elves.”
“That was last year. My guess for this year is a reindeer costume.”
“If you keep talking, my heart is going to burst from how cute this is.” The two of you laughed, and you realized how much better you felt talking to this stranger. As you finished your fries, it hit you that while you now knew the name of his dog, he still hadn’t told you his own name.
Excitedly, you asked, “Okay, you might be on a most-wanted list, but can you at least tell me your name? Don't worry! I won't tell anyone. I’m just tired of calling you the man with the nice arms and the limp.”
“You think my arms and limp are nice?” He raised a brow, giving you a questioning look.
Apparently, the alcohol was still in your system because you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
He responded with that deep, masculine laughter again. “You can call me Ken.”
“Ken… Honestly, that suits you. You look like a Ken doll.” You extended your hand to him, telling your name. He shook your hand with his large, soft one.
“For someone who draws all day, your hands and fingers are surprisingly soft.”
He glanced at his fingers. “I take good care of them. After all, I need them to keep people satisfied.”
That statement could be interpreted in three ways:
1. He’s an architect who creates designs to impress people.
2. He uses those hands to satisfy partners in bed until they’re utterly spent.
3. Both of the above.
It was probably the first, but your slightly aroused brain was leaning toward the second… or maybe the third.
“I’d be very happy if you told me the cream you use,” you stammered, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment.
“Gladly. If you’re done eating, how about we get some cinnamon rolls?”
Surprised by his suggestion, you asked, “Do you think we can find some? Most places are closed on Christmas Eve. Even this place will close in an hour.” Your original plan had been to bake them at home, but inviting him over seemed too forward. He might have a girlfriend or even a wife. Heck, maybe he even had kids. Okay, probably not a wife or girlfriend—he wouldn’t be spending time with another woman alone if he did. But the kids were still a question mark.
While he offered to find cinnamon rolls, you were mentally drafting his backstory like a TV drama. How ethical was that?
“There’s a Christmas market near where I live, and I saw some on sale earlier,” he said.
You immediately stood up, grabbing your coat and bag. “How far is it?”
Ken laughed, standing and guiding you toward the McDonald’s exit with a hand lightly resting on your back. “Not far, don’t worry.”
It seemed this Christmas Eve wasn’t turning out so bad after all.
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The cinnamon rolls were absolutely delicious. Maybe they weren’t as good as your dad’s, but they were definitely better than the ones you made.
“I don’t know why we didn’t meet earlier,” you said, taking another bite of your cinnamon roll. “If we had, I’m sure we’d be great friends. I’d probably come to this market every day, too!”
Ken laughed as he watched you. “I think we would’ve been great friends, too. And since you eat so much, I’d have made a workout program just for you.”
By the time you’d left McDonald’s and arrived here, you’d talked about so many things. The conversation continued while you searched for a place to sit and as you devoured the cinnamon rolls. Ken might have appeared to be a stern person, but after spending this time with him, you were certain he wasn’t a serial killer. Also, as you had guessed (unlike you), he was one of the healthiest eaters you’d ever met. And after your mini TED Talk on your love for food, he seemed determined to convert you to the joys of a healthy lifestyle.
“Hold it right there, big guy. I’m perfectly happy with my body.”
Ken’s eyes instinctively roamed over your body. You weren’t wearing anything particularly eye-catching—just a white sweater and jeans. But even so, his gaze lingered on you with undeniable appreciation.
You wondered if he wanted to do more than just look, and then he spoke his thoughts aloud. “You should be proud—you have a really great body.” After saying this, he seemed to lower his head, almost embarrassed.
You didn’t want him to be embarrassed. If anything, you wanted him to say more. Much more…
You placed your plastic fork back into the container of cinnamon rolls. ���Even though we’re spending Christmas Eve together, I still haven’t thanked you for saving me. If you hadn’t stood behind me when you were about to pay, who knows how much I would’ve embarrassed myself.” You let out a playful groan.
“You’re welcome. But I’d also like to thank you.”
“For what? If it’s for the cinnamon rolls, you’ve already had enough—”
“Oh no, but thanks again for those. If I hadn’t stopped you, I’m pretty sure you would’ve broken my arm.”
That was true. You’d insisted on paying for the rolls yourself as a kind gesture. After all, he’d paid for your drinks. Also, when you handed over your card, seeing his veiny hands and the Rolex on his wrist had almost made you bite those hands right then and there.
“But what I want to thank you for is making me laugh while you were drunk. Also, we’re definitely going to report that mugging incident to the police.”
“Wait, you were actually listening to me?”
“I wasn’t sitting very far from the bar, and after I noticed you, I don’t think I could’ve focused on anything else.”
You stared at Ken with a hungry look in your eyes. The fact that he wanted you made you want to scream with joy. This man had truly saved you from a lonely Christmas. Tonight would end soon, but maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t wake up alone on Christmas morning either.
“You said you live nearby, right?”
“Yes, why? Are you not feeling well?”
“No instead I’m really good. I just want to feel better.”
Ken didn’t say anything for a moment, but the look in his eyes told you he understood exactly what you meant—and that he wanted the same thing.
“Are you sure? If you’re still drunk and don’t want to—”
“I really want you, Ken.”
He still didn’t respond with words; he just kept looking at you with that same hungry gaze.
“Five minutes. It’s just a five-minute walk.”
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“Mffmmp Ken, please…”
As soon as the elevator reached the floor of the luxurious apartment and he opened the door, your lips collided with Ken’s, and you practically jumped into his arms.
He kissed and sucked your lips with such hunger that it felt like he was already inside you. One hand caressed the right side of your face while the other firmly gripped your waist.
He pulled his lips away from yours. “What is it, baby? You want more?” He brushed his lips against yours again but didn’t kiss you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips. “Say it. Say it again.”
“Fuck… Yes, Ken. I want you to pin me to your bed and fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.” You managed to get the words out, panting.
“I knew the moment I saw you that you’d drive me insane.” He pulled you away from the wall where he had you pressed and kissed you again, carrying you toward his bedroom.
You closed your eyes along the way, but you knew you were going upstairs somehow. Was this apartment his? And damn, why was it so big? You were too aroused to focus on anything else. All that mattered to you was the fullness of his luscious lips.
When your back met the soft satin sheets, you opened your eyes. Ken was watching you with a deep hunger in his gaze. Slowly, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before trailing softer kisses downward.
He licked and sucked at your neck, his hands sliding under your white sweater until they reached your breasts. Without rushing, he kneaded them with a deep hunger.
He spoke against your neck, his warm breath making you shiver. “May I take this off?”
The only response you could muster was a loud moan. Ken took it as a yes, planting a final kiss on the sensitive spot of your neck before sitting up and carefully removing your sweater. All that was left was your white lace bra, but instead of taking it off immediately, he let his fingers wander over the lace, particularly around the area of your nipples.
“They’re so soft and beautiful. I could play with them all night.” He leaned down and pressed wet kisses against your bra-covered breasts.
“Oh my god, Ken! Shit—are you going to take it off or not?”
His gaze shifted from your breasts to your face, darkened with desire. He took your right nipple between his teeth over the fabric, making you moan loudly. When he released it, your eyes were still closed, and you were gripping the satin sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn’t tear.
“I like it,” he said, his gaze returning to your breasts. “Besides, the night is long. I’ll take it off when I feel like it.” Without hesitation, he moved to your left breast and gave it the same pleasure as the right.
“Sh-shit, I’ve never—never felt this way before…” Your hands left the sheets and gripped his hair, pulling him closer as if begging for more.
“If I wanted to, I could make you come just by sucking on this perfect nipple, sweetheart.” You were sure he could. If he kept torturing your nipples like this, your panties would be completely soaked.
As if he’d read your mind, his lips left your breast and returned to your neck. He immediately found your favorite spot and began sucking, while one hand moved downward to your soaked, desperate core. You hadn’t even realized when he’d removed your jeans and panties; the pleasure in your breasts had blinded you to everything else.
“So wet and…” His fingers explored your walls, gently rubbing them. “…so warm.”
“KEN… PLEASE.”
“Shhh, be a patient baby. I promise you won’t spend a single second of this Christmas Eve alone or without pleasure,” he said, his lips biting down on your neck as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed it slowly but firmly. “No one will stop my new friend from having a beautiful Christmas.” His fingers moved faster, pressing hard against your most sensitive spot.
“Ughh… Ken, fuck—fuck, I don’t want to—don’t want to be alone.”
His hot breath and quiet curses landed on your neck. “You’re not, sweetheart. I won’t let you be. You’re with me, here, in my bed.”
He drew circles over your clit with his fingers before suddenly plunging them inside you, making you cry out. You didn’t know how he sped up, but as his thick fingers pumped in and out of you, he never slowed down.
“Y-you’re so fast, Ken!” you stammered, barely able to speak from the pleasure. He pressed against your G-spot with such precision that it felt like he’d tear through it.
“Fuck… Right here, isn’t it? That sweet spot. I bet it’s been swollen like this even before we got here,” he said, slowing his pace but pressing harder and deeper against your G-spot. With each deliberate thrust of his fingers, their full length filled you completely.
“YES—YES, THAT’S EXACTLY IT… OH KEN… DON’T—UGH—DON’T STOP!” Both hands moved from the sheets to his head, pulling at his perfectly blond hair as if encouraging him to go deeper.
“Don’t you dare come yet. You’re only coming when I’m inside you for the first time,” he warned as he felt your walls begin to clench around his fingers.
Amid the wet, obscene sounds of your core, you tried to protest. “But I want to… I-I’m so close, Ken.” You pulled his hair harder.
Ken suddenly stopped moving his fingers and pulled them out of you. He sat up, licking his fingers clean. His deep, masculine groans as he savored every inch of your taste sent shivers down your spine.
“Screw the cinnamon rolls. This is my dessert.”
He climbed off the bed and removed his pants and the black turtleneck that fit him so perfectly. His boxers strained against his erection. He opened a drawer from the nightstand, pulling out a condom packet. Lowering his boxers, his cock sprang free, leaving you staring in awe.
Calling it a “cock” felt insufficient—it was massive. A rare sight that anyone would only encounter a few times in their life. And lucky you, on a Christmas night you thought you’d spend alone, you’d encountered it. In that moment, you mentally thanked Jesus. Because without him, there would be no Christmas.
Ken tore the condom packet open with his teeth and carefully rolled it onto his length. He must have noticed your wide-eyed stare because he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips for you to focus on him.
“I never have sex without protection, but if you’re uncomfortable—”
“No—no. I don’t take pills, so we can’t take any risks.”
His gorgeous smile returned to his sweaty face. Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushed just the tip inside, making you close your eyes and let out a deep moan.
“Ken…”
“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Too tight…” He gripped his length and pushed more inside. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to his body as you adjusted to his size. He hadn’t even fully entered you yet.
Ken began thrusting slowly, letting you get used to his girth. When your back hit the satin sheets again, he hooked your legs around his waist. His face found your neck, his favorite spot, as he groaned softly.
“This—this is exactly what I needed.” His cock slid in and out with increasing depth. “This isn’t just—fuck… Christmas fun, sweetheart. You’re mine now.”
Pulling away from your neck, he straightened up and started moving faster. Your legs stayed wrapped around his waist, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you with every thrust.
“Hnngh Ken… F-faster… Please, faster…” You needed more. You wanted all of him.
Ken gripped your legs tighter. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” He suddenly pushed your legs up to your chest and leaned over, slamming his entire length into you.
“KEN—KEN… FUCK… YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK ME!”
“That’s the plan.”
This was more than just sex—it was pure obliteration. His cock was wrecking you, pounding against your G-spot with relentless force. Your legs, trembling from pleasure and strain, would have fallen limp if Ken weren’t holding them.
“Ken… I think I’m—I’m going to come…” you moaned, the waves of pleasure building in your body signaling your release.
“Yeah?” His hands tightened around your thighs. “Then take it. Take every—every inch of me. Come for me, sweetheart…”
“DAMN—I LOVE CHRISTMAS SO MUCH!” you cried out, the explosion of your orgasm rocking through you.
Ken thrust into you a few more times, then slowed his movements. The grip on your legs loosened as he let out a deep, guttural growl and came, filling the condom.
As he released your legs, they dropped to the bed, completely limp. You didn’t have the strength to lift them. Ken braced himself above you, breathing heavily. His eyes were closed, and in that moment, you decided this was the most handsome he’d ever looked.
He pulled out of you and disappeared into the bathroom. You assumed he was disposing of the condom. When he returned, his cock was still hard, and he was stroking it lightly as he walked toward you.
You stared at him in shock. Again? Hadn’t he just come?
The sweet man you’d met that evening now looked serious as he ordered, “Turn around and get on all fours. No condom this time.”
Your eyes widened at his words. You were done. You had no energy left, but you still obeyed, getting into position despite your trembling legs.
As you closed your eyes and prepared to feel his massive size inside you again, one thought crossed your mind: Jesus was probably watching.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Did you really want him witnessing these nasty moments?
Happy birthday, Jesus.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
You woke up the next morning with a sharp ache in your hips. You’d known this would happen. After going six rounds in five different positions with that massive cock, it was inevitable.
You tried to lift yourself up but flopped back down. Turning to the other side of the bed, you found no trace of the stranger you’d met the previous night. Pushing the hair out of your face, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your feet.
As you wondered how you were going to walk, you noticed a glass of water and a few pills on the nightstand. Beside them, a note written in neat, elegant handwriting caught your eye.
“I thought you might need these :)”
“That bastard…” you muttered under your breath. He really knew what he was doing. Sure, he was sweet, but what he’d done to you in bed last night… You’d cried during sex for the first time in your life.
Quickly downing the pills, you got to your feet and started searching for something to wear. Picking your clothes up off the floor was out of the question—you didn’t have the strength. While exploring the room, you found a massive walk-in closet and rejoiced when you spotted an oversized T-shirt.
Everything was neatly folded and smelled just like him. If they sold his cologne, you’d have bought ten bottles without hesitation. Slipping into the plain white T-shirt you found, which reached past your thighs, you decided underwear wasn’t even necessary.
Leaving the bedroom to find Ken, you finally noticed the sheer size of the apartment. How much did architects make? Maybe he was world-renowned. You made a mental note to look him up as soon as you got home.
Descending the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit your nose. You saw him standing in front of the coffee machine, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants. His back was to you, his hand holding his phone as he scrolled through something.
He looked like a Christmas morning gift you couldn’t wait to unwrap.
“Good morning…” you said shyly, standing near the entrance of the kitchen.
Ken looked up from his phone, and his eyes hungrily roamed over you. You recognized that look all too well, and God, no, not right now. You were starving, and your legs had barely carried you this far.
“Hey, good morning.” He walked over and kissed you softly before returning to the coffee machine as it finished brewing. “Coffee?” he asked, to which you eagerly replied, “Please.”
The word please had become your most-used word in the past 10 hours, and if you stayed around this man any longer, it would probably dominate the rest of your vocabulary.
Ken handed you a cup of coffee, then started making one for himself. Taking a sip, the warmth of the coffee helped you feel a bit more alive.
“Shit… I forgot to text my parents.” You set your cup down on the counter and went to find your bag. It didn’t take long; it was sitting near the entrance. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened your messages to reply to the “Merry Christmas” text your parents had sent you at 7 a.m., which you were now seeing three hours late.
When you returned to the kitchen, Ken was speaking on the phone in what sounded like Danish. You couldn’t understand a word, but no language had ever sounded this sexy before.
You placed your bag on the counter and waited for him to finish while you opened a text from a coworker.
Yuma [20:30]: Hey, I didn’t want to bother you on Christmas Eve, but do you remember that architecture company we’re making the ad for?
Yuma [20:30]: Of course you do. Well, the owner hasn’t been in Japan for a long time, but now he’s here.
Yuma [20:30]: *photo*
Yuma [20:31]: YUMMYYY!!!
Yuma [9:23]: Merry Christmas!! I know you spent the evening alone, but if you want company this morning, teleport to my place!
Yuma [9:50]: Since you haven’t replied, I’m assuming you drank and cried yourself to sleep last night.
You started reading the messages from the bottom up. Just as you were about to reply that your Christmas Eve hadn’t been lonely at all, the attached photo caught your attention—and you froze.
This couldn’t be real.
The man in the photo, looking dashing in a gray suit, was the same man currently standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but sweatpants, speaking on the phone.
You quickly opened Google and typed Nanami Structures. The CEO’s name caught your eye.
Kento Nanami.
Clicking on the name brought up countless photos, articles, and interviews about the man you’d spent the night with.
This was your fault. Why hadn’t you researched the company before the meeting? Then again, this deal had been arranged before you’d joined, so no one had given you the details.
Closing your phone, you set it down next to your bag and took a large sip of the coffee Kento Nanami himself had made for you. The heat burned your tongue, and you winced as your eyes drifted back to his bare back.
The handsome stranger who’d kept you company on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning was the owner of the architecture firm you’d be making an ad for—and probably the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk properly by the time of the meeting.
That day, you truly believed in the Christmas miracles.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b6e488d7c300c0bc4b172ae171905d55/5dc69a15ffc43bbb-ac/s540x810/3a49853bdad8d8fcd141c7590fefdbbea4a321dd.jpg)
all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
nanami art by @matchapichai on X.
dividers by @mikeykuns @cafekitsune
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x you#jjk x reader#nanami kento#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fic#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#kento nanami x you#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader
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Why I Love Hanamusa
I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/13701e7a55f4fc6cccc8c809cfaf4c50/e08912a19e2afd3b-24/s540x810/1ec0e2ce515f6f4d0d431ae0222cd8a8fd7b9a08.jpg)
First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.
I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!
Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!
It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.
Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.
Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.
All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs.
Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.
Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.
There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.
I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.
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Trial and Error (4)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/baa1ab5a2494bdbc5e5364a2a409d018/423bcd26fff14a63-22/s540x810/0763e88eca180f2d34d52d80f9c3acb8802dd7e7.jpg)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Illness, Azriel's pov 👀
a/n: Someone sedate me at this point. Also I'm posting this earlier than planned because I am susceptible to peer pressure
Read part one | part two | part three | part five
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
Azriel sat at the table for breakfast, his attention occupied by the window to his right. A plate of eggs, bacon, and toasted bread sat forgotten and untouched before him. To be honest, Azriel was unsure of how it even came to be in front of him.
Cassian was saying something, the rest of the table humoring him with sleepy mumbles and raised brows. He was always so lively in the mornings, a sentiment not shared by the rest of the inner circle.
Azriel was typically one of the more responsive people, but his shadow was late today. It had been a few weeks of sending one out to check on you every night, and this one was late. The rest of them swarmed around his feet in anticipation.
“Az?” Mor’s voice had him breaking his stare from the window. “What are you looking at? You’ve been checked out all breakfast.”
Azriel cleared his throat and readjusted in his seat. “Nothing. Just distracted.”
She snorted. “That’s an understatement. You’re been distracted for weeks now. What’s been going on with you?”
“Nothing,” Azriel repeated. He picked up his fork despite his stomach protesting, the nerves twisting it to the point of unease.
“Hate to concur, Az, but you have been rather absent. I think this is the first time you’ve had a meal with us this week,” Rhysand chimed in.
From beside him, Feyre shot her mate a look.
Azriel, feeling eyes on him, glanced to his left to find Cassian leering at him with narrowed eyes. His brother leaned his head back and hooked his arm over the back of his chair, analyzing Azriel amidst his lax posture.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “What?”
With his tongue pressed into his cheek, Cassian let out a disbelieving huff. “You’re seeing someone,” he concluded. “Who is she? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I’m not seeing anyone. Why would you come to that conclusion?”
“You answered that way too quickly to be believable.”
“Azriel, are you seeing someone? There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that,” came Mor’s soft tone—trying to play the opposite side of the coin.
“No, I—“
“He is. I know he is.” Cassian, with his assured pestering. “And don’t think I don’t notice how Rhys is being silent here. And Feyre. The only two people in the room that can read minds.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Feyre defended.
“Yeah!” Nyx yelled, quick to defend his mother. “Nothing!”
But Nyx’s interference only made Cassian turn his attention to the small child and knock his head to the side.
“Nyx—“ Cassian began. In response, Nyx shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth. “Azriel’s been taking you to school an awful lot, hasn’t he?”
“Mmhmm,” Nyx nodded.
“And he’s been going to all of your school events?”
Nyx nodded again, this time with a mouthful of juice.
“Does Azriel talk to anyone when he’s at your school?”
“He talks to Ms. Fern.”
Cassian let out a barking laugh and turned back to Azriel with a wide grin. “Ms. Fern? Okay, Az, if that’s what does it for you. You should bring her to the house.”
Although he felt an immense pride for Nyx keeping his secret (because Nyx had seen him talking to you countless times) a strange, hot anger licked at the bond hanging loose in his chest.
He wasn’t seeing Ms. Fern. The reasonable part of his mind told him that it was better this way, you would feel safer, but the unreasonable side wanted to knock Cassian across the room.
You were so much better than Ms. Fern. The teacher didn’t “do it for him” and never would. It was insulting to you.
Azriel ground his teeth. He knew this reaction was more borne from the fact his shadow hadn’t returned and the worry he was feeling was paralyzing, but reasoning with himself did nothing.
“I will not be—“
Sick, sad, help.
A whisper at his ear made Azriel rein in his words.
Alone, alone, alone.
Azriel snapped his head to the side to find his missing shadow whisking down to join the rest, the hoard of them now rising to leave. To get to you, he realized. He had to—
“What is it?” Rhysand asked.
Azriel could feel his talons scratch along the barrier of his mind, but there was no time to let Rhysand hear what he’d heard. In one fluid motion, Azriel was up from the table and out of the house, his wings spread wide behind him as he flew to the outskirts of Velaris where you resided.
One of the first things he would suggest after he got you to trust him was for you to move.
He’d already reinforced your locks and checked your neighbors, but you were still so far and that side of Velaris wasn’t the best.
He’d ask you to move into the House of Wind, but he knew that’d be pushing it. Obviously.
His back ached as he pressed his wings further, desperate to make it to you. He flung his body one way and then the other to dodge buildings as he went, flying low to save time. Luckily, the streets were barren this early.
But it wasn’t early enough for your shop to be closed, an all too alarming fact when faced with the “closed” sign on the front door. He yanked on the knob anyways, but the door wouldn’t budge.
He cursed himself for ensuring their stability.
He started knocking next—soft at first and then with a blistering urgency. He knocked and knocked and was moments away from flying up to your window and possibly scaring you off for good when the door wrenched open.
You looked beyond disheveled, bone-tired, and frankly gaunt as you stared up at him with an incredulous gaze. Your gaze softened a fraction when you saw it was Azriel beating down your door, but a tinge of irritation remained hazing your eyes.
“Azriel, we’re closed for—”
“Are you okay?” he rushed out.
Since the open house, Azriel had been more open with his vies to take care of you. If he were being honest, the intrinsic need to protect you and Melanie was overwhelming and he was barely scratching the surface of all he wanted to do, but you became guarded any time he got too intense. So, he walked you home and asked you about your family and he didn’t care if he got a stonewall in response.
But right now, you did not look well.
Right now, there was no Melanie peaking behind your legs as you stood at the apothecary door.
So, right now, Azriel didn’t have a mind to be subtle.
“Where is Melanie? Are you hurt?” he asked before you could formulate a response.
He watched your knuckles pale as you gripped the door. You breathed in deeply. “Mel has been sick all night. I’m not sure what it is and I’ve been trying everything. I’m about two seconds away from calling a healer but…”
Azriel knew that tell—the way your eyes shifted and your expression pinched.
More people.
Anytime you were confronted with introducing more people into Melanie’s life, you crumbled.
“Let me come see her,” Azriel requested, the tension leaking from his voice into a softer tone. Now that he knew the two of you weren’t dying, there was some relief. Some.
You shook your head, pressing your lips into a firm line as you deflated. “I don’t want to get you sick. I think I'm already a lost cause, but you—you have important things to do.”
If only you knew how important you were to him.
Azriel felt his fists clench at the defeated look in your eye. “If you’re sick, you can’t take care of her. Just let me come in. Let me help, y/n.”
“Azriel…”
“Please. Let me take care of you.”
He wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, afraid of you drawing back in fear, but they were already lingering in the space between you. Azriel decided you must have been truly exhausted because your only reply was a pained sigh followed by your door swinging open to let him in.
You didn’t even send him a sidelong glance.
Azirel’s hand twitched as he followed you up the stairs to your apartment, the urge to press his fingers along your back stifling.
One step at a time, Azriel—you were only just letting him into your house.
Any examination of your apartment abruptly halted as soon as his feet met the threshold of the sitting room. Melanie was lying on the couch looking worse for wear with a cloth along her forehead and a flush to her cheeks that did not sit well with the Shadowsinger. His chest caved in at the sight, a feeling that intensified when her small voice filled the space.
“Mr. Azriel?” she croaked, attempting to lift her head. You rushed over to press her back down, running your fingers through her hair. “He’s always at my house,” Melanie said, turning to look at you. “Always.”
You let out a breathy laugh as Melanie shut her eyes and began to softly snore against the arm of the loveseat. Azriel’s shadows rushed to the girl and brushed against her forehead and arms, offering the cool wind they provided.
In a few steps, Azriel took a knee beside you. He looked at you first—at the way you hovered over your daughter with furrowed brows—and then let his gaze wash over Melanie. Against his better judgment, he wrapped his scarred fingers around her tiny hands.
No poison, his shadows reported, although he didn’t expect it to be. She was feverish, hadn’t eaten since last night, couldn’t keep anything down; it was rare for fae to get so sick, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning.
Even more worrisome was the fever emanating from you. Azriel could feel the heat on his shoulder and he could tell you hadn’t stopped to rest.
“I know a healer that can help. She wouldn’t say anything to anyone,” Azriel said after a beat of silence.
You paused your fingers in Melanie’s hair. “Do you promise?”
The sickness had worn you down, taking the fight and fear right out of you.
“I promise on everything. I wouldn’t bring someone here that wasn’t safe.”
Azriel called Majda.
Majda arrived in a few minutes, much to your surprise. Azriel had gotten the door upon her knock, his eyes catching the way your knees shook as you went to stand.
Majda kneeled in front of the couch where you and Azriel once were, her healing magic lighting up the room. Behind her, Azriel stood with you and he watched.
He watched your worried brow and the way you picked at your fingers. He watched the flush on your face get worse and worse as your daughter’s illness gradually got you sicker. He watched the way you tracked each of Majda’s movements, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.
He watched your body shake as it held you up.
He watched his mate and saw how alone you were.
Azriel reached up and tucked a hair behind your pointed ear, using the ploy to feel for the temperature on your cheek. You turned to look up at him and he felt the way his expression strained.
“You should let her look at you too,” he said, voice low and calm.
You shook your head. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”
“You aren’t.”
You turned back to your daughter, looking on.
Azriel no longer cared for the farce he’d been putting on. He stepped closer and let his palm rest on the small of your back if only to support you from collapsing. He saw you glance at him from the corner of your eye, but you made no move to step away.
It took Majda 13 minutes to come to a conclusion. Azriel knew that because he had been counting.
“Well, first of all, she will be okay. As will you, as I see you may have the same illness,” the older healer spoke, rising from the ground with a grunt. “It is most unusual—what ails you. Do you have Autumn's blood?”
The fingers you had pressed to your mouth were abruptly dropped. You looked up to Azriel with panic in your eyes, a question clear in your expression.
He hadn’t known where you were from, but he had guessed, and you were looking at him as if he knew—as if he knew and you wanted to know if it was safe for the healer to know as well.
Azriel nodded his head and ignored the bittersweet feeling in his chest.
He had wanted you to tell him when you were ready.
“Yes,” you uttered, shaking your head much faster than you spoke. “We both are. Is that—does that have something to do with it?”
Majda offered you a thin smile. “You have Autumn fever. Something to do with the fire that lingers in your blood. Sometimes it does not align with the other courts and your body revolts. It will pass in a few days as most. Uncomfortable bugger to be sure, but nothing that cannot be managed.”
You sagged against Azriel in relief, the shadowsinger catching your weight as your knees buckled. He pulled you closer to his front but didn’t feel complete until he guided you back to the couch and leaned over Melanie as she slept.
“She’ll be okay?” you asked.
Azriel thought the question was for Majda, but when he looked to his side you were staring directly at him, fear and fever in your gaze.
He lost his breath and captured your face in his hands. “She’ll be okay,” he assured. You were so hot against his skin. “You will too. I’ll fix it.”
Something righted in your expression—something softened. For the first time since he entered your house, you let out a full breath and allowed your eyelids to drop. It was barely thirty seconds before your head fell as well, your forehead landing on Azriel’s collarbone. He trailed his hand up to rest against your hair and placed his other on Melanie’s knee as he stayed beside the couch.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Shadowsinger,” Majda crooned. “That’s a whole lot of responsibility. A lot of secrets.”
Azriel tightened his hold on you. “Do you have herbs that would help? To lessen fever or pain?”
Majda hummed. “I will leave a few.” A pause. The floorboards creaked as Majda went to make her exit. “Heed my words, Azriel.”
“I know what I’m doing—what I’m getting myself into.” He dropped his nose to your temple, listening to your breath as you slept. His shadows continued their mission of cooling Melanie’s feverish skin.
“Do you?”
Azriel considered the question, and no, he didn’t know.
But he couldn’t find it within himself to care.
part five
#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x female!reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#azriel spymaster#acotar#acotar fanfiction
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slow down, be here
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: after a long, frustrating day of training, a night in with you is just what lando needs to leave it all in his rearview mirror (2.4k)
warnings: teensy but of swearing, reader is in university but major is unspecified, lando being a certified menace
a/n: i was gonna post this sometime next week but the lando girlies (aka me) need some comfort after today's shitshow. may or may not have been entirely inspired by that video of lando in the white singlet. that look (however fleeting) did things to me okay
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ddc0cd090e04fb9ad435418210d298a8/e04333b9c3977bed-c6/s540x810/57d6ab6c2f0541ce7479fb2c5bf064ed54c89d33.jpg)
You’re sitting at the kitchen counter when you hear Lando’s key in the door, one leg drawn up towards your chest, the other swinging aimlessly as you revise your notes last minute.
Well, more specifically, when you hear him drop his keys on the floor in search of the correct one right before he inserts it into the lock. You’ve loved him and lived with him long enough to know it’s something he does everyday without fail. Whether it’s because he’s got clumsy hands or he’s Pavloved himself into dropping them at the same spot, you don’t think too much about it. The key drop signals that Lando is home.
What also signals that he’s home is the way he lets out the strangest sound you’ve ever heard as he lets the door swing shut behind him after he’s let himself in—something between a sigh and a whine mixed with a guttural groan.
“In here!” You call, taking the cap of your pen out from between your teeth. It only takes a few seconds until Lando emerges from the hallway, socked feet dragging himself towards where you’re sitting with a soft smile aimed at his rumpled state. “Hi, love.”
He plops down on the stool next to you unceremoniously, hooking his foot under the bar of yours to tug you as close as possible to him on instinct. His chin finds the dip between your neck and shoulder to nestle into, and the deflating sigh he lets out once he’s situated himself to his liking sends a shiver through you. “Hi.” He mumbles, voice muffled.
“Heard you’ve had quite a day.” You stroke a hand over his curls, smoothing them away from his forehead gently. Oscar had shot you a heads up text a little bit before Lando had arrived, saying that Lando might seem a bit put out when he got home. Something about a handful of tests not going the way they wanted, strategies not working out the way they planned. It sounds like enough to drive anyone crazy, but Lando is the type of person to take things especially hard.
Lando lets out a vague sound of acknowledgement. You can tell he’s exhausted and frustrated, and you know exactly what he needs to wind down after days like these. “I’ll order takeaway for dinner. You go shower. It’ll probably be here by the time you finish up.”
He gives a more content sigh this time, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. The tips of his hair tickle your cheek as he does so. “You’re a gem, darling.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” You tease, pushing him away playfully. He’s smiling big at you when you meet his gaze, something beyond fondness behind his eyes despite the tiredness as he does. “What?”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, stinky. Now go. Wash up before I make an executive decision and order sushi.”
That gets your boyfriend scrambling to his feet fast, aiming a horrified look your way as he books it down the hallway. “You monster!”
You chuckle quietly, busying yourself with finding Lando’s favorite Italian spot on your delivery app. Soon enough, the food is ordered and all you have to do now is wait.
Lando reemerges from the bedroom just as you pull open the front door to grab the food from the delivery person. He figures you’ve got it handled by the way you’re chatting nicely with them, so he busies himself with drinks.
There’s a bottle on top of the fridge that looks vaguely fancy, and though Lando doesn’t know much about wine, Charles had gifted him the bottle a while ago for his birthday. He trusts Charles’ taste.
He does his best to sound out the French on the label and shrugs, snagging two wine glasses to go along with it. By the time he finishes pouring a generous amount in each glass, you’ve just closed the door, joining him in the kitchen with a massive bag of food. His brows fly into his hairline at the sight.
You twist your lips to the side in thought, wrinkling your nose as you study the bulging paper bag. “I might’ve ordered too much.”
“Good thing I always rise to the occasion.”
You glance up at him, setting it down on the counter in favor of sidling over to where he is, not even fighting the smitten grin stretching your lips as you maneuver yourself between him and the marble.
His curls are damp, messily towel ruffled and starting to frizz as they air dry. He already looks more at ease, comfier than ever in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a white singlet. You make a mental note to remind him to wear white more. It makes his tan skin glow, and it makes you not want to take your eyes off him.
Your fingers skate along the exposed skin of his chest, stopping once to push into those dimples in his cheeks that you love so much before moving up to link around the back of his neck. His hands find their way to your waist at the same time, sliding coyly under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin.
In one fell swoop, you’re up on the counter, Lando nudging his way between your knees. He kisses you languidly, like he has all the time in the world to explore your mouth; long, slow kisses mixed in with brief pecks until you’re all but melting against him. He’s familiar and solid under your touch, all flexing muscle and warm skin as your hands run along his arms.
After a while, Lando’s focus shifts to trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. On instinct, you tilt your head to give him more space to work and he takes it gladly, focusing on that one spot just below your ear that he knows for a fact works on you every time.
You sigh appreciatively at the pressure of his lips against your skin, the way his teeth nip at that sweet spot but his tongue sneaks out to soothe the sting just as quick.
Your fingers dig into his biceps as he continues his venture, but when he starts kissing along your shoulder, you squeeze a little harder. As much as you want to continue this, you remember you’ve got food waiting for both of you. He stops immediately, perfect lips pouted, eyes wide when he comes back up to gauge your reaction.
“Eat first, kiss later.” You explain, peeling him off you (albeit a bit reluctantly) before hopping off the countertop. He whines something unintelligible as you unload the food, but as soon as you push a container of his favorite pasta towards him, he seems to forget his disappointment.
The silence as you eat is comfortable, both of you seemingly more hungry than you thought you were as the food and wine begin to disappear. All the while, the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller, until your elbows start to bump each other with each bite you take.
You’ve mastered the art of enjoying each other’s company without having to say a word.
“Were you revising earlier? When I came home?” He asks after a while, jabbing his fork in the direction of your notes. A few strands of pasta splatter onto the counter with the action and you tsk, nudging him with your foot. The last thing you want is sauce all over your papers.
“Yeah, I was. Just some final practicing, see if anything needs tweaking before I have to present my thesis.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect. You’ve been working on it for ages.”
You spear a chunk of tomato with your fork, dragging it around in the sauce aimlessly. “I dunno. Everything is there, but it still feels like something’s missing.”
“Present it to me.”
“What?”
“Pretend I’m the university board, or whatever, and present it to me. Maybe you’ll figure out what’s missing if you act like it’s the real thing.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
Lando scoffs, looking offended. “Baby, I’d do anything for you. Go on, do your little scholar thing for me. I’ll be the best fake board you’ve ever seen.” You gnaw on your lip, unsure. The idea seems silly, but it’ll probably work. “C’mon, bub. You’ve got a genius brain up there in that pretty head of yours, let me see it in action.”
“Okay. Okay, fine, but you can’t be mean! You have to be nice, ‘cause I’m already freaking the fuck out about having to present next week and I don’t think I can deal with—”
“First of all, I’m never mean to you. Second of all, get the fuck up there before I take my offer back.”
You stick your tongue out at Lando whilst you grab your papers at the other end of the counter, feigning swatting him with them as he bounces his way over to the couch. He settles in right smack dab on the middle cushion, grabbing a pillow to hug while you do a quick once over of everything. Then you’re ready.
You stumble through your introduction a little bit, but the words start flowing a few sentences into the body of your research—days, weeks, months of work having burned them straight into your brain. The longer you talk, the more comfortable you become, which gives you the confidence to set aside your notes for once. Part of you feels like you’re about to clam up and forget everything any second now, but you don’t. You forge on like you were born to.
All that comes to a halt when you hasten a glance over at Lando, who’s staring at you without a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of his, smiling goofily at you.
“Lando!” You whine, pouting. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?”
Lando blinks a few times like he’s coming back down to Earth, letting a sheepish grin creep its way across his face. “Not really.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m sorry! You just look really pretty when you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s hard to focus on words when I look at you.”
Well, you can’t exactly be mad at him when he’s sweet like that. Besides, you didn’t think he’d understand half of what you were saying anyways, and you’ve found the answer to your problems. Nothing was missing. Lando was right, you’re fully prepared for your thesis presentation. You just needed to get your nerves out of the way.
“Worst fake board ever.” You huff.
“But I just said you look pretty!”
You prop a hand on your hip. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.”
“Oh yeah? Nowhere, really?” He rises from his seat, creeping towards you with that glint in his eyes you know far too well. You know what he’s about to do, and you’re about ready to make a run for it.
He bridges the gap between the two of you faster than you think possible, catching you around the waist right before you can make your great escape down the hallway, hoisting you off your feet with ease despite your wriggling around like a fish out of water, and hauling you over to the couch. He tosses you over the back of it just as easily, following suit before you can scramble away.
Realistically, you should've anticipated the whip fast reflexes of a professional racing driver. Having a faster reaction time than the average person is part of the job description.
“Lando, no!!!” You squeal, already breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
“Maybe flattery won’t get me anywhere, but I know what might!” He pins you down against the cushions with your knees clamped between his own as he digs his fingers into your sides viciously, ignoring your pleas in favor of grinning wickedly.
“I give up! I give up, please—” You gasp, squirming under his relentless torture. One of his hands comes up to pin both your wrists down easily, probably so you don't punch him in the face trying to escape. (You’ve done it once before, purely by accident, but Lando’s never let you forget it.)
“Say that you love me.”
“You already know I do!”
“Wanna hear you say it.” He insists, jabbing you in the side threateningly.
You shake your head frantically. You’re near tears at this point, stomach hurting from laughing so much. There’s no point in dragging it out any longer, especially when sweet, sweet freedom is as easy as telling the love of your life that you love him. “I love you!”
“What was that?” He tilts his head, brows raising expectantly.
“I love you, Lando Norris.” You repeat, as steady as you can despite your breathlessness. That seems to satisfy him.
He gives it up entirely, wedging himself between you and the back of the couch, making himself comfortable as you try to catch your breath. You roll over onto your side so you’re facing him, allowing him more space to nuzzle against you. “You���re a dickhead.”
“I’m your dickhead, and you love me.” He replies smugly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms worm their way underneath you and link up behind your back, legs tangling with yours. At this point, you’re not sure where you end and he begins, which is just the way Lando always likes it.
“Against my better nature, I do.” You sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. He hums sleepily, exhaling in deep comfort. “I’m sorry you had a rough go of it today.”
“S’fine. Nothing you’ve got to be sorry about. You’ve already made it better.” He mumbles. He already sounds like he's about to drift off.
“D’you want to talk about it?”
Lando lifts his head to look up at you, blinking slowly. He offers you a small smile. “Not really. Just wanna lay here with you and forget about it all.”
“Okay.” You say softly.
You might not be able to help him with everything in life, but this, you can do. You thread one hand through his hair, smoothing through his curls in that one way you know he loves. Your other hand comes up around his back, fingers scratching a gentle path up and down his spine.
If Lando was a cat, he’d be purring right now.
Instead he opts for an appreciative groan, pushing his nose back into the warm nook he’d created. His lips press against your skin—once, twice, a third time for good measure. “Thank you.”
Whether he’s thanking you for scratching his back or for just being here for him on the days he feels like he’s not at his best, you’re not sure, but either way you give him a tight squeeze and another kiss in lieu of a response.
You’ll do anything if it means making sure he knows you’ve always got him.
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passenger princess
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!tech analyst!reader
summary: After what happened and Aaron being unable to drive, you have the honor of driving him home. Too bad the little motel has only one room left - with one bed.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, unprotected p in v, no real foreplay, aftercare, kissing, making out, fluff, the beatles ig, love confession, kinda aprupt ending (sorry guys, i'm tired)
wordcount: 3603 words
a/n: this is inspired by this post from @pastelpinkflowerlife! i loved the idea and hope I could do it justice! i peppered in some of my favourite tropes and smut ofc. (i'm just a girl) for the plot they are also not in NYC but a bit farther away, so i could make it a bit more realistic. enjoy <3
“He’s yours,” Derek told you with a shit eating grin while your smile dropped.
“What?”
“You get to drive Mr Grouchy over there home. He’s not cleared to fly yet because he almost busted his ear drum, so someone has to drive him. And that’s where you come in, sunshine. The rest of the team is already on their way to the airport. Here’s your car key.” His smile never faltered once as he flung the key at you.
“Oh, and by the way, Garcia has all your tech stuff, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Derek, we both know that that’s not what I’m worried about, but whatever, I’m not getting out of this, am I?” the whining in your voice was impossible to ignore.
“Nope, drive safe, princess,” and with that Derek turned around, got into another car, which was almost identical to the one you would have to drive and drove away.
You didn’t get any time to sulk, Aaron already walking up to where you were standing, a slight frown on his face that turned apologetic once he looked into your eyes. He felt genuinely bad for you.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me now. I bet that’s not how you anticipated to spend your weekend.”
“Oh, no it’s all right Hotch. I’m not really a fan of flying anyways, I’ve always preferred to be in the lair at Quantico.”
So, it was not actually that all right, because you had teeny tiny problem.
You had a huge crush on your boss, Aaron Hotchner.
From the moment you first laid eyes on his tall frame, his piercing eyes and oh those hands, you knew you were a goner. Since then, you were incredibly attracted to him, and you knew you would inevitably catch feelings for him. Which weren’t very promising conditions for driving in a small car with him. Especially when said person was one of the best profilers ever.
But you really don’t have a choice and if you were being completely honest you were glad that in some way or another could take care of him. You knew with how stubborn he could be it wouldn’t be easy, but you hoped he could at least relax a little bit.
A moment of silence passed between the both of you before you decided to take a step towards the car.
Aaron was already on his way to the driver’s side, but that would not happen, not under your watch.
“I’m driving today. We both know you shouldn’t right now, and it won’t hurt you to sit back and relax a little bit. For once, let someone take care of you, please” the smile you sent him, made him begrudgingly agree. He’s always had a soft spot for you and your smile, especially because it always made everything seem a little lighter. No matter if it were a case, a profile, or any other conversation, you could turn his whole mood with just a simple smile. Oh, and don’t get him started about how he feels every time you beam at him.
Aaron still didn’t step away from the car, rather opening the door and holding it open for you.
Thanking him with a shy thanks you get into the car. Hotch closing the door behind you, walked in front of the car to get in himself.
Once you were both buckled in, you couldn’t hold the comment back that was burning on the tip of your tongue. It was a bold comment, especially from you, but you couldn’t help yourself.
“You’re like my passenger princess now for once,” and while that made you giggle, Aaron only shot you a slightly amused but still grumpy glare. You referred to the one time he called you that (also as a joke) when there was a local case about a year ago and he drove you back towards the head quarters. After you got hurt, he desperately needed to see you smile again and he definitely succeeded.
You started the car, put on the radio and now your little road trip could officially start.
Aaron could now properly look at you; the way your hair fell down your shoulders, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the blush on your cheeks, the way your lashes touched your cheeks every time you blinked. You were truly mesmerising.
The truth was – Aaron had feelings for you, the first time he saw you was like a slap in the face, your beauty taking his breath away. It was the first time he ever felt something akin to butterflies since he first met Haley back in high school and definitely the first time he considered romance again after her death. If he were being honest, he would have hired you even if you weren’t as good at your job, for completely selfish reasons. Fortunately, though, you were an outstanding agent and fit right in with Garcia, who would be your closest colleague. That day he couldn’t get you out of his head, and till this day he couldn’t.
But as long as he wasn’t 100% that you felt the same, he wouldn’t act on his feelings. As you were his employee it also wouldn’t sit right with him to possibly put you in an uncomfortable position or force you to do something you may didn’t want to do.
So, for now he would just keep on watching from afar, or as of now, rather from up close. He wasn’t too mad about you driving, that way you couldn’t pay him too much mind while he could fully concentrate on studying your face and committing it his mind.
A Beatles song coming on the radio, interrupted his train of thought. Before he could do it though, your hand reached out and increased the volume, the song now filling every inch of the car. And to Aarons absolute delight, he could hear your gentle voice singing along. Now he suddenly wished the music weren’t quite as loud, so he could hear you better, but he would take what he could get.
Once the Beatles have passed, the station played a lot of other stuff Aaron thought you wouldn’t really like or would be too young to know, but you knew the lyrics to all of the songs. Hotch assumed that you didn’t even realise that you were singing, which made the moment strangely more intimate. After about one and a half hours of driving, there was suddenly a loud metallic sounding noise, which made you both freeze.
You pulled over and got out of the car, Aaron immediately following suit. Once you’ve walked around the car, you saw exactly what caused the noise – you had a flat tire. Upon taking a closer look you could see that you must have driven over a nail, which was now stuck in said tire.
Aaron saw the issue as well. “Do we have a spare tire?”
“I have no idea, how about you check the trunk?”
“Good idea,” Aaron said, already on his way to the back of the car.
“Wait- Aaron, do you know how to change a tire?” you only now realised that you definitely did not know how to change one and you just prayed that he knew, because calling someone because of that would be a bit embarrassing. It would also prolong your stay at the side of the road, which also wouldn’t be ideal.
You probably didn’t realise what you said, but hearing his first name falling from your lips almost made Aaron blush like a schoolgirl. Usually, both of you kept a professional face, never using your frost names unless you were meeting after a case with the others.
Once Aaron had calmed down a bit, he came back with a spare tire and answered you, “Of course I know how to change one, don’t you?”
“Uhm- well, I never had to do it, and it also never happened to me before. I’m glad you know how to do it though,” the smile returned to your face, while Aaron got to work.
He encouraged you to watch and explained everything to you, even letting you fasten a few of the screws and rewarding you with a rare smile once the new tire was installed.
Finally, you went back to the car and resumed your journey. It all went well, but of course, it couldn’t stay like that for long.
From one moment to the other, it suddenly started raining like crazy, the roads slick from the rain. The journey would have taken a few hours that you planned to drive without any overnight breaks, but the rain made that almost impossible.
“Maybe we should stay the night somewhere and wait for the rain to stop,” Aarons gentle voice cut through your inner turmoil. It always scared you a bit that he could tell exactly what you were thinking without you saying a single word.
“That’s a good idea; I’ll stop at the next motel.”
Finally, the next exit neared, the storm only getting worse and worse by the minute. You were glad you finally got off the street, all of Reid’s statistics about car accidents in extreme weather conditions plaguing your mind.
You took the exit, the dingy motel not looking like the most comfortable, but it was the only shelter you could get at the moment.
After parking the car, the two of you grabbed your go-bags and hurried inside. From the inside the motel had the same shabby charme as on the outside. A bored looking teenager looked up as you approached the information desk. Hotch took over the talking, asking for two rooms.
“We only have one room available at the moment, we should have more tomorrow, though,” came from the boy, his voice unwaveringly monotone.
The two of you made short eye contact, your smile reassuring him that it was all right.
“It’s fine, we’ll take it.”
He handed over the key, Aaron leading the way to your room. After opening the door, he held it open for you, letting you take the first look at your little oasis. You froze in the middle of the doorway, the single queen-sized bed in the middle of the small room almost glaring at you. The flowery sheets that matched the dusty curtains just added to your horror.
“Are you alright?” came his voice through your brain fog, your legs immediately starting to move again.
“Oh, yea I’m fine, I just didn’t expect it.”
“Expect what?” he asked before stepping inside himself “Oh.”
You turned around, the mild shock evident in his voice.
“If you’d like I can sleep on the floor, if this arrangement makes you uncomfortable,” he immediately offered once you had fully turned around.
“There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the floor with a damaged ear and bruised body. We’re both grown ups, if you don’t mind, we can share the bed,” you’d do anything to get that poor man off the floor, even if the thought of sharing a bed made butterflies erupt in your stomach.
He gives you a curt nod before offering you the bathroom first, claiming he still wanted to call Jack. You told him to send the little boy lots of kisses from you before taking your go bag and disappearing into the bathroom.
After taking a shower, brushing your teeth, and doing your short skin care routine, you step outside again. Aaron had taken off his jacket and tie, the top buttons of his shirt undone. He looked up once he heard the door open, his eyes wandering over your pyjama which only consisted of shorts and a baggy t-shirt, that barely covered you, your legs on fully display.
He realised he may have stared at you when you started moving again, taking a seat at the other side – your side – of the bed. Grabbing his own bag, Aaron disappeared wordlessly into the bathroom.
You prayed that you didn’t make him uncomfortable with your outfit, you didn’t think you had to share a room with anyone, especially not with him. Slipping under the covers, you take your book and start reading, quickly losing yourself in the pace of the book.
When Aaron had taken his shower and joined you in bed again, you tried your best to stay neutral. You put away your book, leaning over to your bed side table to turn off the light. He did the same, both of you covering yourselves with the blanket before wishing each other a good night.
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, both exhausted from the intense case and long car ride. But you woke up not soon after, having slept for about two hours.
The first thing you noticed was a steady warmth against you and something heavy on your stomach. You opened around and turned your head, jut to see Aaron’s head in the crook of your neck, silently snoring while the creases absent from his usually frowny face. He was hugging your body and had apparently pulled you closer to him in his sleep. The contempt expression on his face kept you from waking him, though your eyes seemed to have disrupted his sleep.
Aaron opened his eyes, immediately feeling groggy. What was unusual though, was the warm body that he apparently had hugged to himself. The comfort of the position almost lulled him back to sleep when he felt eyes on him and remembered who he had pulled closer to him.
He raised his gaze, meeting your curious eyes, but not once did his grip on you falter.
“Didn’t take you for a cuddly guy, Hotchner,” your sleepy voice broke the silence, filling the space between you. Your faces were so close together, that Aaron could feel your breath fanning on his face, just how he was sure you felt him breathing against your neck just moments before.
After a quick laugh escape him, he pleaded with you. “Please, we are literally cuddling right now, please call me Aaron.” You calling him by his first name, would make the situation so much more intimate. It wouldn’t just be Hotch being a bit lonely and cuddling up to you while unconscious, it would mean so much more.
His comment made both of you laugh and after silence settled again neither of you could deny the tension now. Your eyes moved from his, to his lips before returning, a new hunger suddenly visible in your eyes.
Aaron got the cue and took the first step, leaning forward and connecting your lips. Your face was already so close to his that it didn’t take much to kiss you, only a small tilt of his face and a slight change of position on your part and you finally got what you dreamed of for years.
But it was so much better than you could ever imagine, his lips unbelievable soft and steady against yours, his lashes fluttering and hands wandering to your waist, holding you steadily against him. One of your hands finds it’s way to his chest, the other one gliding into the hairs on the back of his neck, holding him close to you.
Even though you started out slow, it didn’t take long to get a tad more heated. Hands started to wander, to explore and you could feel Aaron’s tongue running over your bottom lip, seeking entrance.
Instinctively you part your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your tongues didn’t fight for dominance, they moved together, finding a rhythm in each other. Unfortunately, you had to breathe, so you reluctantly pulled away, Aaron’s lips chasing after yours.
You opened your eyes, immediately finding his, pupils blown wide, his breathing heavy.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice still groggy with sleep, though not at all uncertain.
“You, Aaron.” His name from your lips made something in him snap. He connected your lips again, before flipping you, so he was completely on top of you, covering your frame with his body.
Aarons lips parted from yours, now making their way over your face to your neck and slightly under the hem of your shirt, the feeling of his lips against your hot skin driving you insane. Before he could go any further though, you stopped him by fisting his sleep shirt and pulling him up to you again.
Now, you could also feel his arousal, his prominent bulge pressing against your thigh, making you whimper.
The man above you gave you a slightly puzzled look.
“I need you now, I don’t think I can wait any longer, Aaron,” your voice was breathy, but you made clear what you wanted, because you knew Aaron would give it to you. The thought made your heart rate increase even more, if possible.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” the nickname made you swoon, though his lips on yours served a quick distraction.
His hands started to wander again, halting at the waistband of your sleep shorts. Before he could even pull away you were already nodding your hand and burying your hands in his hair. Aaron let his hand slide under the waistband, finally making contact with your heat.
You let out a moan once he let his middle finger slide through your folds, the sensation almost too much. He withdrew his hand to pull the shorts down and you were quick to kick them off.
Now, Aaron pulled down the waistband of his own pants, freeing his impressive length. He wasn’t just long, but also just the right kind of girthy and veiny. You couldn’t help yourself, one hand reaching down and wrapping around him. Slowly, you started to apply pressure moving your hand up and down, letting the palm of your hand glide over his tip, not once breaking the kiss.
He let out a low groan into your mouth and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling your hand away. Taking his length in his own hand he finally moved himself towards your entrance. His tip made contact with you and Aaron didn’t waste any time and started to press inside of you.
Because of the lack of foreplay, he made sure to give you enough time to get used to the intrusion, you hand now gripping his biceps for leverage. Once fully inside of you he let out a sigh, the hand not holding him up wandered to your face cupping your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open, making contact with his. Giving him a nod to signal him to start moving, he pulled out almost completely, before completely bottoming out again, the front of his pubic bone touching your clit in this position.
He pressed his chest against yours before finding a comfortable rhythm, slow but sure, adding so much more intimacy to the situation. The only noise that could be heard in the room where your joined moans and groans and the careful sound of skin hitting skin. It didn’t take long for you to get closed, his chest rubbing against your nipples, his pubic bone against our clit and his thick cock inside of you, an almost overwhelming experience.
By the way Aaron was panting and the way his cock twitched inside of you, you knew he was close.
“Please, come inside of me, Aaron. I’m so close," you whispered into his good ear on purpose. Your warm tight walls, your voice and that final little detail made him unravel, his cock spurting his cum into you, painting your walls white.
Aaron groaning into your ear and the sensation of his cum filling you, made the tight coil in you finally snap and you threw back your head with a moan of his name. He slowly came to a halt inside of you before peppering countless little kisses onto your face, helping you calm down.
Once the two of you had your breathing under control, Aaron placed a final kiss on your lips before pulling out of you, making you whine and him hiss at the loss of contact.
He unravelled from your arms and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. Joining you again he held a warm washcloth, which he used to clean you up with a gentle hand, running his free hand over your hip and soothing you. He threw it onto the bedside table before laying down with you again, opening his arm for you. Not hesitating for even a moment you scoot closer and lay your head onto his chest, your arm wrapping around his torso. His hand softly stroked your hair while the other one went to your hip, drawing small shapes onto your skin.
You tilt your head back to look at him. “Aaron, I have to tell you something,” his heart started beating faster, your ear still pressed to his chest, though he only answers with a hum and thoughtful eyes, “I wasn’t really honest with you in the past. I have feelings for you, Aaron, and I have for quite a while now. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with this, especially if you thought that this was only a one time thin-“ Aaron cut your rambling off with a kiss.
“Don’t worry, honey. I love you too.”
Content and also very relieved you place another quick peck on his lips before laying down on his chest again and closing your eyes.
It is to say that the rest of your road trip went without any further interruptions and the silence in the car was now anything but awkward.
a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen
requests open! (now also for the x files)
taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa @mmmmokdok people interested in the initial post: @lmg-stilinski24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @htchnr @casualkryptonitekitten @their-love @itsfelicity-emma @fanficrseblogged
#x reader#reader insert#ao3#love#fluff#no y/n#criminal minds#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fanfiction#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fluff#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner smut#p in v#aftercare#love confession#smut#softestqueeen fic
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⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ ➛ Eye Catching
F1 Drivers x Toto Wolf’s daughter
Summary: The only time you go to your dads and you already got the attention of the drivers.
Genre: SMAU
Fc: Various face claim, found the pics on pinterest
Note: grammatical errors and not proofread
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
───── ─ ೀ⋆。🌷─ ───────
Your Notifications:
Charle_Leclerc just started following you
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Yn.wolf just posted!
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Yn.wolf thanks for following lil ol me💋
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Charles_Leclerc are you perhaps single?
Yn.wolf hmm idk🤔 ask dad
User1 WAHAHAHHAHA GURL GOT HUMBLED FAST
Lewishamilton @Charles_Leclerc let a real man handle this
User2 The fact that all of them wants her
User3 ATE AT THE PADDOCK TODAY
User4 waiting for @Lewishamilton shot
User5 honestly same
Yn.wolf same😐
Landonorris Hi👋🏻
Toto_wolf uhm no
Landonorris I ONLY SAID HI
Toto_wolf you shouldn’t even be here right now at my DAUGHTERS post
User6 oohhh emphasis on the daughter huh
Carlossainz55 just saw toto’s comment, i’ll sit this one out
Toto_wolf best idea you ever had
User8 this is getting way out of hand😭
Yn.wolf couldn’t agree more
User9 y/n’s vibe is just so 😫👌🏻
…
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Urbff wow 2 flowers in one day, you must be rich!
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Toto_wolf tell me who.
Urbff even idk sir😭
Carlossainz55 hope you love it señora💞
Yn.wolf i do in fact my kind sir, gracias💕
Maxverstappen1 did you like mine?
Yn.wolf they were also lovely!
Maxverstappen1 thanks, took me an hour to pick the right one
Landonorris On my way to send flowers
Charles_Leclerc (2)
Toto_wolf i am blocking the mail service as we speak
Lewishamilton I haven’t even sent mine yet!
Toto_wolf dear god🤦🏻♂️
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Yn.wolf just posted a story!
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Replies:
Carlossainz55 my world😍😚
Yn.wolf 🤭🤭
Carlossainz55 i just love how, they think that they have a shot with you
Yn.wolf UR WAY TOO CRUEL MY LOVE😭😭
Lewishamilton can i get another shot?
Maxverstappen1 my cats said hi
Charle_leclerc that book seems heavy, want me to hold your hands?
Charles_leclerc book*
Landonorris i love you
Landonorris damn i mean the view, you got me crazy for a moment there
…
Short but hope you like it though💞
#imagine#fanfic#oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1#f1 x you#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader
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This is an Intervention
The JL have a serious concern about Marvel. This is because the man doesn’t know when to put down the bottle. Like, at a bar, he’ll just keep drinking and drinking and drinking without a care in the world. The man doesn’t show restraint in the slightest.
Meanwhile, Billy thinks nothing of this because he doesn’t actually know how much adults can drink without literally dying of alcohol poisoning. There’s also the fact that his Marvel form can’t get drunk so down and down the drinks go.
Their final straw was when they were all at a bar and Marvel was just downing shot after shot like it was nothing.
GL: “Uh… Cap? Why don’t you cool it on the shots?” *sounds nervous because how was Marvel doing that without even flinching*
Flash: “Yeah, man. Are you okay? We don’t want to have to carry you back to the Watchtower.”
Marvel: *looks genuinely confused* “Why would you have to do that?”
Speaking of which, despite being the person who drinks the most out of all of them, and that’s no joke, he out drank both Diana and Arthur, he somehow is always the person carrying drunk people back to the tower. He’s also the person who drives whenever Bruce wasn’t there, which now that they think about was extremely stupid to let Marvel do. It’s not even that he’s a bad driver or carrier. It’s just that the man drinks a lot.
Anyways, the point is, Marvel has a problem. A big one. So, as his friends, the JL wants to help in anyway possible. That includes staging an intervention for their friend.
Marvel: *walks into the meeting room, whistling a little tune*
JL: *sitting at the meeting table all looking solemn or grim*
Marvel: “Uh… Hey guys?” *awkward wave when he notices the tension*
Supes: “Marvel, could you sit down with us?”
Marvel: “…Sure?” *hesitantly sits down*
Supes: “Marvel… we called this meeting because we had something to discuss with you.”
Marvel: *looks slightly horrified because he thinks they know about Billy* “Is this you kicking me out of the league?”
Supes: “Wha- No! No, of course not! Look it’s just- Marvel, we’ve come here today because of another problem.”
Marvel: “Oh.” *relaxes slightly* “And that is?”
Aquaman: “Your drinking problem.”
Marvel: *looks extremely confused* “Drinking problem? I don’t have a drinking problem.”
GL: “Eh… Yeah you do, man. Look, there’s no need to feel ashamed or anything like that. We just want you to get help.”
Black Canary: “I can give you the number of a therapist who works in group therapy sessions specifically for alcoholics.”
Marvel: “That’s nice Canary, but I’m still not an alcoholic!”
He ended up going there anyways to appease them .
Marvel: “Well, I guess whenever I just pick up the bottle, I can’t stop. I’m a social drinker though. I only really do it around people.”
Therapist: “Yes, Mark.” (That name’s a reference to this post from a really really long time ago) “Everyone here is and or was a social drinker too. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged that you struggle to put down the bottle. That’s some good progress.” *writes in little notepad*
By progress, he means the fact that Billy adamantly denied that he was an alcoholic, which again, he wasn’t, but just decided to go along with it to get these group sessions over with.
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Dancing Through Life
Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader
Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.
A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).
I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!
It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.
I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.
Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.
I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.
“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.
“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.
I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.
“It’s Friday.” He continued.
I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.
“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.
“This is fun to me.”
“School work is fun?”
“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”
“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”
“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”
“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”
“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”
“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.
“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”
I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room to find another book.”
“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”
“No.”
I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.
“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”
He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.
“Hey give that back!”
I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.
“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”
Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”
I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?
“Princess?”
“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.
I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.
“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you two are a thing.”
Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”
My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.
“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.
That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.
I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.
“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”
“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.
“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.
“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”
I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”
I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.
“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.
“No I’d rather not.”
I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.
“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.
“How?”
“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”
“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”
“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”
“I’ll pass.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left her at home.”
Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.
“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.
Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”
I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”
“It’s beautiful.”
I stopped walking and choked on air.
“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.
“Which way is your room?”
I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.
“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.
“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”
“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.
“Y/n.”
Fiyero smiled at my response.
“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”
I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.
“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”
Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.
“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”
His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.
He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.
—————————
I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.
“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.
“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.
“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.
“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.
“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”
“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.
“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”
“Fiyero.”
Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.
“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”
“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”
I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.
When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.
Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.
Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.
“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.
“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.
“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”
“Oh?!”
“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”
“Hmm hmm.”
“Nothing else happened!”
“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“Why-“
“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”
Ezra looped his arm with mine.
“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”
“I’m not going to—“
“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”
Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.
“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.
“Well go on.” He prompted.
I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.
—————————
Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.
The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.
Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.
“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.
“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”
I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”
“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”
“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.
“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”
“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”
“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.
“Yeah him too.”
Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.
I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.
“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Alright then. Princess.”
“Y/n.” I corrected him
“Princess Y/n.”
I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.
“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”
“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”
“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”
I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.
“Not a chance.”
“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”
“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.
“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”
Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.
“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.
He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.
One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.
At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.
“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.
“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.
“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.
“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”
I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.
“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”
“I can for you.”
Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.
He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.
“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”
“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.
Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.
“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.
Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.
At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.
I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”
“Shut up.” I mouthed back.
“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.
I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.
Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.
#wicked#fiyero tigelaar#fiyero tigelaar x reader#galinda upland#wicked galinda#wicked fiyero#wicked film#winkie prince#ozdust ballroom#dancing through life
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Picture Perfect
pairing: logan sargeant x fem!photographer!reader
summary: logan’s girl travels with him as his personal photographer
a/n: I’m still working on the next Lando piece but I was out watching the northern lights last night and this one pretty much wrote itself
a/n: also and as usual I’m throwing timelines and official schedules and actual facts of races in the garbage. Living my best delulu life where Logan got the actual chance he deserved
305girl
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 1,231,445 others
tagged: logansargeant
305girl: my boy, my boy, my boy how I love you so…congrats on your first f1 race baby!! Despite everything you did so well today 🩵🩵🩵
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user1: that’s our American racer!!
↳user2: you did good today Logan!
oscarpiastri: first race down 👊🏻🧡 many more to go!
↳logansargeant: congrats osc! 🩵 we did it!
↳305girl: my racer boys!! You’re officially formula racers 💚💚
↳oscarpiastri: good to have you here for this — maybe you’ll get some photos of me next time
↳logansargeant: nope! Contractually only able to take my photos
↳oscarpiastri: seriously?
↳305girl: yup
↳user3: this is the best thing ever
user4: 🙋🏾♀️ new American fan - who is 305girl? Help?
↳user5: haha 🤣 she’s Logan’s girlfriend! They’ve been together for years - childhood friends I think!
↳305girl: correcto! Best friends since I threw down against some bullies for him
↳logansargeant: my knight in a sparkly pink skirt and mud stained tights
↳305girl: you know it!
↳user4: oh my god that’s adorable
alex_albon: congratulations on your first race Logan!
↳logansargeant: thanks Alex! Can’t wait for more
↳alex_albon: absolutely! We’ll come back stronger next time
305girl
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tagged: logansargeant
305girl: my boy looks so good in red I had to continue the theme featuring Paris and my darkroom
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user5: oh my god 😍🥵❤️ red is definitely his color
user6: Paris looks good on Logan!
↳305girl: you know it!
oscarpiastri: taking notes…📝
↳logansargeant: of what? My best colors?
↳lilyzneimer: 🤨 oh?
↳oscarpiastri: umm…🏃🏻♂️💨
↳305girl: let’s leave the boys to it, shall we?
↳lilyzneimer: let’s
↳logansargeant: hey!!
↳oscarpiastri: what??
user7: ok but where did you get the darkroom from?
↳305girl: it’s in our apartment in England! It was just a short trip to Paris during the break
↳user7: that makes so much more sense then what I was thinking
↳user8: …did you think that she just set up a dark room in a Paris hotel room?
↳user7: leave me alone!!
logansargeant
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liked by 305girl, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 2,790,469 others
tagged: 305girl
logansargeant: when the artist becomes the subject…thank you Miami! You were good to me this weekend! And a big thank you to my girl — I love you
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user9: somehow this post called me single in about 100 different ways
↳user10: same! 😭
↳user11: proof that if he wanted to, he would
305girl: my handsome man…I love you too! But when did you take these?
↳logansargeant: I’m a man of many talents!
↳305girl: evidently! I guess I’ll have to let you be behind the camera more often
↳logansargeant: only if you’re the subject 🩵
↳305girl: 🥹💚🥰
user12: congrats Logan! That’s our American points scorer!
↳user13: red white and blue baby!!
↳user14: woohoo!
alex_albon: show them how it’s done Logan! Congrats!
↳logansargeant: congrats to you too! Thank you
↳user15: Our Williams boys!
305girl
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 2,590,922 others
tagged: logansargeant
305girl: when in Rome (New York)…pizza is a must! And thank you Logan for your patience (and eventually your sweatshirt) while I got that lovely shot of the moon
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user16: I don’t know who to be more jealous of…305girl for being his girlfriend or Logan for having her as a girlfriend…
↳user17: the bi answer is both
↳user18: the ace answer is him cause that pizza looks supremely good right now
↳user16: 🤣🤣
logansargeant: oh I know that all of “my” sweatshirts are just on loan till they smell like me
↳305girl: you know it!
↳lilyzneimer: that’s a good answer!
↳oscarpiastri: …I’ll pack some of mine up for you
↳lilyzneimer: thank you!
user19: you guys are so cute together!
↳user20: they are!!
↳305girl: thank you! We’ve been together for nearly 7 years now
↳user20: oh my god! So long?
↳305girl: well…I had such a crush on him I talked my parents into letting me move to England with him so…
↳logansargeant: awwww…you had a crush on me?
↳305girl: obviously babe
↳logansargeant: enough to move to England?
↳305girl: I’ll go anywhere you go
↳logansargeant: 🥹🥹🥹
alex_albon: I don’t think pizza is an approved part of our diet plan…
↳logansargeant: shhh…don’t tell anyone
↳305girl: don’t worry alex_albon. I got him to work it off
↳alex_albon: really? In my comment thread?
↳305girl: don’t even 😂🙄
↳logansargeant: she made me carry ALL of her camera equipment
↳305girl: boyfriend privileges!
305girl
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tagged: logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe
305girl: oh to be back on British soil…Silverstone? Done ✅ A round of golf with 2 pros and their boyfriends? Done and done ✅
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lilymhe: it was so good to catch up with you!
↳305girl: it was! I’ve missed you in the paddock
↳lilymhe: 😓😓 don’t worry! This just in, I’m gonna abandon everything just to travel with you
↳alex_albon: ummm?
↳logansargeant: ummm?
↳lilymhe: i said what i said!
↳305girl: best day of my life!!
landonorris: you muppets!! Where was my invite??
↳alex_albon: must have got lost in the mail
↳305girl: didn’t even send it
↳landonorris: 😨
↳305girl: you stole Oscar from us! So we’re taking Alex from you
↳landonorris: no! You can’t do that!
↳oscarpiastri: so we’re not friends and not hanging out later?
↳landonorris: no! We absolutely are!
↳alex_albon: does our friendship mean nothing to you then?
↳landonorris: i give up
user21: girl are you just not gonna mention the absolute dressing down that you gave James?
↳305girl: I’ve been Logan’s biggest defender since we were 7. That’s not gonna change now
↳user22: girl he was running for his life
↳305girl: 🤷♀️🤷♀️🤷♀️ not my problem
user23: ok but who won
↳lilymhe: me
↳alex_albon: me
↳305girl: me
↳logansargeant: definitely NOT me (or Alex let’s be real)
↳alex_albon: mate…
↳logansargeant: I’m not gonna lie on the internet
305girl
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,822,445 others
tagged: logansargeant
305girl: are the stars in my eyes 🤩🤩 cause of Logan or that night sky? The world may never know…(it’s Logan! He won me a giant Pikachu at the arcade 🥰🥰🥰)
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user24: oh to have a boyfriend that would fly you around the world and win you giant Pikachus…
↳user25: water is wet. Fork found in kitchen. Me sleeping on the highway tonight!
logansargeant: 😊😊😊 anything for my girl
↳305girl: awwwww thank you baby
oscarpiastri: the real question is how long it took him though
↳305girl: not long at all! he is shockingly good at skeeball
↳logansargeant: shockingly?
↳305girl: babe I’ve taken you bowling before
↳logansargeant: not another word!
↳305girl: 🤭🤭🤭
alex_albon: logansargeant you’ve never won me a giant Pikachu
↳lilymhe: funny I was gonna say the same towards you!
↳alex_albon: 😑😑
↳logansargeant: sorry! Only the loml gets that privilege
↳305girl: 🥺🥰
user26: ok but are we gonna talk about how good this girl is at photography?? Like I came for Logan but damn im staying for her
↳user27: finally!! Like I love her Logan posts but literally everything else on her page is 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽
↳305girl: thank you!!
↳user27: I’m gonna need a 30 page PowerPoint and an entire YouTube series on how you do it
↳305girl: on it! 🫡🫡
305girl
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 3,127,445 others
tagged: logansargeant
305girl: Logan…this year has been insane in the best way possible. It has been a dream come true to watch you achieve your dream and to have the chance to be by your side for all of it? I have no words on how special it was for me. Congrats baby! This year was only the start of a long and successful career for you 😘💋💚💚
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logansargeant: babe…
logansargeant: I can’t find the words on what it means to me that you’ve been by my side this year. I don’t think I would have done as good as I did if I didn’t have your unwavering support and love. It’s been a long and sometimes difficult year but it was made infinitely easier knowing that yours would be the first and last face I see everyday. I know it was selfish of me to drag you through this rough schedule across the globe but I am so extremely grateful that you said yes when I asked. I love you
↳305girl: oh baby💚💚💚
↳305girl: believe me when I say there is NOWHERE I’d rather be than right next to you.
↳305girl: and let me tell you something — there’s only one other question you could ask me that would have gotten a quicker yes than when I agreed to follow you around the world
oscarpiastri: Congratulations! We did it Logan! One down and many to go!
↳logansargeant: that we did! Couldn’t ask for a better guy to do it with either
alex_albon: it’s been a fun year! Now let’s go rest and recharge cause next year is gonna be ours!
↳305girl: yes it is!!
↳logansargeant: couldn’t have said it better myself!
#f1 smau#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 instagram au#logan sargent fluff#logan sargeant smau#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 smau#formula 1 social media au#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#f1 fic#smau#imagine
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Thirst Tweets
Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)
!Disclaimer! I’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing. There will definitely be more parts, but not this week. I also have two oneshots saved that might go online this week, so don’t be surprised if you see them.
I'd be happy about some feedback and just a reminder to you, I have my requests open, so feel free sending some of your ideas! :)
Warnings: tiny bit of fluff and some swearing here and there
Enjoy!
Previous Part
---------------------------------------------------
Returning to New York felt like waking up from a beautiful dream I never wanted to end. Sydney had been a paradise - sunshine, the salty breeze from the ocean, and Hugh. God, Hugh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, behaving like love-drunk teenagers. Whether it was our sunset strolls by the harbor or cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets, we found ourselves growing closer every day. There was something magical about that time - like we were in a world of our own, free from distractions.
Hugh would sometimes visit his family, leaving me to explore Sydney on my own. I’d walk through the city, admiring the sights, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. But no matter where I went, I was always thinking about him. It wasn’t long before I’d be back at his place, sharing stories of my solo adventures while he teased me with that wicked smile.
Of course, the paparazzi had a field day. Every moment seemed to be caught on camera - whether we were laughing together at the beach, wandering the streets hand in hand, or lounging in the park. There were endless photos of us everywhere, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I found it kind of funny how we had become some sort of internet sensation. I had even started posting more pictures of Hugh on my socials - candid shots of him with funny, flirty captions. The fans ate it up, especially when I started liking and commenting on their fan edits of Hugh. They said I was fangirling hard, and maybe I was, but could you blame me? The man is perfect.
The hate we used to get was slowly dying down, too. People were starting to root for us. It felt good.
Today, though, was on a whole new level of fun. We were shooting a "Thirst Tweets" video, and it was as chaotic as you'd imagine. The energy in the studio was electric as we settled into the plush chairs, both of us trying to stifle our giggles before the chaos of "Thirst Tweets" began. I glanced over at Hugh, who looked far too calm for what was about to go down, his long fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his face carrying that familiar smirk that always made my heart race. It was like he knew exactly what was coming and how I’d react.
The first tweet was mine to read. I grabbed the small card from the pile and cleared my throat dramatically. “Okay, here we go…” I scanned the text quickly before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, okay. ‘I would let y/n punch me in the face just to say I’ve been touched by perfection.’ ” I couldn’t help it - I snorted.
Hugh chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?” he teased.
I leaned over, nudging him with my shoulder. “What can I say? I have violent fans.”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfection though? Can’t argue with that." he said, giving me a wink that made my face heat up.
It was Hugh’s turn next. He grabbed his card, took a quick glance, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘I’d like to officially announce that Hugh’s arms should be declared a public service. Like, those things could end world hunger. Use them for good, sir.’ "
I let out a loud laugh, slapping my knee. “See, this is what I’m saying! They should be protected. Maybe insured.”
He flexed a little - just enough to make me roll my eyes - and grinned. “I’ll take it under consideration.” he joked. The crew behind the camera was already in stitches, but I could tell this was just the beginning.
The next tweet was handed again to Hugh, and he gave it a quick scan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this one's good. 'Hugh, you can call me baby girl and tell me to sit down, and I would happily obey for the rest of my life.' "
I raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in my laughter. "I mean.. you do have that commanding presence."
He turned to me with a devilish grin, his voice deep and teasing. "You think I should try it out, love? Call you baby girl and see what happens?"
I immediately blushed, my laughter betraying how flustered I was. "Oh no, let's not give the fans more material!"
He chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Too late, baby."
He took the card with a dramatic flourish, his eyes quickly scanning it before he burst out laughing, almost choking on his words. “Oh no, this one’s for you, love. ‘Y/n really out here fangirling over Hugh like the rest of us. She’s one of us now.’ ”
I groaned, though I couldn’t hide my smile. "Listen, I am not fangirling!" I protested weakly, but Hugh gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it.
"Oh, you totally are!" he teased, nudging me playfully. “You’re in deep.”
I shot back with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with you. Can you blame me?”
The crew behind the camera was losing it by now, and I could hear some of them whispering amongst themselves, probably trying to stifle their own laughter. But we were just getting started.
I grabbed another card, still grinning. "Hugh could choke me with his biceps, and I'd die happy."
Hugh started laughing again, clearly enjoying himself. "There's a lot of love for my arms in this, isn't there?"
I looked at him, pretending to be serious. "I mean, have you seen your arms?"
He flexed again, playing it up for the camera. "I guess I have no choice but to deliver." I snorted loudly and leaned against him while laughing and hiding my face behind my right hand.
Hugh took the next tweet, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, here’s a spicy one. ‘Hugh, please, just throw me against a wall. Like, I’m begging you.’” He read it in such a deadpan tone that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.
He raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to compose myself. “Well?”
I fanned myself dramatically. “That’s a strong request, but relatable."
Hugh opened his mouth to say something but instead snorted with laughter and shaking his head. "Unbelievable."
I picked up the next card, already giggling before I even read it aloud. " 'Y/n’s laugh could cure my depression, I swear. She could rob a bank and I’d still be like, wow, what a cute laugh!' "
Hugh looked over at me, grinning. “See? You do have a cute laugh.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were burning. “I mean, if it works for bank robberies, maybe I should test it out.”
He gave me a look, smirking. “I’m not bailing you out.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to." I replied, laughing. “I’d just charm my way out of it.”
I grabbed the next card from the pile, glancing over at Hugh before reading it aloud. "Y/n, how do I sign up to be your sugar baby? I don't need much - just a little attention and maybe to sleep on Hugh's abs as a pillow."
Hugh let out a loud laugh, his eyes widening. "My abs, huh?" He leaned back, pretending to flex for a moment before winking at the camera. "I didn't realize they had so many applications."
I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to hide my grin. "I mean, you have to admit, they're not wrong. Those abs could solve a lot of problems."
He smirked, leaning in closer to me, his voice dropping a bit. "Is that what you think about every time you cuddle me, baby? Using me as your personal pillow?"
I nudged him, trying not to laugh. "What can I say? I'm resourceful."
The next few tweets were just as wild, some downright inappropriate but in a way that had us both cracking up. Hugh read a particularly bold one aloud: " 'Hugh in that leather jacket… sir, I’m on my knees. What do I need to do to get you to ruin my life?' " He paused, glancing over at me with a devilish grin. “What do they need to do?”
I covered my face, laughing into my hands. “Oh God. This is escalating so much!”
He looked at the camera and lowering his voice. “Maybe just say ‘please?’ ”
The crew burst out laughing again, and I could see the camera shaking slightly as the person filming struggled to keep it steady. By this point, even the sound guy was wiping away tears of laughter.
Hugh grabbed the next tweet from the pile, his eyes quickly scanning it before a sly grin spread across his face.
"Okay," he began, in that rich voice that could melt butter, "Here’s a fun one: ‘Hugh Jackman could breathe in my direction, and I’d immediately drop to my knees, ready to serve.’"
I let out an involuntary snort, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my!" I gasped between fits of giggles. "They went straight for it!"
Hugh, trying to maintain composure, turned toward the camera with a half smile. "Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm." he said, and then turned to me. "Is that something I should be adding to my skill set?"
I swatted his arm playfully, still laughing. "Please, let’s not turn this into a live demonstration."
Hugh chuckled and nodded towards the camera. “Fair enough. But hey, I’m flattered."
I grabbed the next tweet, scanning it quickly and feeling my face heat up even more. "Oh, this one’s good. ‘Y/n’s legs are so long, they could wrap around me twice, and I’d happily suffocate.’"
Hugh let out a low whistle, his eyes flicking down to my legs and back up to my face with a teasing grin. "I mean, they’re not wrong." he quipped, making the entire crew laugh again.
I gave him a playful serious look. "Careful, you might encourage more of this behavior."
He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Too late."
I passed the next tweet to him, still trying to suppress my laughter. Hugh's eyebrows shot up when he read it. “Oh, wow, okay. ‘Hugh could literally break me in half, and I’d say thank you.’” He paused, a devilish grin creeping onto his face as he looked up at me. “I’m sensing a theme here.”
The crew behind the camera was howling at this point again, and I could barely breathe through the laughter. "I mean… who wouldn't be thankful?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.
Hugh laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Should I be concerned for you people, or…?”
"Concerned, maybe. Grateful, definitely,” I replied, still giggling.
He handed me the next card, his smirk widening. “Your turn. Let’s see if it gets wilder.”
I took the card and immediately had to press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh God, here we go again… ‘Y/n could ruin my life, and I’d thank her by paying her rent for the rest of the year.’ ”
Hugh’s laugh boomed across the room, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, if you’re ever looking for a side hustle…”
I gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, rent’s expensive in New York. I might just take them up on that."
He wiped away a tear of laughter, still grinning. “You’d definitely have no shortage of offers.”
Another tweet landed in Hugh’s hands, and he gave it a quick read before raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh jeez, we’re diving straight into the deep end now. ‘Hugh Jackman’s voice is so hot, I’d let him read the phone book to me while I climax.’”
My jaw dropped. "NO." I immediately covered my face with my hands, laughing so hard. I would lie, if I'd say my body doesn't hurt of laughter by now.
Hugh, ever the professional, barely flinched. He just gave the camera a deadpan look. “The phone book? Really? That’s a bit outdated, but… hey, I’m here for it.”
I peeked at him from behind my hands, still laughing uncontrollably. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”
He winked at me, his voice dropping an octave. “If that’s what the people want, who am I to deny them?”
I playfully shoved him, still blushing furiously, but loving every second of the ridiculousness. “We need to talk about boundaries later." I joked.
He shot me a grin. “Boundaries? What are those?”
I took a deep breath, composing myself enough to grab the next tweet. The second I read it, I was gone again. “Oh, this one’s golden. ‘Y/n, I will pay you $1,000 to sit on my face. I don’t even need to breathe. Just consider it.’”
Hugh burst out laughing, clutching his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “A thousand dollars? Only? That’s a bargain!”
I covered my face again, my shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is officially out of control.”
Hugh leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on. You’re underselling yourself. You’re worth at least $10,000.”
I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe.”
By this point, the crew behind the cameras was barely keeping it together. The laughter was contagious, and it felt like the entire room was on the verge of tears from how absurd the tweets were getting.
Hugh, still grinning, took the next card, glancing at it before giving me a cheeky look. "Alright, last one for me. ‘Hugh, you could crush me between your thighs, and I’d die a happy person.’”
I dissolved into laughter again, leaning back in my chair. "See, this is what I’ve been saying!" I managed between giggles.
Hugh turned to the camera, looking far too amused. “I’m sensing a lot of… very creative fans.”
I wiped away tears of laughter, still grinning. “Creative is one word for it.”
With that, the video wrapped up, and the crew finally stopped laughing long enough to give us a round of applause. Hugh’s charm and my endless giggling made for the perfect combination, and I could tell this video was going to go viral the second it dropped.
One of the cameramen approached us, grinning. “I’ve been doing this for years, and that was easily the funniest shoot I’ve ever been a part of.”
Hugh smiled, thanking him, while I nodded in agreement. “That was insane!” I said, still feeling the buzz of excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard.”
After the shoot, we headed back to Hugh’s place to get ready for dinner. Ryan and Blake were coming over with their kids and dogs, and Hugh was in charge of cooking, much to his delight. He loved being in the kitchen, and it was one of those little things about him that always made me swoon.
While he started prepping in the kitchen, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I slipped into something simple but nice, touching up my makeup before making my way back to Hugh. He had his back turned, fully focused on whatever he was chopping up, so I tiptoed up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his back.
He jumped, clearly startled, but then relaxed into my embrace. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he chuckled, setting down the knife.
I grinned, squeezing him tighter. "Sorry, couldn’t resist." My hands slid over his chest as I pressed closer. "You look ridiculously good in that shirt, by the way."
He glanced down at himself - just a casual button up and jeans - but it worked for him in a way that made my heart race. “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me with a playful smirk.
“Yeah. Like.. annoyingly good." I teased, letting my fingers linger on the fabric. “Distractingly good. It's kind of a problem.”
He turned fully then, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaned in close, his voice low. “Maybe we should skip dinner then?"
I bit my lip, laughing softly as I pushed against his chest. "Nice try. We’re not blowing off dinner with Blake and Ryan. You know they’d never let us hear the end of it."
Before we could get any further into our flirt, the doorbell rang, and we both groaned. The Reynolds were right on time, of course.
With one last grin at each other, we reluctantly pulled apart. Hugh grabbed a towel to wipe his hands before we made our way to the door. When we opened it, we were greeted by a whirlwind of chaos - Ryan with the kids and Blake holding onto the dogs. It was loud and warm, the kind of energy that made you feel instantly at home.
Blake gave me a tight hug while Ryan and Hugh exchanged their usual friendly banter. We all gathered in the dining room, Hugh finishing up in the kitchen while Blake and I set the table, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing.
Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the occasional bark from the dogs. Hugh caught my eye from across the table more than once, and each time, I couldn’t help but smile. This was our life now - full of love, friends, and shared moments that felt like they could last forever.
And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.
---------------------------------------------------
@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1
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#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x you#marvel#wolverine#x men#hugh#jackman#fluff#hugh jackman imagines#oneshot#fanfiction#hugh jackedman#thirst tweets
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Making up after a fight - Jude Bellingham blurb
A/n - fluff, angst, comfort, suggestive
900 words. Jude*female reader.
……………………………………………………………………
‘You were amazing today. Congrats on the MOTM, so well deserved!’
You hit send, hoping for a response. You were supposed to be at the match, supporting him. But the two of you had gotten into an ugly fight just this morning. Which, in hindsight, was kinda your fault. But, hindsight is a bitch and you were downright furious in the morning.
A particular reel on your insta feed, of Jude with an upcoming Spanish actress, is what you had woken up to. The woman was gorgeous, and way too obvious with Jude - the hair flicks, side eyes, giggles, touching the arm for that extra second, all straight out of the playbook.
The hug though is what enraged you the most. Coz Jude had also wrapped both arms around her, not the typical one arm shoulder hug thing he usually did with other women. That, combined with the fact that Jude liked the pics she posted of the meeting made you blow your top.
To be fair, you had tried to avoid the fight before an important CL match, the first home KO match in-fact. But Jude had gotten impatient with your radio silence, pestered you for a call and then you couldn’t hold back.
He tried to explain that she was working on a social media campaign for RM, and other players had liked the post too. But you had shot back saying that was no reason for him to let that woman feel him up.
Jude was frustrated, and lost his cool too. This was not a new fight. You two had been here way too many times. Usually he was patient, knowing that his lifestyle was not ideal for a new relationship, but the timing of it, right before one of the most crucial matches of his career, is what irked him.
So yeah, it ended up with you not attending the match. Not even sending him a good luck message before the match, something you had never missed in the last 4 months since your first date. To top it off, you even used a nuclear weapon that you knew would set him off. By mentioning a colleague of yours who Jude hated with all the bones in his body.
It was only when you saw another angle of the video (taken on phone by other attendees) that you realised you had overreacted. The woman was still pathetic but Jude did pull back immediately from the hug, and maintained his distance. But, it was too late by then and the match had already started.
‘I am so proud of you, Jude.’
You were still on texts. Fully aware that if you call and he disconnects / doesn’t pick up, it will hurt you & your ego both.
The messages were seen. No response. It was now 1.5 hours after the match. He would be home already or on the way.
‘Wish I had been there, instead of moping all day.’
‘Why? That fucker wasn’t good company?’
Well at-least that was a response. At least.
‘Jude, I didn’t go. I wouldn’t. You know that.’
‘You had no problem throwing that in my face though.’
He was right, you could see that. It really was a low & petty blow. If only you were as clear headed in the morning.
‘I am sorry, baby. For that & everything else today. For assuming all those things without hearing you out. Really, I am.’
No response for 2 minutes, which made her anxious.
‘Don’t think I am cheating, then? Don’t think I am going to her right now or went to her last night?’
He was goading her, she could tell. But he was hurting too, that also she could tell.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Why the change of heart, when you were so convinced earlier?’
He wasn’t gonna make it easy for her.
‘Is that important? Look, I know I messed up. I know I ruined what could have been a great day for us. You really should be celebrating right now instead of feeling shitty. And I really really am sorry, Jude. Pls can we just get over this?’
A pregnant pause, again.
She doubled down with another nuclear weapon in her kitty.
‘I love you. So much it hurts. Yes I do get crazy sometimes but you know, in your heart you know where it’s coming from.’
If this doesn’t work, she won’t know what else to do.
1 minute later, her phone flashed.
‘I needed you today.’
She clutched the phone to her chest, sighing deeply, sensing his resignation.
‘I know, honey. Promise I will be there for the next big game. And whenever else you need me.’
‘It was so shitty to play like this. Not knowing where we stand. Not knowing if you were anywhere near that asshole. Might have tackled some of the guys extra hard today.’
‘Again, I am so so sorry. But I am also super proud that despite all this you still came out on top. Like you always do.’
Jude read and re-read the text a few times, sat in his car. She always knew what she was doing so this couldn’t just be a coincidence.
‘Tryna tempt me?’
‘Depends - is it working?’
‘Be careful what you wish for, doll. I don’t have a handle on myself today.’
‘Wanna come here & show me what that’s like?’
‘Gonna ask one more time - are you sure?’
‘Uh-huh. I do deserve some disciplining today, don’t you think?’
‘I’ll be there in 20. And doll, you may have to take an off tmrw.’
……………………………………………
#jude bellingham#bellingham#jude#real madrid#jb5#jb#jude fanfic#bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham imagine#Jude bellingham blurb
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idk if youve done something like this, but a you posted that with y/n and spencer and theyre having fun but theres an old tweet about how spencer likes y/n!! hope this makes sense <3
winter break stirred up some writing motivation, sorry to everyone who has expected more lol. this is a GENIUS idea anon, tysm <3
yeah, i posted that... | spencer agnew x reader
gender neutral reader, second person, embarrassed spence, real tweets from the boys!!
~~~
You were all in for another shoot on the Smosh Pit set, and today was no ordinary one. The much-anticipated episode of "You Posted That?" featuring Spencer Agnew, Shayne Topp, and you, Y/N, had been scheduled for months. You’d joined Smosh not too long ago after building a successful career as a standalone YouTuber, and this was your first time competing on the popular show. Ian Hecox, as the host, was already hyping up the event with his usual mix of sarcasm and self-deprecating humor.
“Welcome to another episode of ‘You Posted That?’” Ian announced dramatically. “Today, we’ve got three contestants who are about to question their own digital footprint. Please welcome Shayne Topp, Spencer Agnew, and Y/N L/N!”
The small audience on set cheered, and you waved nervously. Spencer, seated next to you, leaned over. “You’re going down,” he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.
“Big words from someone whose tweets are probably all queerbaiting jokes,” you shot back, earning a laugh from Shayne.
“Let’s get started with Round One: ‘You Posted That?’” Ian said with the same exaggerated cadence. “Here’s how it works: we’ll show you one of your posts with a few keywords blanked out. If you can guess the missing words correctly, you get five points. If not, zero points. Got it?”
The first round began with Spencer. The tweet displayed read: “I've had the _____ ____ ___ stuck in my head all day, but only the part where ___ _________ says "___ _ ___ _ ______".” After laughter rang out and a few moments of squirming, it clicked and he guessed “Naked Mole Rat” "Ron Stoppable" and “can I get a booyah” Ian grinned. “Correct!” he exclaimed, as Spencer let out a celebratory “YES!”
Next up was Shayne, whose post read, “______ _____________ > Everything else” Shayne furrowed his brow. “It doesn't fit but... Raisin' Canes?” he guessed, earning howls of laughter when Ian revealed the actual tweet: “Nature Documentaries” Spencer groaned, “Next time just go outside and scream 'I'm smarter than you.”
Then it was your turn. The screen showed, “Me: 'I’m going to bed early tonight.' Also me at 2 AM: Watching _ _____ ______ _ ____ _____” After some thought, you guessed “a woman eating a live squid,” earning you a solid five points. “Weird, but correct!” Ian cheered, as Spencer gave you a playful side-eye. “Real quirky to watch mukbangs,” he muttered. "Look at the year posted!" You laughed back.
The second round of guesses brought even more chaos. Spencer’s next tweet read: “If you _____ ____ _____ while working from home alone, you are a cop” He confidently guessed “wash your hands,” but Ian burst out laughing as he revealed the true answer: “brush your teeth.” Spencer buried his face in his hands as Shayne and you doubled over.
Shayne’s second tweet was equally absurd: “there's no "I" in ____________” He guessed “Unfunny,” but the actual word, “peamupbubber,” had everyone in stitches at the duality.
When it was your turn again, Ian read out: “Why do my plants thrive but not my ______ ______? Asking for a friend.”
"To be clear, this was cute in 2016," and after some embarrassed sighs, you guessed “social life,” earning another five points. Spencer groaned. “Stop being good at this!” he joked.
Then came the final round of tweets. Spencer’s face turned pale as his last post appeared on screen. It read: “If ______ ever gave me a chance, I’d drop everything. Just saying.” The room went quieter, and all eyes turned to him.
“Oh no,” he muttered under his breath.
“Spencer,” Ian said, barely containing his grin. “Care to fill in the blanks?”
Shayne burst out laughing "Dude, don't die on this show of all of them", and you stared at Spencer, your jaw dropping. “Spencer, what is it?” you demanded, though you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up.
“It was a long time ago! Before you joined Smosh! I didn’t think it would ever come up... its Y/N.” Spencer stammered, his face turning bright red.
“Wait, so you had a little crush on me, huh?” you teased, unable to resist.
“Little is an understatement,” Shayne chimed in, wiping away tears of laughter.
“Well,” Ian said, looking at Spencer with a playful smile, “5 points!”
The room erupted into cheers as Spencer laughed it off, but the embarrassment was clear as day. You kept looking at him, trying to give him the hint, but anytime he saw your bright smile, he turned crimson.
The shoot wrapped up fairly quickly after that, with your other posts being just as recognizable to you. Being the rightful winner you walked out happily, nearly skipping back to your desk next to the games pod. You saw Spencer awkwardly approach your desks before you had a chance to sit down.
"Hey, I'm really sorry about that. I had no idea that tweet even existed anymore... it was just- I don't know. I just hope I didn't make you uncomfortable," He apologized.
You quickly rebutted, "No no not at all, Spence. It was really sweet actually. I have never told you this but I felt the same way when I first joined."
"Wait really?" Spencer looked up at you with surprise and unbelievable relief.
"Might still feel that way now. If you do too?"
"Yes! I mean, yes, I do. I never got over it."
"Your crush on me?"
"Yeah, I posted that for a reason."
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Sunburnt
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5fb5cf118decd8b0a655fae9e1bc35f9/3328a87b34756d44-b1/s540x810/735ac37bd783de52c646678abc438e65ec6a3d75.jpg)
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Jack Hughes x fem!reader
summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn
notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺
[3.3k]
(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)
You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.
Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.
You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.
You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.
Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.
Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.
Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.
Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.
This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.
You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.
You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.
“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”
Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.
“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”
Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.
“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.
“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.
You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.
Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.
“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.
“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.
“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”
Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.
“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”
You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.
“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.
“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.
“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.
Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.
You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.
“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.
Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.
He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.
“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.
Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.
You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.
The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.
You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.
“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.
You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.
You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.
“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.
You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.
“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.
“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.
“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.
Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.
The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.
At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.
“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.
“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.
“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.
You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.
You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.
You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.
“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.
“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.
You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.
When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.
You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.
You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.
You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.
Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.
“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.
“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.
Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.
“Oh Lovey…”
You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.
“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.
Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.
Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.
You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.
Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.
“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.
“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.
He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.
You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.
“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.
“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.
“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.
He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.
“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.
You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.
After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.
“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.
“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.
Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.
He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.
“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.
“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.
“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.
He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.
“Jack, I’m still hungry.”
“Do you want me to go grab something?”
“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.
Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”
Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.
Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.
He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.
“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.
Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.
“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.
You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.
“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.
“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.
“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.
“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.
You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.
“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.
He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.
Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.
He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.
“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.
“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.
He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.
You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.
“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.
“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.
“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.
“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”
“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.
“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.
“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.
“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.
Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.
Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.
#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes#new jersey devils#hockey fic#hockey imagine#hockey#hughes brothers#jh86#nhl x reader#nhl blurb#nhl oneshot#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#nhl#nhl hockey#nhl playoffs
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Hello! I keep hearing that fandom culture has changed, and there are less comments now than there were years ago. Have you noticed this in your analysis? Is the percentage of comments being left today lower than before?
Hey! Thanks for the question -- it prompted me to start collecting data about comments (after procrastinating on it for a while, because I had to write new code to gather comment data). I've also seen other discussions from folks also thinking about how to do this kind of analysis (like in the fandom data projects community) -- hopefully we'll end up with multiple people attacking this from different angles and getting a variety of data about comments!
I'll give a sneak preview that partially addresses your question and contains some good news. If we look at the fraction of AO3 works that get at least one comment (focusing just on one-shots for now), I think things have gotten better over the past decade on AO3*:
In other words, it tentatively looks like more works were getting at least one comment in 2024 than in 2014 (for a variety of time periods). One caveat, though -- if a bunch of works with no comments got deleted in the interim, there will be survivor bias here. I'll try to look into that possibility later. Another caveat: this is based on only like ~100 randomly selected works from each year -- this may all change with more data!
Another interesting tidbit: I still see some of the 2014 works getting comments. In fact, ~30% of works have gotten new comments over 5 years after they were posted, and it looks like ~10% of one-shots posted back in Mar 2014 got a new comment in 10 years later, in 2024.
I'm still doing other analyses; there may be other factors that better match with the discourse around how comment culture has changed. It could be that comment activity peters out faster now than it did back then, for instance. Or the total number of comments left on the popular works is less now than it was back then (though my current methods may not be able to capture that). Edit thanks to quick eagle-eyed readers: it's likely that some of what people are thinking about is ratio of comments to hits -- that is hard to compare in 2014 to 2024, because we don't know which hits came from which years. But I am working on some analyses along those lines. :)
If you have other hypotheses about what's changed in commenting culture, feel free to share! I'll look into what I can.
Some methodology notes:
*I've been tackling this by comparing AO3 one-shots posted in early 2014 to one-shots posted in 2024, and comparing activity in the days/weeks/months immediately after the works were posted. (To start with, I'm only scraping the first page of comments for each work -- meaning the first 20 comment threads -- so there are lots of comments I'm potentially missing for the really popular works. But for many works, this captures all the comments, and I think it may be sufficient for a lot of the analyses I am interested in.)
I'm choosing to focus on 2014 vs. 2024 because 2024 is close to now (but it's been long enough for comments to have settled down a bit), and 2014 was well after AO3 was established (thus it was already a pretty lively time on AO3). I don't want to collect data about every single year because it's too time intensive/too hard on AO3's servers. But if people think that I should be looking at different years, I'm interested in feedback.
Because it's only been ~10 months since March 2024, I am limiting a lot of my analyses to only look at commenting activity the first ~10 months after works were posted in both cases.
#fandom stats#reader feedback#commenting culture#ao3#ao3 comments#toastystats#asks#toasty replies#op
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