#and i’ve done it twice (and counting) and look SO HAPPY doing it

[itsalwaysforyou]

went to my local poetry platform the other night & read some of my poems & my friend took a vid & they just sent me it and ☹️ i actually started crying when i saw it. i look so happy ☹️

[writingsbytee]

HE'S NOT YOU - AARON PIERRE X BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER

WARNINGS: 18+; minors don’t interact 

PAIRING: Aaron x Lauren, “Lo” (reader)

SUMMARY: You and Aaron are roommates and he gets jealous when you get hit on by a client. It switches POV’s throughout, so if that’s something you don’t enjoy, this might not be the one for you. 

TROPES: friends to lovers; mutual pining; soft-dom; use of pet names; mostly a lot of dialogue and fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,611

A/N: Ok y’all created a monster! I’ve been hooked reading what everyone’s been writing about Aaron. You guys are so creative! I’m a little sensitive about my writing because I’m just getting into it but I do accept constructive criticism/feedback. Happy reading! Muah <3 p.s. this isn’t proofread.

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Lauren?!” Aaron shouts entering your shared condo. He was so excited, Aaron got the call not too long ago that he’d just landed a major project. It's probably the biggest one he’s ever done so far. On his way home to share the good news, he picked up your favorite Indian takeout to celebrate.

Eyes frantically searching the common area, Aaron moved his search deeper into your home. ‘Where is she?’ he thought to himself. Finally, making it to your bedroom door he knocked twice. When he got no response after about 30 seconds he tried twisting the doorknob—the gentle click alerting him that the door was unlocked.  Aaron peeked his head in the door, swiveling from left to right looking for you. 

He could hear the shower now, and your gentle humming some song that you’ve been singing around your home for days. Aaron let out a gentle sigh before retreating out the door. That is before something on your bed caught his eye. Not thinking, Aaron pushed your door open and barged into your room. The black lingerie set with matching garter laid flat on your bed as if it took you all day to find the perfect set. 

Aaron was at war with his emotions. On one hand, he was turned on. The idea of his sweet, innocent Lauren on her knees waiting for him wearing this was almost too much to think about. On the other hand, he was pissed. Who was she wearing this for? Where is she going? Aaron reached out to touch the material. The lace was soft and delicate in his hands like it had been well taken care of.  How was he supposed to even look at you knowing you had this on under your clothes?

Aaron’s attention turned back to your bathroom door as he heard the water shut off. Quickly exiting your room he made it back to the kitchen to start unpacking the dinner he bought for you both. It was getting harder and harder for him to hide his true feelings about you. You both had met right out of college, completely on a whim. Aaron was looking for a roommate and posted an ad online. When you replied, you had no idea what’d be in store for you.

“Aaron you’re home!” You shouted as you made your way into the kitchen. You looked fucking phenomenal in your all-black ensemble. Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off you, figure accentuated in your slacks and button-up. Hair styled impeccably in a messy but neat low bun. Looking like a boss bitch in your power suit had Aaron a bit turned on.

“Don’t tell me you’re meeting a client,” Aaron groaned. He should’ve known that after seeing what you had laid out in the bed. You’re a PR agent for a few celebrities and big-wig politicians but you’d been going back and forth recently with some cocky CEO asshole. He’s been giving you the run-around, pitting you and another agent against each other. When you finally drew your line and decided that the money wasn’t worth it, your client had his team calling you nonstop. 

“Just a quick dinner. Put your shoes on and come with me. I’ll pay for all your drinks,” you persuade batting your eyelashes at him.  How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that?

“Fine but we’re taking my car,” Aaron says. You finally take notice of the dining room. Table set with candles and low lighting. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask as you spin around to look at your roommate.

Aaron takes on a sheepish expression, “I had some good news, and I wanted to celebrate with my best girl.”

Your heart warms at the boyish expression on Aaron’s face. Then you realize what he must be celebrating. 

“Wait! You got the part didn’t you!?”, your heart rate accelerates as your excitement gets the best of you. 

“I got the call today,” Aaron grins, all 32 of those perfect teeth on display. You let out a squeal before launching yourself into his arms. 

You begin to smother his face in kisses. 

“I’m so proud of you! You worked so hard for this opportunity Aaron. This was meant to be! I knew you had it in the bag! You have to come out with me now! We’re going to ‘the Flamingo Room’, it just opened.”

Aaron feels his face warm, “Nah, I don’t want to get in the way. You’re going there for work, not to party”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not taking no for an answer Aaron. If I have to drag your big ass out of here myself you’re coming with me. This meeting should be no longer than an hour, just finalizing a few details in my contract. Please come, I want to celebrate you.”

Aaron looks down at you, a small smirk forming, “How long do I have to freshen up?”

A small squeak leaves your lips as you run towards his room, “Forty-five minutes! Go shower, I’m picking out your outfit!”

A small chuckle leaves Aaron’s lips as he watches you dash down the hall. Tonight is the night, he’d decided. He would finally tell you how he felt about you. You were the first person he wanted to tell his good news to. The first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thing before bed. How could he not fall in love with you? You’re beautiful, successful, a comedic genius, had a body to die for.  He knows you’d caught him staring at that round plump ass more times than he could count.

Aaron had his hand on your lower back as he led you two into the lounge. 

“If it wasn’t obvious, you look beautiful princess,” Aaron said looking down at you. Your cheeks warmed a shy smile forming on your lips. Doesn’t he know that he can’t say these things to you? You’d been hopelessly in love with your roommate for almost as long as you two had been living together. Did he know that? Obviously not.

“Thanks, big guy,” you say, kissing his cheek and wiping the excess lipgloss off. Aaron loved it when you doted on him like that. He didn’t want you to wipe the gloss off his cheek, he wanted to wear it like a badge of honor.

You flag the bartender giving her your card to start a tab.  “Anything that big guy wants just put it on my tab, thanks gorgeous,” you said winking at the bartender. Not that she noticed, she was too busy staring at Aaron. Not that you can blame her he looks fucking delicious in his all-black ensemble, the semi-sheer button-up being the star of the show. You could see your client waving at you from across the room. Putting a finger up to signal ‘one minute’ you turn to Aaron.

“Ok, I shouldn’t be too long. He’s only getting an hour and fifteen minutes, and then I’m all yours.”

“Mm I like the sound of that, hurry back,” Aaron said smirking over the rim of his glass, which got to him surprisingly fast.

You feel your cheeks warm, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips before muttering a goodbye and heading to your client. You had to get your head on straight, mind turning to mush whenever Aaron was around. In your mind, you decided that you were finally going to tell him how you felt about him. You wanted him like you’d never wanted a man before. Not wanting to disrupt the bond you two already had, but something had to give. 

“Lauren, can you hear me?” Your client said. 

Snapping back to reality you plastered a fake smile. 

“Yes Charlie, I’m listening. Just enjoying the view,” you say glancing toward Aaron again. He looked so fucking sexy leaning against the bar. With his 6’3 frame and impressive build he towers over most people. 

“So have you read over the file I gave you?” you ask taking a sip of the red wine he’d ordered. It was strong and bitter, which wasn’t your taste, but you were being polite. 

“Yeah, everything seems in order. Legal finally agrees with all the changes you’ve proposed. I have it ready to sign”, Charlie says. 

“Great!”, You beam. You could sign and get back to Aaron. You wanted to let loose and have fun, you’d been working nonstop with finalizing your contract and a break is within your reach. After signing, you slid the contract back over to Charlie. You glance back in Aaron’s direction, a small frown forming on your lips as you see the bartender flirting with him. A small huff leaves your lips as you re-focus on your client. 

“So we’ll be spending a lot of time together? You better get used to seeing this ugly mug” Charlie asks with a smirk on his face. Charlie was fine, the best way to describe him would be a Paul Walker doppelgänger. He’s the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and has recently had to have a change in PR firms due to a conflict of interest. 

“Me or someone else from my team at the firm,” you say with an awkward smile. Charlie’s fine that’s not the issue, the issue is standing across the lounge looking like Scar personified. Aaron shoots you a small smirk before mouthing ‘Hurry up!’. You bite your lip to contain your grin, you were so far gone for this man. 

“I’d prefer you if I’m being honest, not too often my PR agent is so easy on the eyes,” Charlie smirks, topping off your glass. 

“Oh Charlie ever the charmer,” you squeeze out a fake laugh. Ok, it was time to end this meeting now.

“Well, if you have no other questions or concerns I have a personal obligation I need to get to”, you say rising slowly. Charlie shoots out of his chair coming to your side to pull the remainder of your chair out. 

“Of course! My driver’s right outside. Walk me out?” He asked offering you his arm. You finish your drink before grabbing your purse and his arm. Leading you two outside. You sneak a glance in Aaron’s direction to see him with an annoyed frown on his face. Charlie guides you the rest of the way out of the club, you two approaching a blacked-out suburban. You spot Charlie’s driver get out to open his door. He stops short turning towards you.

“I look forward to working more closely with you,” Charlie said grabbing my hand. He brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss there. 

You open your mouth to reply but before you can an arm snakes around your waist. 

“Hey, baby you almost finished?” Aaron's voice takes you by surprise as his hand spreads across your hip. 

Your eyes widened as you looked up at your usually gentle giant.

“Just about. Aaron this is my new client Charlie. Charlie this is Aaron, my boyfriend”, the lie slips so easily from your lips. It feels natural. 

“Oh hey man, nice to meet you. I’m a big fan,” Charlie says reaching his hand towards Aaron. They shake and an awkward silence settles among you all. 

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer than I have to. You guys have a good night. Nice to meet you Aaron,” Charlie has a slightly frightened look on his face as he retreats toward his car. We watch him get in and drive away before you spin in Aaron’s arm, an accusing smirk on your face.

“You couldn’t wait five more minutes?” you asked chuckling slightly.

“Nah, motherfucker was getting too handsy. He needed to know his place.”

You were barely paying attention to what he was saying. Aaron’s chest is puffed out, his face in that beautiful scowl you love, and his voice has dropped a pitch. Oh god, he’s hot when he’s being all possessive. 

“What’s the matter? You jealous big guy?”, you ask looking up at him.

Aaron looks down at you, something flashes in his eyes.

“You know what? Yeah, I was getting pretty pissed off at watching him make googly eyes at you and you laugh at all his jokes. I don’t want to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you anymore. You can’t deny our chemistry. When I got the call today, you were the first person I thought of calling. I’m sorry if I jumped in and messed up the end of your deal, I was just tired of seeing him touch you,” Aaron exhales his face softening. 

“I wish you’d told me this sooner. We could’ve been dating by now! I never wanted Charlie Aaron, he’s not you” You laughed launching yourself into his arms. 

“So I take it you feel the same way?”, he’s smirking down at you, gaze lingering on your lips.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. Surprised I didn’t give myself away,” you say rolling your eyes playfully. 

“ I should’ve said something to you sooner, you’re right. I just would rather have you as my friend than nothing at all. Come on let’s go inside, we still need to celebrate”, Aaron places a kiss on the corner of your lips before grabbing your hand and leading you back inside. 

You were on cloud nine. That all happened so quickly that it seemed too good to be true. You forgot who you were dealing with, Aaron is so emotionally intelligent and articulate with his thoughts. Effective communication was such a turn-on for you. You allowed Aaron to lead you inside, turning your brain off.

You loved the fact that Aaron’s a real man, no coaching, no faking, just a real man. He knows how to communicate, he’s thoughtful, caring, and sweet. He never lets you walk on the same side as traffic. Always seem to know what you need before you know it yourself. He’s always been in-tune with you and your emotions and vice versa. 

Aaron’s heart rate hadn’t slowed down yet. He was scared shitless that you were going to reject him. When he saw the way your eyes lit up when he made his confession he didn’t know why he was so scared in the first place. He’s in love with you. Is he going to tell you that now? No, probably not, soon though. Now he’s just going to enjoy the night and hopefully finish it with his face in between your thighs.

You wanted Aaron. Your back pressed against his front as you two danced. Aaron’s hand snaked around your waist pulling you closer, the action making your tummy flutter. 

You spun in his arms taking in the tall drink of water in your arms. “You look so fucking sexy in your outfit. I did a good job”

Aaron tilts his head back, a bark of laughter leaving his lips. “Thank you, princess. I love being dressed by you.”

Your cheeks warmed and a soft smile formed on your face.

“Yeah? you like it when I call you that don’t you baby?” Aaron asks his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. Your mind goes blank, did he just..

“Answer Daddy when he asks you a question princess,” Aaron says his voice taking on that low rattle that does shameful things to your imagination. You look up at him, this Aaron looks completely different from the Aaron you arrived with. Pupils blown wide, eyes the color of a foggy Oregon forest, and his lips partially upturned into a devious smirk. This man looks like sex.

You nod slowly, “Yes Daddy,” you whisper. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the atmosphere in the club but you’d do anything right now to please this man. 

Aaron hums happily, “That’s my good girl. You look so pretty tonight, you wanted us to match huh?”

“Mhm, I love that shirt on you, it brings out your muscles. You couldn’t be sexier if you tried,” you said rubbing your hands up and down his arms. 

“Mmm, trying to sweet talk me, princess?” he asks pulling you closer. You had to crane your neck to look up at him. Even in your heels, your 5’3 frame was dwarfed by his size.  You loved how big he was, but he didn’t show it. His size is a byproduct of his commitment to his health and well-being. 

“Maybe I am. Who can blame me? You’re the most handsome man here, and that’s just looks. Nobody here knows how funny, sweet, caring, emotionally articulate -,” you were abruptly cut off by Aaron pressing his lips to yours.  It was like the world stopped. Of course, you’d imagined kissing Aaron but that was nothing compared to the real thing. His lips are as soft as they look, providing the perfect amount of pressure. A soft whimper leaves your lips as Aaron’s hand grips your waist. Aaron pulled away and you chased his lips drunk on the feeling of kissing him. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he chuckles. You look up at him a little dazed. 

“C’mon baby, let’s get out of here. I’m ready to have you all to myself,” Aaron leads you back to the bar to close out your tab (of course he gave his card to the bartender the minute you turned away) before heading out.

You can feel the charged energy between you both as you leave the lounge. You feel like a kid on Christmas, waiting and waiting for Santa to come and now that he’s here you’re ready to unwrap your present. Aaron opens your door and helps you in, the 3 glasses of wine you had finally catching up to you. You’re not drunk, just a tiny bit buzzed. Butterflies driving monster trucks are roaming around in your belly. You can smell the citrus and sandalwood of Aaron’s cologne and you hum happily.

“You smell so good,” you sigh whimsically.

Aaron reaches across you to buckle you in and chuckles, “Thank you, princess. Let’s get you home yeah?” You nod before leaning up and placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah Daddy, take me home.”

“Fuck, I need you princess,” Aaron groans as he pushes you through the front door with his lips attached to your neck. 

You turn in his arms, deft fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “I would rip this off you but, you look so good in it,” you smirk up at him.

“Sweetheart, you’re testing me here. I’m trying to be patient but keep it up and watch what happens,” Aaron said pupils blown so wide his eyes look like a storm cloud. You take your fingers off his top before taking a small step back. Your fingers now coming up to your own blouse. Fingers working through the buttons one by one. 

Aaron leans up against the wall biting his lip as he watches you undress for him. 

“Slower,” he says kicking off his shoes. 

Your blood ran hot, you had no idea how to be sexy. Lacking in sexual experience, your last boyfriend breaking up with you because it, you were now in your head more than ever. Fingers hovering over your third button you begin second guessing yourself. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if you’re not as experienced as he likes?

The negative thoughts start swirling around in your mind so rapidly, you don’t even realize when Aaron makes his way over to you. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hmm?”, Aaron reaches up to your blouse his hand gently moving yours aside. 

You shake your head avoiding eye contact, “Nothing.”

Aaron grabs your chin tilting your head back to look into his eyes, “Lauren if we do this, I need to know what you’re thinking, and I need you to be honest with me. I’m not here to judge you so tell me. What’s got your face all frowned up?”

“What if I’m not what you expect? When I take my clothes off. You work with models, beautiful actresses. My body doesn’t look like theirs”, you say all your insecurities spilling out. Your hands clasped in front of you wringing them together (a nervous trait you have).

Aaron’s face hardens, he couldn’t believe you’d say those things about yourself. How couldn’t you see how unbelievably sexy you are. Now he was going to have to show you.

“Lo, do you trust me?”, Aaron asks. 

You nod your head giving him a positive answer, “Baby, of course I do.”

A sinister smirk takes over Aaron’s face, “Then be a good girl and go upstairs, take everything off except for your underwear, and wait for me on my bed.”

GOTCHA!!! If y'all want a part 2 PLEASE like and comment. As always constructive critisism is appreciated but, please be gentle.

@simplyzeeka

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

[sargebarnesx]

Sweetness

Pairing: Jim Hopper x unnamed female OC

Rating: 18+ ONLY

Warnings: unprotected sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk, pining, spanking, Hopper's thighs in jeans (felt that this deserved to be here), little bit of instalove/lust

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: Jim Hopper could use a little sweetness in his life.

Author's Note: I’ve been working on this for forever but edited it pretty quickly so I apologize for any mistakes!

Monday

The bell over the door rang lightly. He looked out of place in the small bakery, the tan colors of his uniform contrasting with the baby blues and baby pinks adorning the walls. His eyes scanned over the various pastries, cookies, and cakes, sitting pretty in their cases underneath cozy lights.

“Good morning, how are y-oh hey Chief! How are you this morning?”

She emerged from the back room, wiping her hands on a white towel. Her hair was pulled back in a clip but she had loose strands sticking to beads of sweat on her forehead. Bits of flour were sprinkled among a smattering of freckles.

Jim Hopper raised a hand in greeting. “I’m good, honestly just hungry. Thought I’d stop by and see what you had available this morning.” He stepped closer to the counter.

She swiped her towel over her face before tossing it on a back counter. “We have muffins, croissants, bagels, donuts. We also have a small coffee bar. Any of that sound good to you?” She met his gaze from behind the counter, a good foot shorter than him. Her apron was tied twice around her waist, emphasizing her full hips. He noticed that the same freckles that decorated her face also covered her hands, arms, and chest.

“A coffee and a…” he trailed off, leaning back to eye the other case, “Blueberry muffin please.”

“You got it, Chief,” she turned away to grab a paper bag.

He had known her for a while; he remembered her from high school but she was younger, maybe a freshman while he was a senior. Her parents were an integral part of Hawkins, the owners of a sandwich shop down the road.

He felt she had barely changed over the years, other than the fullness of her figure, the length of her hair, the warmth in her eyes. He recalled her younger brother’s recklessness, his run-ins with the law. She wasn’t anything like him, at least not to his knowledge. Jim couldn’t imagine the person who ran a place like this had any interest in being reckless.

“Here you go,” her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see her holding a coffee cup and a paper bag out to him. “How much do I owe you?” He asked, reaching for his wallet. She shook her head, “It’s on the house.”

“No way, let me-“

“It’s on the house,” she repeated softly, “Happy Monday, Chief.”

Jim smiled in thanks, taking his items from her. She smiled back as he retreated towards the door and back to his Blazer. He pinched a small piece off of his blueberry muffin on the way to the station.

It was the best muffin he had ever tasted.

Tuesday

She blew out a breath, nearly dropping a tray of bagels on the counter. It was 7:45 am, and Kimberly, her opener, was supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago. She had been here since 3 am and frankly, her arms were tired and her back hurt. She really didn’t want to work all day but it was looking like she’d have to. She had planned to leave at 9:00 am when her other staff members were scheduled to arrive but such is the life of a business owner.

She hurriedly finished setting up her cases, taking note of what needed to be done that day. Hawkins was a small town but she was lucky enough to be a local favorite. She had made countless birthday cakes for the children of her former classmates, baked bread that would be sold at her parent’s sandwich shop, and catered desserts at the Hawkins High reunion every year. Baking was her passion but going to a doctor’s appointment and taking a short nap before returning to the bakery in the afternoon was taking precedence today.

She could hear a car pulling in and she hoped it was Kim, better late than never. She started walking to the door but hesitated when she saw him.

Jim Hopper was here.

Again.

She opened in exactly one minute and Jim Hopper was parked in a spot right outside her door, patiently waiting. As she stared at him, she noticed Kimberly walking quickly across the street. She unlocked the door and pushed it open as the young woman babbled, “Oh my goodness I am so sorry I’m late, I will stay late today to make it up to you, I am so sorry.”

“That’s fine,” she murmured, following her inside, “Can you refill some coffee supplies, please? I didn’t have the chance to yet.” “Sure thing!” Kim replied, grabbing handfuls of supplies and carting them over to the small table in the corner. She started her trek to the back when she heard the bell over the door ring.

“Good morning!” Kimberly called and she heard Jim give a gruff “morning” in response.

“Fancy seeing you here, Chief,” she said, leaning onto one of her cases.

“I won’t lie, I haven’t stopped thinking about that blueberry muffin I had for breakfast yesterday,” he admitted sheepishly, “And please, call me Jim.”

She was silent for a moment while she took in his appearance. He looked…tired. Stressed. She imagined that working as the chief of police wasn’t an easy job, even in a small town like Hawkins. And she knew that he had been through a lot in the past. Even with the slight discoloration under his eyes, she couldn’t deny that he was attractive. Honestly, she was harboring a small crush on him and had been for years. He was tall and strong, and she had always been fixated on his hands. They were large, with long fingers. She imagined he was the type of man who had rough, callused hands that would feel absolutely delicious dragging across her skin. She’d never tell him that, though.

“Alright…Jim,” she said with a smile, “What would you like today? Another blueberry muffin?”

His eyes scanned her case, “I’m thinking…a blueberry muffin and a banana nut muffin. And a coffee, of course.”

“Sure thing,” she reached for a white paper bag while her opener asked him about his coffee preference. God, now she couldn’t stop thinking about his hands. And his beard. And his mouth.

She needed to stop.

Her cheeks were no doubt stained pink, she could feel the heat rising to them. She felt a hand on her arm. “You alright?” Kimberly asked, holding Jim’s receipt in her other hand, “Can I have his bag please?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry!” She folded the bag closed and handed it over. Jim was smirking on the other side of the counter, “Got a lot on your mind?” She chuckled, “You have no idea. I hope you enjoy your muffins.”

Jim nodded, “Oh, I know I will. That chocolate donut is catching my eye too though.” He pointed at one of her favorite desserts, a chocolate-frosted donut with sprinkles.

“I love those,” she said, “But they’re really sweet, maybe a little too sweet for breakfast.”

“Eh,” Jim shrugged, “I could use a little sweetness in my life.”

Wednesday

Hopper had a crush.

He was a 44-year-old man and he had a crush.

He couldn’t get her off of his mind. Her soft hair was always sprinkled with flour. Her eyes, the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen, surrounded by long, dark lashes. Her smile was framed by full, luscious lips. He thought about her first thing in the morning, thought about her making him blueberry muffins in nothing but his t-shirt while he got ready for work. She crossed his mind at lunchtime, distracting him from his paperwork with her puzzling looks and skilled hands. And at night, when he laid in bed alone with his cock squeezed in his fist, he would think about her naked and on her knees, with those sweet lips wrapped around his length.

Fuck.

He needed to see her again, but the phone was ringing off of the hook and the paperwork was piling up on his desk. There was no way he could make an excuse to take a mid-day trip to her bakery.

Unless…

Jim tossed the stack of paper he was rifling through onto his desk and stood abruptly. He grabbed his keys and his hat, placing the latter atop his head before walking out of his office. “Anybody up for some donuts?” he asked, not even stopping for an answer, “I’ll be right back.”

Powell and Callahan looked at each other in awe over a massive stack of folders between them. “Eh, at least we get donuts,” Callahan lamented, shrugging.

Jim made it to the bakery in record time. He eagerly reached for the door handle in the Blazer before he paused.

Relax.

He climbed out of the Blazer and walked coolly to the door, pulling it open. He heard the bell ding overhead.

“Good afternoon, Chief Hopper!”

It was the young girl who was working with her yesterday morning. She was nowhere to be seen. Hop nodded at the girl behind the counter. “Uh…” he started, “Can I get 2 dozen donuts, please?”

“Of course!”

Hopper tried his best to be inconspicuous as he looked above the young girl’s head into the kitchen. He didn’t see her anywhere. “Do you have a preference on which donut you’d like more of, Chief?” the girl asked, showing him a half-filled box. “Let’s get more of the chocolate iced with sprinkles,” he said, pointing to the remaining donuts in the display.

“My favorite.”

There she was. She must have come in from a back door because he hadn’t heard the bell ring. She was wearing a dark blue spaghetti-strap dress. It had scalloped edges, an eyelet design, and stopped just above her knees. Her hair was down from her normal ponytail and she was wearing a bit more makeup than usual. She carried an empty tray.

“We have more in the back to refill the case, Kimberly,” she mentioned to her employee passively while keeping her eyes on him, “I’ll check him out.”

“I’m sure you will,” he thought he heard Kimberly mumble under her breath as she closed the donut boxes and handed them to her. They stood facing each other now, with only a register in between them.

“Treating the guys at the station to some donuts?” She asked, punching in a few numbers on the register. Hop nodded, “Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about them, so…”

Was he crazy or was the tension between them thicker than ever right now?

Jim eyed the outline of her dress, tracing the skirt down and then back up to her waist, noting the cinched fabric creating the most tempting slope, the perfect place for his hands. She watched him and yet he didn’t stop. Her skin was glowing with moisture from the summer heat and he imagined what it would taste like if he licked from her collarbone to her jaw. He imagined that she tasted like buttercream frosting and the thought made his cock half-hard.

“Definitely haven’t stopped thinking about them,” he repeated, meeting her eyes with a smoldering gaze. She grabbed his donuts and walked around the counter, holding them out to him. When he took them, his fingers brushed against hers.

“Thanks, Sweetness,” he murmured, a sly grin playing across his features, a playful glint in his hooded eyes. Her eyebrows knit together and she smirked, “Sweetness?” He didn’t respond, just winked at her as he took the boxes and pressed the door open with his backside.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” She called after him, but the door had already slammed shut.

Thursday

Sweetness. He had called her Sweetness.

And he came to the bakery three days in a row. There had to be a reason.

She had known Jim for a long time, considering they had both grown up in Hawkins. She remembered when he was a young boy leading the pack, she remembered when he would smoke cigarettes under the bleachers and she would hear rumors about his flirtations, his skill as a kisser. How he’d trailed his hands under skirts in the backs of classrooms. She remembered when she came back from college and he came back from Vietnam, when he got married and had his daughter. She remembered the tragedy of his loss and the way it affected him. But she was always an outsider, a spectator, and honestly, an admirer.

He had been so handsome throughout every stage she had known him, especially now. His thick, sturdy, strong body towering over her, his beard with the beginnings of salt and pepper growing in. She always stared at his arms, his thighs, wondering what they felt like. Those strong arms wrapped around her, reaching down to grope at her ass. His thighs were a perfect seat for her to grind her desperate pussy on, while she dug her nails into his shoulders, his growls shaking her entire body.

“My God, you are so into him,” Kimberly’s voice broke through her daydream.

“Wh-what?” She stuttered, grabbing at frosting bags to keep her hands busy. Kimberly smirked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. “You are so into the Chief,” she replied, “It’s obvious.”

“Kim, are you serious? I don’t know why you would think-“ she broke off when she noticed Kimberly’s look of doubt. Her cheeks turned an intense shade of red and she hid her face with her hands. “I am totally into the Chief,” she finally admitted.

Kimberly clapped her hands and squealed, “I knew it! You’ve been looking over at the door every hour to see if he’s coming in again today.”

Kimberly was right. The older woman’s eyes had been glued to the door all day, almost like a magnet was drawing them together.

“Can you blame me? He’s come in every day this week! I can’t help expecting that he’ll come in today too,” she explained, piping a border onto the small cake in front of her. Kimberly grabbed a coffee cup and a black marker and held them out to her, “When he comes in, you should give him a cup of coffee on the house with your number written on it.” She looked at Kimberly with apprehension, “You don’t think he’d see that as juvenile?” Kimberly shook her head, “I think he’d love it.”

She put down her piping bag to take the cup and the marker. Kimberly smirked again and left her to her own devices to tend to the front. Would Jim like that, her number written on a cup of coffee? She couldn’t help but think they were too old for these games but maybe he’d find it…endearing.

She heard the bell ring. “Oh, hello Chief Hopper!” Kimberly announced way too loudly to be casual. She would have to reprimand her for that later. But it was now or never. Make a move or regret it. She quickly scribbled her number on the side of the cup and once she knew it was dry, she pressed that side against her palm and walked towards the coffee bar.

His eyes were on her as soon as she stepped into view. “Hey,” he greeted, handing Kimberly a few dollars without even looking at her. She smiled in response and began filling the cup. “I’d been wondering if we were going to see you today,” she said, pressing a lid onto the cup. He chuckled, “Here I am.”

The coffee cup felt scalding hot against her skin, “Coffee on the house?” She offered it to him and knew immediately that he would refuse. “I can’t let you do that, please let me pay,” Jim reached for his wallet, fisting his pastry bag in the other hand. She held up a hand. “Jim, please,” she held it towards him once more, “It’s on me.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment and she could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to her lips before meeting her own again. He was in jeans today instead of his normal uniform - jeans that hugged his thighs and his ass in just the right way. God, she wanted him so bad. Wanted to feel those taut muscles under her hands, wanted to feel the brush of his beard on her skin. Could he tell that she was fantasizing about fucking him right in the middle of her bakery?

Kimberly cleared her throat, which seemed to break both of them from a trance. Jim wrapped his hand around the coffee cup and the sudden loss of warmth was jarring. “Thank you for the coffee,” he said, raising it like he was toasting to her. She nodded, “Thank you for stopping by.” And just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone.

“Did you even notice the other customer that was here while the two of you were making goo-goo eyes at each other?” Kimberly asked, punching numbers on the cash register.

“Nope,” she replied, rounding the counter and smirking at Kim, “Also, you should work on that whole ‘being casual’ thing.”

Friday

The number on his cup told him everything he needed to know.

He was going to make his move. Tonight.

He’d wear some jeans - she couldn’t take her eyes off of him yesterday when he had shown up in his relaxed-fit jeans. He’d wear cologne - nothing too heavy, just a little something to complement his natural scent. Whatever that was. Coffee and cigarettes? Women he’d been with before usually told him he smelled like a real man, so maybe she’d like it too.

It was 7:15 pm - her bakery closed in 45 minutes. He would make it there in ten minutes from the cabin. His palms were sweaty against his steering wheel, but he blamed that on the summer heat, not nerves, as he navigated the downtown streets.

He parked, noticing a lack of cars out front. Perfect. He could see her through the door as he approached. She was sweeping, wearing her usual apron, blouse, and loose jeans combo. Her hair was down, swaying with each brush of the broom. He pushed the door open and she turned at the sound of the bell.

Her cheeks tinged pink as soon as she saw him. “Hi Jim,” she said softly, leaning the broom against the closest table. “Hey Sweetness,” he replied gruffly, walking towards her, eyeing her up and down as he did so.

When their eyes met, it was like they were locked, and neither of them had enough willpower or want to find a key. Her eyes were warm, like a cup of coffee with a swirl of creamer. My God, she was so beautiful. What he wouldn’t give to trace his fingers along her cheek and brush his lips against her jaw. And fuck, he wanted to run his tongue down her neck to that expanse of skin that was exposed under her v-neck shirt.

“Something on your mind?” She questioned softly, her eyes flicking to his mouth. He nodded, “Yeah-“

But at that moment, he was surprised by her sudden movement to press her lips on his.

Jim didn’t hold back. He gripped her soft hips, pulling her into him, against his already hard cock. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, feeling her jaw move against his palm as she opened her mouth to welcome his greedy tongue.

“Jim,” she murmured against his mouth, groaning as he latched his lips to the skin of her neck and slid his arms around her waist. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Jim admitted, his face still buried in the crook of her neck, “Everything I wanna do to you.” She nodded in agreement, “Me either. I want you…want your cock…fucking hell, Jim, I need you.”

He chuckled, sinking his teeth into her soft flesh, then placed a trail of kisses up to her mouth. She opened her eyes then, meeting his blue ones.

“For someone so sweet, you sure do have a filthy mouth.”

With that, he picked her up, kissing her again until their legs met the counter. He placed her there, nestling into her warm center, his cock pressing tightly against his zipper, desperate to be inside her. Her hand was on his dick immediately while they kissed, palming him and squeezing him over his jeans. “Oh fuck, hold on,” he gripped at her wrist as he breathed deeply, “Don’t wanna cum in my pants.”

Her lips were on his neck now, undoubtedly leaving deep purple marks. “Where do you wanna cum then?” She whispered in his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Jim grabbed her chin, “Maybe this pretty little mouth. Or that wet, hot pussy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”

She spread her legs further and slid her hands into his back pockets, “Please fuck me, Chief. Right here, right now.”

Hopper growled in triumph, “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He pulled at the button on her jeans, ripping the zipper open with it. She pushed her pants down her legs and over her little white sneakers, all the way to the floor where they landed with a soft thud. While he was unbuttoning his jeans, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her panties - they were soft cotton in the palest shade of blue. He’d never seen anything more sexy.

“Can’t wait to fuck you, Sweetness.”

She bit her lip as she looked up at him, watching his face as the cool air in the bakery finally hit the burning hot skin of his cock. He could tell she wanted to touch him, to put him in her mouth, but all that would come later. Right now, he knew she needed him deep inside her.

He hooked two fingers onto her panties, “You wet for me?” She nodded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. He wrapped his fist around his cock, lining it up with her entrance before thrusting inside her.

Fuck, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt this way before. Her pussy gripped his cock so tightly, so perfectly, like they were made for each other. He wasn’t going to last long like this. He wanted to rail her, rail her right here in her place of business on a Friday night, and make her cream all over his cock. Then he wanted to take her home and prepare a hot bath for her, then bury his tongue between her legs in his bed. Then on Saturday…

He wanted to take her to the diner for breakfast.

He wanted to curl up next to her on the couch for an afternoon nap.

He wanted to watch her put on her favorite dress and curl her hair and take her out to dinner.

Jim would do all those things. But right now, he was going to make her cum.

“Ugh fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, reveling in the obscene sounds coming from where the two of them met at their center. She was breathing heavily, whimpering with every deep thrust. He trailed his hand up under her blouse to squeeze her tits - another thing he’d have to give extra attention to when he could get her in his bed.

“Tell me how I’m making you feel, Sweetness. Baby, tell me how much you love this cock,” he was moaning in her ear, his climax building. He could feel her pussy clamping down on him with every writhe of her hips. She nodded, “Feels so good. Fuck, I love the way you fill me up. Better than I ever imagined.”

“Can I bend you over this counter?” Hopper asked, wanting nothing more than to have his hands on her ass. She nodded, gasping when he pulled out, leaving her empty. When she was bent over in front of him, he swept her panties down her thighs, using both hands to roughly grope at her ass. “Fucking sexy ass,” he muttered, smacking both cheeks in quick succession. She moaned, shuddering against him. “Harder,” she requested, “Please.”

He brought his hand down again, harder this time, and she jumped as it connected with her ass. Her skin turned red immediately and he rubbed her gently before doing the same to her other side. Hop placed a kiss on each cheek before he gripped her hips and pulled her back onto his cock.

“You feel even better - like this,” she choked out against a whimper. Jim could only smirk and continue to fuck up into her. He wanted to cum with her, feel her climax soak him at the same time he painted her insides with his own.

“You close, Sweetness?”

She nodded and Jim pushed harder, each drag of his cock bringing them that much closer to satisfaction. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her up against him, “Wanna see that pretty face when you cum.”

Her eyes were trained on his and her nails dug into his sides. He was so fucking close.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut as her orgasm wracked through her body. He brought her left arm around her waist and his right hand to her face, kissing her as he exploded.

They trembled together, taking a moment to allow the pure bliss to course through them. He held her tightly until she turned in his arms. “I need to sit down,” she admitted sheepishly. Jim grinned as he walked her to a seat, making sure she was secure before he retrieved her pants.

“That was…the hottest thing I have ever done,” he told her as she pulled her pants back on. She giggled, “Honestly? Me too.”

Jim fixed his clothes and checked his watch, “Do you need this door locked? You’ve been closed for the last 45 minutes.”

She nodded, “Yes, please. We’re lucky no one came in.”

Jim clicked the latch on the door to a locked position, then met her in the center of the room, where they had started that night. He reached for her and she stepped into his outstretched arms, resting hers on his shoulders while his encircled her waist.

“Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

He could barely get the sentence out before she gave him the best possible answer.

“Yes.”

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

The Exorcist, 1973

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: Man I’m really fighting to finish Kinktober, like I have ONE MORE to write

Day 15: Innocence Kink

Buck was definitely good at parties. As he stood in the kitchen, nursing a cold beer, Eddie walked over and patted his shoulder.

“Hey, we’re gonna do a game of spin the bottle, you in?” 

“What are we?? 17?!” He scoffs as he sips his beer

“I made sure you were across from that girl you’ve been looking at all night” 

“You know me so well!” He cheeses, wrapping his arms around Eddie and squeezing him. 

You sit down on the floor, your legs crossed out in front of you. Your friend next to you giggles as Buck sits down across from you. You blush and look away from him, whispering to your friend, and Buck blushes, whispering something to Eddie before the game begins. 

It’s been 10 minutes and Buck has already seen you kiss three girls and one guy, and that nearly had him ripping that guy's lips off and tossing them into the fucking ocean, but finally it’s your turn to spin. 

Buck tries his best not to seem eager, and you get on your hands and knees, crawling forward to spin the bottle. You get several catcalls and whistles and grin, biting your lip playfully as you spin. You’re watching it go around and around when suddenly Hen knocks into Eddie, spilling his beer into his lap and leg kicks out, accidentally hitting the bottle….and it stops on Buck.

“Shit, shit- sorry” He gets up and groans, wiping at his pants 

“I’ll use the upstairs bathroom!” You all watch him hurry away, Buck’s jaw practically on the floor as Ravi comes in, taking his place smoothly 

“What are we playing?? Seven minutes in heaven??” 

“I don’t mind a switch up” You crawl over to Buck and he leans back on his hands, his body extending easily. 

“It’s up to you really” You bat your eyelashes at him and he nods dumbly 

“S-sounds fun to m-me. Yeah sure, okay.” 

You both get up and the game continues, setting more pairs up, He follows you into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. In the darkness, he can feel your small frame, your soft curves pressing against him. He reaches out, his hands finding your hips as he pulls you closer.

“I gotta admit” He speaks lowly, his lips brushing against your ear “I’ve had my eye on you all night” 

“I was wondering if you were ever going to make a move” 

“Shoulda done it way sooner…” His lips trail lightly over your jaw, leaving teasing little kisses 

"So, baby girl..." he purrs, his voice low and husky. "What do you wanna do in here?"

You gulp nervously for a second and smile uneasily, he takes a second to pull away just a little to give you space. 

“I gotta admit..” you blush, his face illuminated by the little nightlight in the bathroom “I’ve never done this before” 

He chuckles softly, his hands still resting on your hips. "Oh don't worry, babygirl. I'll take good care of you."

He reaches out, his fingers finding the hem of your baby tee. Slowly, teasingly, he lifts it up, exposing your soft, smooth skin little by little.

"You've got such a cute little body," he murmurs appreciatively. "I bet you taste as sweet as you look."

His hands slide around to cup your ass, squeezing gently.

"Tell me, Sugar," he breathes, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks."You ever been kissed before?" 

It’s such an easy question and there’s totally an easy answer… but the way Buck’s hands knead your soft flesh makes you think that maybe it isn’t all that easy to admit out loud. 

“U-um…” he can hear the wavering in your voice “Maybe once or- or twice” 

It’s starting to dawn on him slowly…. You might be a bit more innocent than he ever thought, than he ever imagined. His heart races at your admission, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He loves corrupting innocent girls like you.

"Just once or twice, huh?" He grins wickedly in the darkness, mimicking your tone. 

"Well lucky for you, I'm an expert at kissing. And I'm more than happy to give you a few lessons."

He captures your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue insistently seeking entrance. His hands roam your body greedily, one sliding up to palm your breast through your shirt while the other slides your skirt up, exposing your panties.

He breaks the kiss, both of you panting slightly. "Fuck, you taste good. I could kiss you all night.”

“I hope you do” You mumble a bit deliriously, a silly smile on your face. Your hands come up to hold onto his arms as he trails kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. 

He smirks against your skin, pleased by your eager response. He continues his assault on your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. Your nails dig into his arm lightly as you moan softly when he bites down, clearly leaving his mark, even if it’s only for tonight. He’s praying it isn’t. 

"You're so fucking sexy," he groans, grinding his hard cock against your hip and you gasp. "I can't wait to taste every inch of you."

He starts kissing his way down your body, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. His hands push your skirt up further, revealing your pink panties to his hungry gaze.

"These are cute," he murmurs, hooking his fingers in the waistband. "But they've got to go. I need to feel you, baby girl. Need to taste your pretty little pussy."

Your jaw drops as you feel him placing soft kisses on your thighs, giving you time to comprehend his next step, you can feel his smile against your thighs and you nod. 

“O-oh you… you want to-“

"Come on, pretty girl. Don't be shy. I promise I'll make you feel so good."

He starts to slowly pull your panties down, revealing your bare pussy inch by inch. He groans at the sight, his cock twitching in his jeans, he could only hold back for so long. 

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he breathes, his fingers skimming over your slick folds. "You want this, don't you? You want me to taste you, to make you cum with my tongue?”

“I-I do. I do want it” Your voice wavers a bit shyly and his heart races at your words, his cock throbbing with need. He can't wait to taste your sweet innocence.

He helps you lift one leg over his shoulder, opening you up completely to him. He takes a moment to admire the view, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans.

"That's my good girl," he praises, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. "You're going to love this, baby. I promise."

He leans forward, his tongue tracing along your slit. He groans at the taste of you, sweet and tangy on his tongue. Your head falls back lightly against the wall and you hold onto his hair for support. 

"Fuck, you taste amazing," he groans, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at your entrance as you squirm. "So wet and ready for me."

He starts to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit. He sucks on the sensitive bud, making you gasp and moan above him as you tug on his hair, pushing his lips closer. He grins wickedly as you get more comfortable with him. 

His hands grip your ass, lifting you up so he can bury his face deeper. He fucks you with his tongue, in and out of your tight hole.

"That's it, baby girl," he encourages, his words muffled against your pussy. "Ride my face. Grind on my tongue. Fuck, I love eating this sweet little cunt."

You whimper above him, your hips moving on their own as you grind against his mouth, your face twisting in pleasure as you work your body on him. He slides two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense as he watches your reactions. He loves seeing you fall apart, knowing he's the first one to make you feel so good and he’s silently praying the only one from now on. 

"B-Buck I think- I’m gonna cum” you pant softly, that tight coil deep in your belly so close to snapping. 

He sucks hard on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace. He curls them just right, hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars.

"That's it, baby girl," he growls, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through you. "Cum for me. Cum all over my face like a good little slut."

He bites down gently on your clit, the mix of pleasure and pain sending you into orbit. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, your juices flooding his mouth as you cry his name over and over, holding his hair tightly and bracing yourself against the wall not even thinking about if anyone can hear you two. 

He laps it up greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop. He continues to work you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing but never stopping as he holds you firmly in place. 

Finally, you start to come down, your body going limp in his arms. He pulls back, licking his lips.

"Fuck, that was hot," he pants, his cock straining against his zipper. "You came so hard for me, baby girl. So fucking sexy."

He stands up, his hands cupping your face. He leans in, capturing your lips in a burning kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, the flavor heady and intoxicating.

“Y-you’re really good at that” You mumble weakly and he chuckles, nuzzling his face against your neck and nipping gently at your skin while pulling you down onto the floor to cuddle with him. 

“Thanks for the compliment cutie” He purrs in your ear and you giggle sleepily, holding onto his arm and shifting in his lap. Your heart nearly stops in your chest as you feel how hard he is… how massive he is, you gulp quietly and he grins wickedly against your neck. 

“What do you say…we get out of here for the night?” He places soft kisses along your neck and you tilt your head giving him better access

“You can’t just leave your party” You murmur and he huffs, holding you closer. 

“Want me to kick everyone out? Cause I’ll do it, you just say the word baby girl” 

You yawn and nuzzle into his neck, breathing out slowly and smiling “A car ride would give me enough time to rest up…” 

You shriek as he gets off the floor, taking you with him and throwing you over his shoulder as he unlocks the door, already taking out his phone to get a hotel room.

“Sounds perfect! I have heated seats!” 

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Left Unsaid

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, angst (happy ending!), sex, fingering, explicit language, surgery times (duh), (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You used to be Dr. Shepherd's favorite resident, but something had happened in the last month that drove you further apart than ever. Will it get resolved (hint: yes, it does)?

“You, out!”

You stood, flabbergasted, in full scrub, suctioning blood out of someone’s brain-deep head wound. The OR had gone deathly silent, and if they could’ve seen your face under your surgical mask, they would have seen you blushing bright red.

All you’d done was ask a question. All you’d wanted to know was why Dr. Shepherd had gone after the brain bleed at the angle she did, because it wasn’t the angle you’d expected. You were a surgical resident. Asking questions is what you were supposed to do.

“Dr. Shepherd, I–”

“Uh-uh. You? Out of here. You’re distracting me, Y/L/N. And if you can’t focus on saving this man’s life, you don’t need to be in here.”

Frustrated and more than a little embarrassed, you handed off the suction tube to another resident and quickly burst through the doors and into the scrub room, washing your hands furiously. You felt like crying. You didn’t know what was going on these days.

During your intern year, you’d gotten really close with Dr. Shepherd. She’d sort of take you under her wing, said you had the right mind and hands for neuro. You worked well together, almost read each other’s thoughts sometimes, it seemed. But the last month or so, she’d all but banished you from her service.

You knew part of it had to be Webber’s new initiative for “well-rounded surgeons,” a new protocol where residents were cycled between attendings at random, with no favoritism or preference allowed. But even when you were assigned to neuro, Dr. Shepherd always put you on the other neurosurgeon’s service. She hardly talked to you at all.

You wondered if you’d done something wrong, something to completely ruin the mentorship–no, the friendship–you’d felt like you were forming with Dr. Shepherd. Not only did you miss her company, miss working with her, but you missed neuro.

You spent the rest of your day on neuro doing glorified scut alongside the interns. Humiliating. And when you finally went home, you wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch and order Chinese food. But a text from your cohort group chat reminded you that tonight was the annual Surgeons for Surgeons benefit gala. And unless you wanted to be fired, you’d have to show up, bells on, ready to mix and mingle and convince Seattle’s rich and famous to donate to the program that connected Seattle-Grace with its partner hospital in Nairobi.

You stared at yourself in the mirror before leaving. Thanks to a very artful layer of makeup, you looked a little less exhausted than you really were. And you had to admit, you looked good in a suit.

By the time you and your friends arrived at the gala, things were in full swing. Wine, music, twinkling lights, the whole shebang. You were determined to have fun with your friends, despite whatever weird stuff was going on with Dr. Shepherd. You’d had a few glasses of wine, had danced with a few other residents, and had generally avoided Dr. Shepherd, even though once or twice you’d caught her watching you. Let her feel bad, you thought. She was out of line.

But when you were on your way back from the bathroom, a hand shot out of a hallway and gently grabbed your arm.

“Jesus, Dr. Shepherd,” you complained, straightening your suit as she crossed her arms and looked at you, leaning against the hallway wall.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “You just…” She threw up her hands. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. I didn’t know how else to talk to you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve been avoiding you!?” You scoffed. “Dr. Shepherd, you haven’t talked to me in over a month. I went from being the de facto neuro resident to being bottom of the barrel in your OR. So forgive me if I’m not jumping at the opportunity to chat with you.”

Dr. Shepherd looked at the ground. “I know. I’m sorry.”

You sighed. “Look, I don’t care if we’re friends, okay? I– I would have liked it. I like you. But my career comes first. And whatever’s going on with us got in the way of that today. So whatever I did to upset you, I’m sorry. Okay? But I love neuro. And I’m good at it. You don’t have to talk to me ever, outside of work, but you cannot keep me from surgery.”

You started to walk away, but she stopped you.

“Y/N!” she called, grabbing your hand and holding it for just a moment too long. You were taken aback by her use of your first name. She always called you Dr. Y/L/N. “I don’t want that.”

“Okay…” You shrugged. “So put me back on your service.”

“No, I mean…” She exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t want to be friends with you.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. You liked Dr. Shepherd. You really liked her. You thought she’d liked you. You thought that in another life… But it didn’t matter now.

“Message received,” you said, avoiding her eyes.

“God, that’s not what I meant. I’m fucking this up.” She looked at you almost like she was in pain. As if there were words she just couldn’t get out. “What the hell,” she finally mumbled, then grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you.

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. But her lips felt so good against yours, her hands warm and soft against your skin. This was what Dr. Shepherd had wanted with you, why she’d been avoiding you. And, if you were honest with yourself, it was what you’d wanted to, you’d just been too scared to let yourself admit it.

You wrapped your arms around her waist, pressing her into the wall to deepen the kiss. She whined into your mouth, her tongue fighting for entrance, and you knew–by the arousal shooting down through your very core, the wetness pooling in your underwear–that this would not end here tonight. Amelia’s arms snaked underneath your blazer, searching for skin.

“Why do you have so many clothes on?” Amelia muttered breathlessly, painstakingly unbuttoning the collar of your dress shirt, then continuing on to the lower ones.

“Whoa!” You grabbed her wrists, pushing them away. “We’re in a public hallway, Dr. Shepherd.”

She huffed, pulling you by the arm into the closest room, which turned out to be some poor soul’s vacated office at this event venue. She slammed the door, taking her own turn to push you against a surface. It took your breath away.

“Don’t call me Dr. Shepherd when we’re about to have sex,” she said, trailing kisses down your neck.

“Fine, Amelia,” you retorted, and she smiled into a kiss. She liked a little sass in a woman.

With one hand, you rolled her nipple between your fingers. With the other, you moved slowly down her body, gently pulling up her dress to slip a hand into her underwear.

She gasped as you brushed lightly over her clit. “Fuck,” she breathed, throwing her head back. You smiled, happy to have a little power. Amelia might have all the power in the OR, but you had all the power here. You could tell by the way her hips rolled toward you, by the way she leaned heavily on the desk at her back–she wanted you bad.

She breathed heavily, squeezing your arms as she pushed her hips into you, desperate for the friction, the pressure. You grinned wickedly and removed your hand, licking her arousal off your fingers.

“Y/N!” she protested, glaring at you.

“Hmm.” You pretended to be thinking deeply, circling the rest of her vulva so that you were close, so close, to where she needed you, but not quite there. “You know what? I bet this feels a lot like being knee deep in a surgery and then being pulled for no reason at all.”

“I said I was sorry! Please, Y/N.” You had her squirming and writhing and you were getting drunk off her desperation.

You pushed two of your fingers into her warmth, already so wet, so ready for you, and she moaned. “I mean, I guess, if you insist.” You smirked at her, loving to see her lose control. She was always so in control at work. It was honestly something you admired about her. But right now? All you wanted was to see her coming apart.

There was a part of you that wanted to tell all the residents, to tell everyone that you were fucking Dr. Amelia Shepherd. But there was another part of you–deeper, softer, more you–that wanted to keep her all to yourself. Because some part of you knew that it wasn’t just sex, no matter how much easier it’d be if it was.

Amelia’s breathing grew ragged, her walls pulsing around you and you knew she was close. You circled her clit with your thumb, and she thrust her hips up into your touch, chest heaving, legs shaking. And when she finally, finally hit her peak, you scooped your arm around her back to hold her up, keeping your rhythm steady until she came down, resting her head on your shoulder, a thin sheen of sweat on her face.

“Fuck!” she breathed, lifting her head to grin at you and tuck your hair behind your hair. “Your hands.”

“That’s why I’m such a good surgeon.” You winked at her.

“That’s why you’re good at a number of things, apparently.” Amelia pulled her underwear up, straightening her dress.

“Well,” she shrugged. “Should we go back in?”

You scoffed. “I’m certainly not.”

“Why?!”

“Are you kidding me!? There’s a fucking lake in my underwear right now. I gotta go home.”

Amelia smirked, pulling you down by your collar for another kiss. You couldn’t take much more of this. You needed her. Or a vibrator. Or a dildo. Or something.

“You want help?” she asked, playing with the hair at the nape of your neck.

You blushed. The tables had turned all of a sudden, and she was the one with the power now. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Yeah, that’d be… that’d be good.”

She laced her hand in yours, squeezing it. “Take me home, Dr. Y/L/N.”

“What if someone sees us!?” you hissed, looking both ways out the office door.

“We’ll slip out the back.”

“Sneaky.” You nodded. “I like this side of you.”

Glancing furtively around, she leaned forward and sunk her teeth into your neck, taking you by surprise. You gasped.

She pressed her lips against your ear. “I’ve got a lot of sides you haven’t seen yet.”

God, you couldn’t wait to see them.

[hamiltonaf]

Ferrari Fangirl | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Jealousy / Possesive

A/N: Being a F1 girly, I thought colliding my 2 favourite worlds would be fun. Should I do more F1 x Football oneshots like this in future ? Let me know. Hope you babes enjoy .xoxo

Summer break was finally here and I couldn’t be more happy right now to spend more time with Kylian. The past month has been hard being away from Kylian for so long and only seeing him about once or twice a week, but it’s okay because hard work pays off and luckily my summer break synchronised perfectly with Kylian’s.

The start of the summer break couldn’t have been more surreal when Kylian had told me about 2 weeks ago that we have an opportunity to attend the Spanish GP. Internally I screamed, actually remembering back to that moment I believe I started screaming over the phone. Kylian knows about my love for F1 from when I was much younger. I became so used to multitasking for so many years that attending Kylian’s matches and watching F1 on my phone was normal, or even on days when I never attended, I’d have both the match and race playing simultaneously.

I have been to a race before, but with my family. Attending a race with Kylian and having paddock passes made it all the more special. Kylian specially mentioning that we were going because of me literally melted my heart, I’m very very lucky. I love this man so much.

This morning we started off on the wrong foot when Kylian saw my very obvious Ferrari fan outfit. “You look amazing especially in that skirt, but you have to change” he said as he eyes me from head to toe. “What ! Why ? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing ?” I asked confused. “First of all, that skirt is very dangerous. Secondly, if you were lost in that paddock, they’ll return you to Charles or Carlos rather than me” he said as he stared me down. “And how is that a bad thing ?” I teased. “Babe don’t even start” he said. “Ky I literally don’t have anything else to wear right now because this was all I had left here at your place. Besides that, we’re running late” I said as I grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled him along with me.

“You’re doing this on purpose” he said as he placed his hands on my waist. “Am not. Now please don’t start otherwise we’re not going to leave here anytime soon” I warned and just then he nuzzled his face into my neck to place soft kisses. “Ky you can’t, we have to go” I giggled as I then ran away from him to get to the car. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of media that was at the airport or in the paddock. The large crowd was actually giving me anxiety but thank god Kylian held my hand the entire time and gave it a squeeze from time to time to reassure me. I honestly haven’t seen the paddock this busy in a while, I guess due to so many other footballers attending fans are going crazy. Don’t blame them.

My heart was actually racing and I felt the sweat start in the palm of my hands when we were getting closer to the Ferrari hospitality. Oh my days. “Are you okay ?” He asked as we entered the hospitality. “Yep I’m fine” I smiled and huffed. We were guided by staff to meet both Carlos and Charles. Deep down I was freaking out and my inner fangirl was screaming.

Kylian greeted both Charles and Carlos before I did by shaking their hands. Just as I greeted Charles first, he took me by surprise to kiss both sides of my cheek. French greetings. Carlos had done the same. I swear I was on Cloud 9. I could just tell by Kylian’s body language that he was jealous but was trying not to show it. Even through those sunglasses, I could feel his gaze burning into me.

Both Charles and Carlos were so sweet, just as I imagined, as they gave us a tour through the garage, explained their steering wheel and allowed us to jump into the car. I was quite smitten by Charles since I’ve been a fan since he was in Sauber.

Carlos was busy talking to Kylian whilst Charles helped me step into his car with the help of his hand. I stole a glance at Kylian and might I say he did not look very happy. I didn’t mind him because this all still felt unreal and I was trying to take everything in as much as I possibly can, it’s not everyday that I get to experience the life in the paddock.

Eventually Carlos and Kylian had joined our conversation since Charles was explaining the chassis. When it was time for me to hop out of the car, it only then occurred to me that it was not going to be easy considering I had heels on and a skirt. Well shit. Charles had first offered his hand for me to stand up, the difficult part was jumping out of the car with a skirt. I guess Charles had put two and two together as he placed his hands on my waist whilst I placed my hands on his shoulders, carrying me out of the car before settling me down.

“Merci beaucoup” I said to Charles, as Kylian then wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me beside him. He smiled in reply. Eventually we had to leave the hospitality to go to the paddock lounge to wait ahead of the race. Kylian still hasn’t said a word to me but his grip was still firm on my waist until we were seated in the paddock lounge. “What’s gotten into you ?” I asked during the few minutes we had alone. “I- nothing” he brushed it off since Neymar walked over to join us. Perfect timing Ney. I sat for a while opposite them, occasionally Kylian and I stealing glances at each other, eventually I got up and walked over to the balcony.

After some time Kylian and Ney stepped onto the balcony and stood beside me. Kylian stood close beside me whilst leaning on the glass. I continued looking ahead at the track as if I was studying it whilst Kylian was looking at me. “It’s rude to stare” I said whilst not looking at him. “What happened earlier…jealous ?” I teased as I turned to look at him. “Me ? Jealous ? No” he laughed. “I think everyone in that whole room knew, especially Carlos and Charles” I crossed my arms over my chest. “If I’m being honest, I was just thinking how did I let you leave the house with that skirt on. I wasn’t ready to fight” he joked.

“You know what’s the joke here ? You bought it for me” I stifled a laugh. “So that means you wear it when we’re alone” he said as he leaned in closer to say lower. “I doubt anyone cared to notice what I wore today” I shrugged. “Trust me, they noticed” he rolled his eyes. “Aww but babes theirs nothing for you to be jealous about. If it makes you feel better, Charles and Carlos aren’t my crushes for today” I smiled proudly. “Hmm I wonder who is” he grinned. “It’s Lewis silly” I said seriously. His face dropped into a straight line as he looked away. “Ky you’re literally so cute and funny when you get jealous” I said as I cupped his cheeks and made him look at me.

“Lighten up babe, I’m joking. I only have eyes for you, it would take a lot for you to get rid of me because I’m not going anywhere” he stood up straight as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “That’s what I like to hear” he grinned as he closed the gap and connected his lips with mine.

[strawberryforks]

extra credit // cole walter x reader

summary: you and cole had a falling out. you’re not friends anymore but you still can’t sit back and watch him fail all of his classes—when you decide to tutor him, things are revealed, and things are fixed.

warnings: swearing, crying (this one has a happy ending don’t worry)

word count: 1730

a/n: requests/asks open and encouraged! <3

you hated cole walter more than was probably healthy. he broke your heart in fifth grade when he destroyed the science fair project you’d spent months working on and telling him about. family dinners were awkward as sin because even though you’d fallen out with the walters, your parents hadn’t… they owned a neighboring ranch and had know the walter family your entire life. so yes, you hated cole walter but you didn’t hate yourself which was the only reason you’d agreed to tutor him. your mom had begged you and your teacher mentioned that it would look good on your transcripts. in class, when you looked over and saw a red ‘f’ circled on the corner of his assignment, you almost felt bad. he’d shook his head and stuffed it into his bag. when the bell rang he was the first one out of his seat—you slung your bag over your shoulder and followed behind him, legs working twice as hard to catch up to his insanely long ones. “walter!” you shouted, “wait up!” he didn’t slow his pace but lee turned and tilted his head to the side. “not you.” you dismissed. “cole!” you tried again. this time he stopped. In the middle of the hallway teeming with teenagers, all in a rush to get home, he stopped. cole turned around and his blue eyes were full of confusion. it made sense, his apprehension, because you hadn’t spoken to him directly in years. yeah, you could hold a grudge. he looked side to side, almost expecting there to be another person with the same name. when there wasn’t, he gulped. “y/n/n?”

it was your turn to gulp. you hadn’t been called that in quite sometime. not by someone who mattered—who had mattered so much to you. “just y/n please.”

cole nodded and muttered his apologies, he could give you that much. “do you need a ride?”

“i need to talk to you, but we can do that in the car if you’ve got room.”

cole nodded and left through the double doors heading out to the student parking lot. He cast glances over his shoulder checking that you were still there and not a figment of his imagination. He opened your door and you scoffed but slid in anyways. “Thought I called shotgun!” Issac yelled, knocking into the passenger door before sliding into the back. cole shot him a look—one that said ‘shut up’ and he did. lee slid in beside him and then alex. the rest of the boys climbed in as well. you peaked over the back of your seat, meeting issac’s gaze. “sorry ise, i had no idea. we can swap spots if you want.”

“he’s fine,” cole said. he reached across you, grabbed your buckle, and plugged it in. “i could’ve done that,” you grumbled. cole didn’t care. he cranked the tunes, you switched the station and because you were talking to him, because you hadn’t in so long and he’d quite literally dreamed of this moment, he let you. he sat and listened to the shitty station you chose with a smile. danny bumped your shoulder on the way in and in the living room, you sat close to alex. your legs touched and though you thought nothing of it, cole was far from happy. alex whispered in your ear, “stay here for a second, i’ve never seen cole so red in the face.” you rolled your eyes, “i don’t need to make your brother jealous, alex. one—you have a girlfriend,” jackie was at one of her friend’s houses, “two, i’m not interested, and three, you guys don’t need another reason to fight. you hit him last time and i bet he’s itching to get even.”

cole passed you a glass of juice—your favorite and when his hand was empty he grabbed your arm and pulled you up. “what did you need to talk about?”

you weren’t stupid, you knew that was his way of getting you away from his brother. you didn’t care, though. you followed him and instead of leading you to his bedroom he took you out to the loft. you two had spent plenty of time together out there and you wondered if that was intentional. you climbed up and sat down, balancing on your favorite beam. cole inched closer, so he could reach you if he needed to. below there was only hay, but still, he was nervous, “i hate it when you sit there.”

“i know,” you said, but didn’t move, and that was that. “what’s up?” he asked softly.

“your hair. the middle part, i don’t like it.”

subconsciously he drug a hand through his blond locks then he saw a smile split your cheeks. you started laughing and he rolled his eyes. “had me ready to ask my mom for a haircut, y/n. not cool, not cool.”

this, you two, it felt too normal. too comfortable. too right. it was hard to remember that you were mad, let alone why.

you coughed a little, cleared your throat. “your grades, cole. they’re bad. i mean they’ve never been good—but you’ve really fallen off.”

cole’s smile flattened but you considered your small verbal assault “even when you were busy with football and with me it was never this bad, so what’s going on?”

“it’s not like i can go to college. football was all i had, it was my way out. when i lost it i had nothing, y/n. the only reason i haven’t dropped out is—“

“is because katherine and i would kill you?”

“i didn’t know you cared.”

“oh my lack of caring is not the problem here. it’s never been so don’t even start.” you take a breath, “ms jacobs said you’re doing bad in everything and worse in english—not in those exact words, so don’t start pouting or anything. i went around and talked to your teachers and got the work you missed, what they’re willing to let you redo, and extra credit assignments. so, get to work. i’m officially your tutor and no one i’m tutoring is getting anything less than an eighty.”

cole groaned when you handed him the pile of work but when you divided it by subject and deadline it was less overwhelming. the two of you worked in tandem for hours. he wrote, you edited. he attempted problems and you corrected them it he was wrong—explaining how to fix things. you went over formulas until he swore they were permanently burned into the backs of his eyelids.

“we’ll call it a night.” you decided when a quarter of the pile was completed. “you write an essay tonight and email it to me—i’ll edit it for you. the rest we can do when we meetup another day.”

“okay.” cole insisted on helping you down, and then when you turned to head out the driveway he grabbed your arm. “where are you going?”

“home.” you said.

“stay the night. you can take my bed and i’ll sleep on the couch. it’s dark and walking alone, especially at night, isn’t something i want you doing.”

“cole.” you warned.

“i don’t want anything to happen to you.” more than anything it was a confession. “stay for dinner at least, if you still want to leave i’ll drive you home. if you’re dead set on walking, i’ll walk with you.”

you couldn’t argue with that, not when kathrene and george were such great cooks. you headed inside and cole pulled an extra seat up to the table for you. “just you tonight, y/n?” george asked.

“yeah. mom and dad are at home, i just came over to help cole with… uh…” you didn’t know if all of his siblings and parents were aware of how he was struggling so you opted to say nothing. “with my truck,” cole supplied when his mother pinned him with a glare full of suspicion. “i love your outfit,” you tell parker when she passed you butter to twirl your corn through. cole passes you the salt before you can think to ask and it’s nice that he remembers these things. a smile tugs at the corner of my lips. small but bright.

after dinner you give in. you agree to sleepover and decide that you’ll take the bed and cole can sleep on the couch. when you’re settled in his room he leaves. you’re about to go to sleep, blankets piled on top of me and a smell that is so uniquely cole all around me when something catches my eye. it’s… it’s your project. you stand quick and cross to the closet, pulling it down carefully. the project he ruined in fifth grade is all there—glued back together. it’s perfect. you cry. it’s like you can’t stop crying. relief, anger, sadness, happiness, the emotions all slam into you with such force. tears trail down your cheeks and the wetness is still there when you find cole staring up at the ceiling, on the couch. he stands up quick—you’re upset, crying and he hates it. he doesn’t know what to do, what happened, how to fix it. you wrap your arms around him and squeeze. with your face buried into his chest you sob, “cole you fixed it,” it’s then that he finally clues in. “i couldn’t fix us so i… i fixed that. i never meant to break it.”

“i’m sorry!” you cried—loud and quiet at the same time. “no i am. i should’ve tried harder to explain myself,”

“i should’ve let you, cole. i never gave you a chance.”

“will you? give me a chance?”

you nodded. having cole back was the best thing that’d happened to you in a long time. family dinners became less awkward, you hungout with the walters more and a few weeks later, when it was time for the semi-formal dance, he asked you. picked you up in his truck (it was fixed and working great), gave you flowers, and spun you around all night. you held onto his arm, chatted, and at the end, you two stood outside under the stars, not quite ready to say goodbye or goodnight.

“i love you.” he said—it suprised you but not too much.

“i think i love you too.”

"you think you love me?" he asked with a teasing smile. “what if I kiss you right now? would that make it fact?"

you nodded, your lips met, and then the night was perfect. the project was fixed and so were you and cole. your best friend was now your boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier.

[lis-likes-fics]

Obere Òké

Pairings: M'Baku x black!Reader Word Count: 2.4k words Kink: Cunnilingus Warnings: NSFW, oral (f!receving), praise, size kink, p in v, multiple orgasms, creampie... A/N: I'm like....really late, guys. But I managed to get this done early enough to post it today so I hope you enjoy. Also, in this fic, M'Baku speaks Igbo and the reader speaks Xhosa but they understand both languages. Thank you and happy reading!

You hold on tight to the furs and fabrics strewn across the bed, your back arches out and your dark skin stretches tight over your knuckles. You grind your hips against your husband's face as his strong hands keep you in place on top of him.

"F-Fuck," you stutter as his nose digs into your clit, his tongue licking inside of you as he works you toward another orgasm. You've already cum twice, but M'Baku is insistent. "M'Baku, my love, you feel so good," you moan, your thighs quivering around his head as you try to keep yourself controlled.

He hums deeply into you, and a shudder runs through your body at the sensation. "Bast," you moan.

M'Baku devours you, feeding off your moans like they are the essence of his being. His hands grip your flesh and his tongue delves inside of you like licking inside an ice cream cone.

You feel another release creeping in on you as he shifts to suck on your clit. His eyes are closed and he's enjoying you like a feast. Your hips jerk and the sparks of pleasure are felt in every limb. "Sithandwa sam," you moan as you grind your hips against his face. His tongue digs deeper inside of you as he licks up every drop of slick you give him. You're practically shaking as you cum, moaning his name and riding his face.

You feel his hands travel up your sides, taking hold of you before he's moving his big body and laying you on your back. He leans over you, his domineering stature only intimidating in the pleasurable way as he stares down at you with a deep smile.

You wrap your hands around his head and bring him down to kiss you, your lips melding together as you moan against his, which taste like you. "Nwunye mara mma," he breathes into you, kissing your neck.

You close your eyes and breathe as he treats you. "Are you,” a breath, “quite done with that yet?" you ask, sighing when he wraps his lips around your nipple.

With a light smack, he pulls away and looks up at your face. "Actually, no," he says, "I don’t think I’ve tasted enough yet."

He finishes licking your nipple before going back down on you, wrapping your thighs around his shoulders to hold you steady. He licks and sucks on your folds, tasting your arousal and making himself messy with you. His beard scratches your thighs in the best way, and your hips jerk when he suckles around your clit.

His tongue thrusts as deeply inside of you as he can manage. And it's not like he can't use his fingers to fill the space his tongue can't reach. He just refuses to. He'd told you that he could make you cum with only his mouth, and he was right. He was continuing to be right; not that you had challenged him in the first place…

His hands caressed your thighs, addicted to the doughy feeling of them around his head. You're still grinding up against his face, chasing the feeling of his tongue on you.

He lifted your thighs, pulling away from you for just a moment to say, "Hold these for me, ihunanya."

You hold your thighs, wrapping your arms around them like he'd directed so you're open and on perfect display for him. He hums appreciatively, staring at your cunt with his dark gaze and licking his bottom lip between his teeth.

He sets his hands on the underside of your thighs and digs in again, licking you with his hot tongue and then licking into you when you moan deliciously.

He grinds his hips into the bed. He’s had you spread out over the bed for over half an hour, kissing you and tasting you and making you cum. His hands haven’t left you once to deal with himself, and he won’t let you do it for him. In fact, he grips you tighter to pull you in closer. He can never get enough of you.

You whisper his name again like a prayer, the usually pale light now golden with the morning hours. As M’Baku glances at you for a moment, his breath becomes shallow at the sight to behold. You’re beautiful, with smooth, dark skin made richer by the golden light. You shudder, both from his lips on your clit and the warm glow of the Sun through the chilly air of the Jabari Mountains.

His tongue plunges inside of you, addicted to your sweet taste. Your head spins as the mind-numbing pleasure continues to conquer you. As his relentless tongue and his relentless lips carried on, you could feel yourself building toward another release.

You moan his name when you cum for the fourth time, your poor clit throbbing and sore but so ready to accept more of him at a moment’s notice. Your back arches off the bed, and he pushes you back down with his hands on the backs of your thighs.

He licks you through your orgasm, pulling away and feeling your body trembling in his grasp. “Oh, look at you, obere òké,” he coos. “You should see yourself shake.” He strokes his large hands along your sides, letting your legs down so he can kiss you properly.

His lips slot against yours, and you sigh at the feeling of his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him in closer, and he catches you by surprise when he pushes a thick finger between your folds, as deep as he can get it inside of you. You clench around it, breaking the kiss to moan as he curls his finger inside of you and huffs.

“Yes, this will do just fine,” he mutters, feeling how drenched you are as your dripping cunt sucks his finger in. He pulls it out of you, pressing it at your lips as you part them to taste yourself. He smiles and watches as you do it. “Such a beauty, you are,” he chuckles. “My beautiful woman.”

He pulls his hand from you, nudging your chin with his knuckles. “Now let me give you what you really want,” he says. “I know you have been waiting for me, haven’t you?”

You nod. “Of course. You make it hard to resist, myeni wam.”

He smiles, chuckling deeply as he spreads your legs wider, taking a look at your pussy as he does it. He groans deeply at the sight, shaking his head gently. “Glory to Hanuman,” he mutters, earning an eye roll from you as you chuckle.

“Are you going to fuck me, gorilla man, or are you going to sit there and stare at me while you praise your gods, eh?” you raise a brow.

He lightly smacks your thigh as he takes his cock in his hand, thick and hard. “You’ve still got quite the mouth for someone who will not be walking today.”

You laugh. “Likewise.”

He kisses his teeth, muttering under his breath at you. Rolling your eyes, you press your hand to his chest and actually have to push in order for him to get the hint that you’re trying to move him. If he wanted, you wouldn’t have been able to move him an inch, hovering over you like a beast. Your beast.

You guide him to lay on his back once more, sitting on top of him as you straddle his body. He’s so big, you look tiny in comparison to him. But, to be fair, you are tiny in comparison to him. His hands fall on your thighs as he looks up appreciatively at you.

“You’re taking too long,” you smile, lifting your hips and taking his cock in your own hand. You position him at your weeping hole, his tip nudging at your pussy as you slowly sink down onto him. You’re so wet, he slips inside with ease as he stretches you out around his cock. You close your eyes and moan, easing your head back as you roll your hips slowly.

M’Baku’s eyes flutter shut as well, a deep grunt sitting in his chest as he feels you take him into your cunt, warm and tight and so wet. He curses under his breath, caressing your skin without guiding your hips.

You begin to build a steady pace just grinding on top of him, circling your hips as you put your hands behind your head. M'Baku watches you, takes in the sight of you feeling yourself, your cunt sucking him in. He thinks you're beautiful.

"Look at yourself, obere òké. Such a small thing taking me all in." He lays his head back against the furs and groans deeply.

You urge your hips back and forth, feeling his cock so deep within you. "You always stretch me so wide," you moan, your words broken with lust. "Fuck, M'Baku, you feel so good inside me."

You set your hands on his shoulders, holding on top as you begin to lift yourself slowly off of him. When you've got him just to the tip, you drop back down on top of him with a loud moan. You throw your head back, gasping for breath at the feeling of the wonderful stretch, the throbbing of his cock, his hands tightening around your hips, your clit pulsing.

You do it again, and again, building another rhythm as the sound of your slick sticking to his body and yours creates a loud smack of wet skin on skin. Your pace is quick, your body moving in a perfect dance that lets his cock fill you with each move. He thrusts up into you, his hands moving from your hips to your ass, groping you and squeezing the supple flesh like he's going to rip you apart. His hands smack your ass, feeling the ripple of the flesh with a grunt.

"Just like that, my queen," he breathes. "Take it all."

Your moans have climbed higher, loud whimpers, almost squeaks, that tear from your throat with each pound of his cock inside of you. Your hands fall to M'Baku's neck, stroking your thumbs along the thick column of it. Another whimper makes your limbs weak and your arms almost give out as you stare into his eyes, dark with lust but just as brown and just as beautiful as anything you've ever seen. Some of the light that pours in shines across his face. He squints his eyes just a little, and you smile at the deep pools of honey reflecting back at you. You bend down to kiss him, your bodies pressed flush together as you continue to thrust your hips against his.

It's not until his thumb has begun rubbing your clit that you pull back again, moaning at the feeling of your aching clit being touched again. You're going to burst, your bodies smacking together again in a desperate search for another mind-numbing release. He watches your breasts bounce with every move.

You clench around his thick cock, looking down to watch your cunt take him in with each fall of your hips to his. He's doing the same, enjoying the show from his perfect view. "I can tell you are close," he grunts. "Are you going to cum for your king, woman?"

You nod, grasping his shoulders tight. "Yes," you sigh, rolling your hips a little harder. "Yes, I'm going to cum for you."

He grasps your hip tight with his free hand, helping you keep up with him as his thumb continues to circle your clit. "Good girl," he says. "Keep squeezing me like that." He's starting to get close, too. How could he not? With how tight you are, how wet you are, how well you moan for him and fuck yourself on top of him.

You're so small compared to him, and everything about him is just so big. His hands, his thighs, his cock. He dwarves you, and he knows how much you enjoy it as you continue to seek out your high on top of him.

"I should put you up there more often. You are so cute, fucking yourself on me like that." He grunts as you slam yourself down on him once, picking up your weight again to keep going. "Fuck."

"I'm so close," you gasp, squeezing his cock.

He keeps at your clit, feeling how your walls flutter around him. "Cum for me, nwunye mara mma," he commands. "Cum for your king."

Your mouth falls open as loud, breathy moans leave you. You can't keep up the steady pace as your release hits you, spreading along your spine and branching out to your weakening limbs. It feels magnificent, the way he helps you through your orgasm with his circling thumb and his thrusting hips. You clench around him, though it's hard to control it with the way your pussy flutters. "M'Baku, myeni wam!" you cry out, rolling your hips on top of him once more. "Ewe, uziva umangalisa!"

M'Baku's body tenses when he cums. He grasps your hips tighter and pulls you down on top of him, thrusting his cock as deep as he'll go and groaning roughly. It's almost a growl of a sound as he spills inside of you, the warmth spreading in your belly as you milk his cock, taking every drop as you do it.

Your back arches as you ride your high before ultimately falling limp as the waves of pleasure die down to a gentle ripple. You lay on his chest, catching your breath as you close your eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, your thumbs stroking his skin as you sigh deeply. He's still so deep inside of you, so hot and so filling.

"Kedu ka ị mere, ihunanya m?" he asks gently, his large hand stroking your back and keeping you warm as the winter air begins to set around you again.

"Emangalisayo," you sigh.

"Good." He cups your cheek to encourage you to look at him.

You lift your head, moving your hands to cup his own face. "I have to tell you something."

He smiles gently, "Hm?"

You kisses you deeply, his tongue licking your bottom lip. As you part from his lips, you hum. "Ndiyakuthanda."

He chuckles, bringing you in to kiss you again. "A hụrụ m gị n'anya," he says, his voice barely above a whisper but still so deep as it vibrates in his chest and into yours.

You melt against him, his hot body warming your own. "Well," you smile. "Glory to Bast."

True Believer taglist: @activebliss @xxromanoffxx @thelastpyle @likefirenrain @babypink224221 @autisticbrie @alexxavicry @evabalexeeva @dumb-fawkin-bitch @hatterripper31  @kmc1989 @urmomsgirlfriend1 Tag yourself here...

[silvervioletvalentine]

🦋I love you and I like you🦋

Pairing: Lando Norris X Cherrie!

Word count : 9k

Summary: in which she’s a bitch, he’s a lover.

A/N. Also hi. I’ve never written for Lando before sooo this is like a little experiment I suppose. I’m thinking of writing one for Lance next? What do U guys think? Would you read a Lance one?? Lemme know xoxo

Charles was looking behind his teammate with a slight grimace taking over his designers as he let out a subtle sigh before glancing back over to Cherrie , who was sitting opposite him on the table while they are some lunch together like they often did before a race.

Pursing his lips to himself as he sent a silent pray to the bright blue sky above him that his friend would , for once in her life, at least try to play nice to the beaming man that was jogging their way with his eyes glued onto his target , the woman opposite him completely oblivious to how her peace was about to be disturbed.

"Cherrie. Please be nice." Charles blurted out to his teammate quickly and quietly , making her slowly lift her head from her container of food to give him a confused look at his sudden pleading.

Her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at a wide eyed Charles in mild concern , wondering why he looked so worried already . The last time she checked she had not done anything out of the ordinary that would lead to her needing to be told to be nice  again.

Had she somehow said something to Charles that now had him pleading for her to be nice all of a sudden? Was it that joke that she muttered about him being such a princess when he refused to eat a Apple If it wasn't cut into slices?

Her frown deepened , judgment clouding her face quickly. "Seriously Charles? I only called you a princess and you're now whining about it- get over yourself-" she started to scold him , not amused in the slightest.

It was no secret that Cherrie wasn't the most...open of people.

She liked her close knit group of friends that understood her blunt and slightly mean sense of humour. Who didn't her offended by her constant sarcasm and creative insults. Who laughed loudly when she called them bitches and motherfuckers, who weren't really fucking intimidated by her like everyone else seemed to be.

She really don't understand why people were so scared of her. Maybe it was the resting bitch face? Or maybe it was the way she always looked like she wanted to knock someone's teeth out if they got too close to her.

Or maybe it was the way that she refused to beat around the bush with people, preferring to be bluntly honest instead.

That was the way that she had been brought up.

You didn't get very far in life if you faked being a happy go lucky , smiley and 'best friends with everybody' person. She didn't have the time or the energy to play nice with people that she had absolutely no interest in. Why should she? That would be making a liar out of herself.

She was a bitch and she was proud of it. She took great pride in being able to scare away grown men that were twice her size with just one glare. It was a talent really , one that she utilised daily.

People wouldn't leave her alone if she was nice. But when she acted like a bit of a cunt, she got all the peace and quite that she craved in life.

It was amazing really. And she was proud of the way that she had mastered the way of telling someone to get fucked without even having to open her mouth.

Maybe it was kimi's fault. He had been her mentor and close family friend for years. And he had taught her to not give a single fuck about what anybody else thought of her . And taught her to do and say whatever the hell she wanted to.

So she did just that. And usually it worked well enough to keep people away from her. Most guys kept their little infatuations and crushes on her to themselves  , never getting too close and just admiring her from afar instead.

Well, Most of them. Except for one little, annoying , loud mouth driver who wasn't scared of her in the slightest. One that would not leave her alone , no matter how mean she tried to be to him. He was locked in and refused to give up on his endless pursuit for her affection.

He would have liked a kiss from her but so far all he could get from Cherrie was two middle fingers and a death glare. But it was a start. He wasn't giving up just yet.

Charles sighed "no! No! Not that." He lowered his voice as he leaned forward on the table to whisper to her . "He's coming over now. Play nice please." He warned her.

Cherrie scowled at him , chewing on her pasta boredly. "Who is?" She echoed in confusion.

Her teammate gave her a look "take a guess Cherrie. Which guy here is hopelessly in love with you and is also the only guy that isn't scared of you in the slightest?" He rose a brow at her pointedly.

Cherries face dropped in realisation just as a bright coloured, orange blur cane flying towards their table with a happy shout, dumping himself into the seated bench beside her with a grin.

Lando looked at her , saw her scowl and annoyed glare and laughed loudly . "Hey guys! How are you?" He greeted them happily , reaching for a tomato from cherries dinner without any hesitation.

Cherrie slapped his hand away with a low scoff , narrowing her eyes at the man beside her in Annoyance. "I was enjoying peacefully eating my dinner before you arrived." She muttered unhappily , refusing to look at him any longer and instead focusing back on her food again.

Fighting back a long sigh as she felt lando's eyes on the side of her face, unashamedly admiring her in the morning sunlight. His smile never dimming even when she was giving him the cold shoulder , as usual.

It was no secret to anybody that Lando was head over wheels in love with her. He had been since the very first moment he had met her over two years ago now when she got her contract with Ferrari. He was the first one to congratulate her and tell her that he couldn't wait to see her on the track.

Having been crushing on her long before she came to F1. He had followed her Instagram for years and liked every single picture she posted , always commenting a orange heart. Even on a picture of her tabby cat or a simple picture of her ocean view from her apartment, he engaged with every single post she made.

Cherrie had not been impressed by his schoolboy ways. She had came to race and win, not make friends . So she wasn't very interested in the way that he constantly flung himself at her without any shame , time and time again.

It was ridiculous and Cherrie didn't know why he was so taken by her, she had been nothing but a bitch to him from day one.

She tried insulting him. She tried ignoring him. She even told him bluntly that she didn't like him and that if he wanted to keep both of his legs then he needed to leave her alone and stop annoying her so much. But he just wouldn't give in.

Lando just smiled at her and tried another tactic. "You look really pretty today Cherrie. Have you done something different with your hair?" He complimented her sweetly .

Chin resting on his hand as he gazed at her with shiny eyes, ignoring the disgusted look that Charles was giving him as he tried to flirt with his teammate despite knowing fully well how she would react.

She side eyed him , unamused. "I just brushed it." She simply muttered before shoving a mouthful of pasta into her mouth so she didn't have to speak again.

Lando nodded his head along to her words "well, it looks amazing. I like the red. But I think you would look better in orange." He cheekily winked at her , laughing when she let out a loud sigh and finally faced him properly again.

She pursed her lips , face blank as she uttered. "I hate orange. It's not my colour."

Charles snorted behind the palm of his hand as he tried not to laugh as he watched her give Lando a hard time again. Feeling pity for the mclaren driver , but also not at all because Lando knew exactly what she was like, yet he still pursued her anyways.

Lando paused for a moment , trying to come up with a clever way to reply to that snarky answer and coming up short.

Instead he just chuckled and smiled at her in amusement "every colour is your colour Cherrie." Then he abruptly changed the subject , crossing his fingers for luck as he asked her hopefully "did you dump that footballer yet?"

Referring to the Spanish footballer that Cherrie had been seen hanging out with over the summer. The yacht pictures of the two of them practically jumping each other on the deck of the boat had crushed his heart a little.

But four weeks was long enough for his confidence and stubborn determination to come back to him in full swing , reminding himself that these flings that she constantly had with footballers and stars alike were always temporary.

Lando had never once seen her with the same man for longer than a month. She liked to keep her options open and never were they ever any feelings involved.

She just loved sex , that was all. And If all the other drivers could hookup with whoever they wanted and not get shamed for it then why couldn't she?

She wasn't ashamed of her little slut era that faded in and out depending where she was in the world. Spain, Italy and france had the most beautiful guys that she had ever seen in her life . And well, she was usually only there for a weekend so why not make the most of it and relax with a nice long marathon of sex with these Greek god type looking men?

She had no shame and enjoyed the way that the fans and press would go crazy whenever another picture of her with someone would make its way around the internet . She laughed at the comments calling her a whore who slept her way through each city , she laughed when they wondered if she was trying to shag every greatest  footballer there was.

Because well, they weren't wrong. She loved footballers . They had the best stamina's and really nice yachts. She was allowed her fun. And to her fun was delicious food, long naps in the sun and sex, sex and even more sex.

She was pretty, she was young and she intended to enjoy every minute of her life doing whatever the hell she wanted to do. She didn't want or need a man to tie her down. They were fun in the sheets, as long as they weren't her sheets in her own home.

Never once had she brought any of her famous flings home with her. Not one of them had met her family and never once had she ever told a man that she loved them. Because she didn't and she wasn't a liar who was going to throw words like that around just to soothe a mans ego.

No way. And maybe that was also why she was so determined to push Lando away. She was certain that it was just a phase that she was going through. He liked her because he couldn't have her and as soon as he did have her, she was certain that he would grow bored of her and move on.

She didn't want to risk her heart like that. When she did eventually fall in love , she wanted it to be real. She wanted to be a hundred percent sure that that he meant it before she ever gave in and let herself experience true love.

And well, Lando was all smiles and laughter. Silly jokes and ice pops in the sun. He couldn't be that serious about her , could he?

It had to be just a silly little crush that he had on her, it would fade away. It had to.

"Not that its any of your business . But I didn't need to dump him because we weren't even together." She finally answered him . Eyes on her phone as she replied to a few text messages from her friends back home .

Lando raised a brow at her curiously , eyes flickering briefly down to the phone in her hand as he wondered who she was texting . Definitely not him seeing as she refused to give him her number knowing fully well that he would never leave her alone if she did.

"But you were kissing him on that yacht.." he voiced his confusion , turning in his seat so that he was sitting sideways instead. Giving her his full attention.

Cherrie glanced over at him with a slight frown , lips tugging at the corners despite herself as she answered him bluntly. "I was fucking him for a couple of weeks but I got bored and came back home."

Charles snorted a laugh while lando flushed slightly , swallowing at the way she so casually talked about sex like that. Shifting in his seat uncomfortably at the thought of her and another man ... doing it.

Charles couldn't stop giggling as he looked over at his teammate in amusement . "Wow. Heartbreaker ." He teased her.

She just rolled  her eyes at him with a small smirk "no. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into. I made it very clear that it was just sex." She told him matter of factly.

Because despite being such a bitch, she never once led anyone on. She told them fair and square that it was always no strings attached. Just some casual fun when she needed to relax after a tough race.

"Is that deal just for footballers or-" Lando gave her a hopeful fluttering of his eyes , grinning at the way she immediate rolled her own eyes at him.

Something that she seemed to do often in his presence . He just wished that he could make her eyes roll to the back of her head in other ways instead.

She took a sip of her water and just looked at him for a moment , admiring the way his racing suit was tied loosely around his waist. A long sleeved  , white shirt clinging to his chest tightly making her clear her throat and glance away.

"It's for guys over six foot tall." She smirked , playing with the paper straw between her teeth. Watching his face drop from the corner of her eyes, while trying not to laugh.

Lando sighed loudly , frowning at her. "I could wear heels. Does that count?" He offered to her. Enjoying her snark for whatever  reason he did so.

Maybe he needed to see a therapist because why did he get so turned on when Cherrie was mean to him? Surely that couldn't be normal , right?

She snorted , laughing before she could even stop herself as she pictured cute little Lando running after her in heels all day long .

"No. It doesn't. I'm not interested in you at all Lando." She told him , hoping he would get the hint and move on.

He did not.

Instead he laid his head on his elbows that were resting on the table in front of him, eyes never leaving her pretty face as he admired the way her eyes seemed to be so bright under the sunlight. A few shades lighter then they usually appeared.

She was just so fucking beautiful that Lando had to remind himself to breathe properly.

"Why not? I'm amazing. I'd be a great boyfriend. I'd buy you flowers and take you on cute dates. I'd make you happy." He told her confidently . Not arrogant just stating the truth.

Charles chuckled, shaking his head as him in amusement . "So modest Lando. So subtle." He teased him.

Lando just shrugged and exclaimed "it's true!" Before looking back at a flustered Cherrie with a smile . "If you gave me -just one tiny- chance-"

She shook her head at him firmly "no. I don't want a boyfriend. Don't you think that If I wanted  one I would have gotten one by now? I have plenty of options available ." She reminded them .

Charles sighed in amusement , looking between the two of them with amused smirk on his lips. "Both of you are ridiculously cocky. Maybe you are made for each other." He stated.

Lando beamed at him happily "exactly! We could be perfect! We'd be the hottest couple around!"

He then looked back at Cherrie "and maybe- just maybe the reason why you don't keep these guys around is because you want something real.." he motioned towards himself proudly "like me."

Cherrie couldn't have groaned any louder if she tried. Huffing at him in annoyance. "I don't keep them around because I don't like them like that. Just like I don't like you like that either!" She snapped at him.

Lando frowned "but how do you know that if you never give me a chance? Girls think I'm cute as hell!" He exclaimed . Getting frustrated with her stubbornness.

She looked him straight in his eyes and agreed "yes, you're cute Lando." Seeing his hopeful and pleased smile , she quickly crushed his hopes again.

“But I don't date cute. I like sexy men. Not cute!"

He didn't give up at all, merely raising his brow at her and replying .

“Sexy is temporary. Cute is forever." He stated confidently .

Charles giggled as he looked between them, his own free entertainment . "That would be a great slogan for a tshirt." He said.

Lando nodded in agreement, snapping his fingers at him . "You're right! Write that down!" He told him before turning his attention back to the love of his life again.

Cherrie was looking at him in disbelief. Head in hands as she wondered what she had to do or say for him to drop this little crush of his on her.

How much more meaner did she have to be?!

She had a horrible feeling that she could smack him and he’d probably thank her for it.

"You always go 'awww look at that cute old man across the road!'" he mocked her girly voice as he spoke making her gasp , offended. "Never 'wow look at that sexy old man!' If you think I'm cute now just wait a couple more years. I'm going to be this cute forever." He told her with a grin.

Cherrie reached over and smacked his arm, hard. Lando whining as he slapped her arm back without any hesitation. Both of them slapping at each other like little kids .

"I don't sound like that!" She shouted at him. Going for his head now instead.

Getting him into a headlock while Lando just giggled hysterically, his hands coming up to clutch at her arms with a grin.

"Ooo I’m Cherrie and I like to break lando's heart-" he continued on with a high pitched girly voice , mocking her in-between his own laughter.

Meanwhile Charles had his phone in his hand, filling the two of them to send to their group chat for the rest of their friends to see.

They all had bets running on how long it would take for Cherrie to give in. Some of them said never , betting that Lando would never get a real chance with her. Daniel was the only one that betted that the two of them would be together before the end of the season.

As Charles looked at them messing on in front of him, catching glimpse of the smile that Cherrie was trying so hard to hide as Lando wiggled around in her Arms. Almost on her lap as he jokingly licked her arm making her squeal in disgust , yanking her arms away from his neck to hurriedly wipe his Slava away from her skin.

Charles wondered if perhaps Daniel might be right.

"I'm not breaking your heart Lando! Stop being so dramatic!" She scoffed at him with a huff.

Glaring down at him when he laid sideways on the table bench , laying his head on her lap and refusing to move as he grinned up at her mischievously .

"Oh really? Feel my poor heart then." He grabbed hold of her hand and placed it over his racing heart firmly . His eyes never leaving her own.

She just frowned at him "it's just beating fast idiot.

Not broken."

He laughed, hand over her own as he gently caressed her fingers with his own. Sighing happily "yeah. For you. It does that every time you're near me." He sappily told her.

Ignoring Charles fake gagging in the background as he focused all of his love sick attention on her pretty, flustered face above him.

"Gross." She inhaled sharply as he slowly slid her hand down from over his heart and down to his chest and stomach instead.

He was smirking as he pressed her fingers over his abs slowly , tensing them up so that she could feel them even more.

“Could be all yours Cher ." He whispered to her slyly . Grinning at the way her cheeks were slowly  turning as red as the car she drove.

She cleared her throat and quickly yanked her hand away from his, then she gave him a hard shove to his side that sent him flying off her lap and onto the floor below them Instead.

"Ow!" He yelped in shock as he laid flat on his back, looking up at her in betrayal . "Hey!"

Charles was laughing hysterically as he continued to film them. Cherrie just simply shrugging with a smirk as she looked down at him in amusement.

“my last boy toy had a eight pack ." Was all she muttered before getting up and throwing her Empty container in the bin.

Giving her teammate a casual nod "see you at the garage." She told him before walking away without a single look behind her.

Leaving Lando still laid like a starfish on the cold hard ground, the smile never leaving his face as he glanced up at Charles Stubbornly.

"She's the one. I'm telling you." He grinned.

Charles shook his head at him in disbelief "the one to what? Kill you?"

Lando sighed like a lovesick fool "she can kill me with her beauty. God.." he groaned in awe. "I love her."

Charles sent him a link for therapy later that night .

For some reason Cherrie didn't find herself very surprised when that very same weekend, at nearly two o'clock in the morning , there was a bunch of loud and insistent knocks at her hotel room door.

Quickly rolling herself out of her bed and grabbing a silk dressing gown to throw Over her shivering body, she hurried over to the door before they pissed someone off with their loudness.

Swinging open the door, she squinted as the light from the hallway shined into her tired eyes. Frowning slightly as she looked at the swaying, beaming face in front of her.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" She groaned out , exhausted and just wanting to go back to sleep.

But of course that was far too much to ask for and instead she was faced with a stubborn, drunk man child at her door.

Lando giggled as he looked at her bed head and pouty lips , sighing dramatically. "I can't wait for the day that I can wake up with you by my side looking like this." He waved his hand at her face a little too eagerly, almost slapping her .

Cherrie huffed at him as she grabbed ahold of his hand bedore he accidentally hurt her, looking down , unimpressed when he tried to  sneakily intertwine their fingers together. Swinging their now joint hands between them happily.

She glared at him in annoyance "why are you here?" She repeated her question firmly . Too tired for his bullshit. She either had to be drunk of filled up with coffee to handle him, and that was on a good day.

He just smiled at her , playing with her fingers as he swayed in his spot. Cherrie moving a tiny bit closer to him, ready to catch him if he fell. She did not want to be blamed if he accidentally fell over and ended up hurting himself in the process.

"I wanted to see you. I was at the club and this girl wouldn't leave me alone." He slurred to her , squeezing her fingers like a child to her her attention as she glanced up and down the hallway, wondering where his idiot friend was that had to have dropped him off  in this state at her door.

Her stomach turned uncomfortably as he mentioned a girl, pulling a face without even realising at as she looked at him with a frown. Getting more pissed off by the second.

"Okay?" She didn't know what else to say to that. She didn't want to hear about him with some girl. She just didn't.

She didn't know why and she didn't want to know why she felt uneasy at all. She had no right to be jealous. She was the one that had been rejecting Lando over and over again.

He had to move on from her sometime she supposed. So why the hell did it make her feel so sour? She didn't care. She fucked around almost every weekend with someone new. It was no big deal.

Lando, unaware of her little mental crisis , continued on obliviously. Nodding his head over and over again , looking at her with comically wide eyes.

"Yeah! I told her that I was in love with you but she just wasn't listening. So I had security remove her.” He whined to her . Almost falling onto the wall behind him as he lost his balance again.

Cherrie quickly lurched forward and grabbed his arm to stop him from falling onto the floor, sighing to herself as she carefully pulled him into her hotel room and shut the door behind them.

Leading him carefully over to her bed, crossing her arms over her chest once he had flung himself down onto the mattress  like a drunk starfish. Beaming up at her happily as he snuggled into one of her pillows with a content sigh.

"You're not in love with me Lando." She muttered uncomfortably. Stood at the end of the bed and fiddling with her fingers. Not knowing what to do or say at all.

She was usually the one that was drunk and rambling away, she was the one that was babied on after a night out with friends . She had never been the caring  or the responsible one before.

She didn't know how to handle Lando in general, never mind a drunk Lando who was apparently was just as infatuated with her drunk as he was sober.

Lando pouted up at her, eyes glossy and upset. The alcohol making him even more emotional than he usually was.

"Yes I do. Why don't you believe me?" He complained , frowning at her. Offended that she thought he was lying. "You make me happy and you make my heart sing-"

Cherrie cringed . Never one that could cope with feelings and sappiness. She couldn't even watch a romantic movie without leaving the room. All the lovey dovey bullshit gave her second hand embarrassment. She just couldn't take it.

She wasn't brought up to be emotional. Her family don't hug. Didn't talk about their feelings. Didn't tell each other 'I love you.'. The closest thing to love that she had felt from her father was a awkward pat on her back when she had told him that she had a contract with Ferrari. He said a firm 'well done.' Before excusing himself from the room. And that was okay. She knew that he was proud of her , she didn't need to hear him say it. It was fine.

Her friends had told her that she was emotionally constipated and afraid to be affectionate with anybody because she had never experienced it growing up. And well how could you crave something that you had never had before?

She had never even held hands with a man before. Sure , she slept with them and sucked their dick. But she never hugged them. Never held hands or said sweet words. It was only ever physical and she was okay with that.

Which was probably why she felt so clueless and uneasy around Lando . Because he wasn't afraid to be emotional with her . He told her how he felt without any shame. He always hugged her , sneaking up behind her to wrap his arms around her in a embrace before she could even think to threaten him away.

He told her she was beautiful every time he saw her even when she knew that she looked like a mess . He looked to her whenever he said some stupid joke just to see if she would laugh too .

He sent her flowers every time she won a race , and she won regularly . So she had a new boutique nearly every other week.

He asked her about her day, he asked her about her friends and family. He sent his coat to her hotel  room when he had found out that she had forgotten hers at home. He sent her care packages every month when she was on her period.

He wrote her little cheesy notes and printed out pictures and poems that he thought she might like. He bought every single piece of her merchandise that came out and proudly walked around the paddock wearing it. Telling anyone who would listen to buy it .

He did all these things for her and she didn't do anything for him in return. Not nearly as much.

Sure. She scolded his team principal after she had heard that he had upset Lando. He didn't know that she did that. Only the security man who had to drag her away did.

And sure, she sent him packages of strange things in stores that she had found that reminded her of him. She never signed her name. He didn't know it was her that sent them.

And sure . She paid for his birthday party at a fancy club, telling the owner to put everything on her tab even when she didn't attend the party herself. Sending him only a brief 'happy birthday' text that night. He didn't know that either.

And sure , she looked for him in every crowded room but only so that she could know where not to go to avoid him. That was the only reason why she looked for him and wondered where he was and what he was doing.

It was nothing. She felt nothing. She just- she didn't know anymore. She didn't get attached to people , definitely not to men. She didn't do relationships, she didn't do commitment .

She wasn't sweet and she wasn't kind. She didn't smile just because. She didn't coddle people, she didn't lie to make them happy. She didn't laugh at jokes that weren't funny. She wasn't girlfriend material at all.

She was blunt , mean and roughed up around the edges just like her father was. She had made more people cry than she had made them laugh.

People didn't come to her to hang out because they liked her . They didn't come to her for comfort, knowing that they would only get brutal honesty instead. She didn't even know how to comfort someone, other than awkward pats on their backs and a uncomfortable 'stop crying please.' She stayed away from anything emotional , it just wasn't her thing.

So why wasn't she kicking Lando out of her room and calling up one of his many friends to deal with his drunken ass instead?

Another question that she didn't want the answer to either.

She sighed and looked at him with a frown "don't say shit like that Lando. I don't like it." She muttered walking into the small kitchen to get him a bottle of water in hopes to try and sober him up.

He followed her with his eyes , huffing loudly . "You say you don't but you always smile when you look away!" He called over to her stubbornly.

She scowled at him , slamming the fridge door shut with more force than was necessary.

"It's a pity smile." She snapped as she walked back over to him. Throwing the bottle of water onto the pillow next to him, only just missing his head.

Lando grinned slyly at her , not budging. "No it isn't! Why can't you admit that deep down in your cold ice heart , you like me!" He accused her.

She gasped "I do not! You're not my type!" She denied quickly.

He rolled his eyes at her with a grin . "I think you're scared because I'm not like your usual type. You're usual type don't love you but I do. And you don't know how to deal with the fact that someone can actually love you like that. Love you for more than just casual sex." He rambled on. Picking up the water bottle and taking a big gulp , missing the way she froze up at the end of the bed.

Mouth opening and closing several times in denial , heart racing in her chest as she let his horrifyingly truthfully statement of her sink in. Hating that he knew her so well. Hating that he was right.

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, glaring down at his smug little face angrily.

"You don't know what you're talking about Lando." She said instead . Looking away from his pretty eyes with a scowl.

She hated pretty boys with their horrible big cow eyes and even prettier smiles . She absolutely , fucking hated them. How dare he be so cute when she was trying to get rid of him?!

He snuggled into her covers with a smile, hazy eyes never leaving her despite the fact that his head was swimming and his vision was making him see double. Two cherries were just as good as one anyways. Twice the beauty. He thought drunkenly.

"I do! I do! And it makes you mad that I'm right!"

He giggled "I think you're amazing Cherrie." He told her sincerely . Slurred speech and all.

Cherrie felt her face soften , hesitantly glancing back over to him with a sigh. Shaking her head at him as she tried not to smile at his cute, arrogant  face.

"I think you're drunk and that you need to sleep this off before you say something you regret." She simply told him. Leaning over to pull off his trainers so that he could get into the bed properly.

He watched her look after him with a soft grin, cheeks flushed with both alcohol and love for the stubborn woman in front of him.

"I could never regret anything with you. I meant it Cherrie . I know you don't believe me but-" he hiccuped as he let her tuck him into the bed properly , pulling the covers up to his neck gently.

"I think your mean sense of humour is really funny. And I-i like your smile and your laugh. It's so pretty." He slurred to her , eyes fluttering tiredly as he tried to stay awake .

“And you're so smart and the best driver in the world. I was so jealous when you became Charles teammate instead of mine. And I'm always jealous of those guys that you kiss-"

Cherrie looked away flustered , swallowing thickly as she listened to him tiredly list of all the things he liked about her. She hadn’t known that there was even anything about herself to like.

"And you make me so nervous- but so happy too!" He grinned at her tiredly . Reaching his hand out for her to hold.

Wiggling his fingers pleadingly at her when she hesitated for too long before she gave in and gently took ahold of his hand, giving him palm a small squeeze. Smiling to herself without even realising it.

"Do you think- do you think that you'll give me a chance someday Cherrie? A real one?" He yawned, eyes already closed as he started to drift off into a alcohol fuelled sleep. His hand loosening in her own as she watched him fall asleep just like that.

As if he hadn’t just completely fucked with her head and make her question everything she had ever told herself.

Leaving her to sigh to herself quietly , conflicted as she let her eyes flutter across his peaceful face. Admiring his sunburned cheeks and long lashes and the poutiness of his lips as he dreamed away.

Maybe he was right, sexy was overrated anyways. He was cute, he always had been and always would be.

She carefully pulled her hand away from his with a small smile tugging at her lips, shaking her head to herself as she got up to sleep on the couch instead.

"Maybe I will ." She mumbled with a defeated frown. Giving him one last look in her bed before turning away and heading to the couch where she knew she wouldn't sleep a wink.

She has too much to think about now. Too much to reconsider as she wondered if perhaps she had made a mistake by brushing him off all these years. Too afraid that he would leave as soon as she gave into him.

But she realised then that he had stayed through it all, even when she denied him over and over again. He never gave up and never gave in.

He was the first to run to her after a race. The first to celebrate when she won. The first to ask her if she was okay. The first one to seek her out.  He was always there, through everything single thing.

He had stayed through her rejection. He had stayed even when she had another man. He had stayed through the arguments. Stayed through the ups and downs of the track.

He had stayed . Even when she tried to push him away. He never left her empty handed. He never passed her without a smile. Never didn't say hello, never left without a goodbye and promise to see her later.

He stayed and maybe it was time for her to start staying for him too.

The next weekend led to a disaster of a race for Lando who's engine gave up on him not even half way through the race .

Cherrie was walking beside Charles side by side as they got ready to head to the media pen now that the race was over , max had won , Lewis p2 and Cherrie p3.

She was feeling pretty  alright with her podium result but she couldn't help but feel bad for Lando as she watched the replay of the race to see how it had all gone downhill so quickly for him.

Watching him head over to where a few tires were piled up and sit down on them with his head in his hands, still not moving from his place even when the race was over. He ignored the marshals , ignored his team and his assiants that were trying to get him to come back.

Instead he waved them off and told them that he needed to be alone for a little while , his helmet still firmly over his head so that nobody could see him cry. Feeling completely defeated and more than upset , once again coming last and gathering no points for his team. It was hard and he was tired, his usual smile no here to be seen.

Cherrie felt Charles nudge her side repeatedly as they both glanced over at Lando, all on his own , with pity. Sighing sadly at the sight of him.

"Go talk to him." Charles advised her quietly once he noticed the worried glances that she kept giving him over her shoulder. Slowing down her walk as though she wasn't sure whether she could walk away from him or not.

Cherrie frowned at her teammate  "I don't think anything that I can say would help charles. I don't know how to make people feel better." She reminded him "I only make them feel worse." And it was true.

Last time she had tried to comfort someone, she had ended up making them cry even harder.

Charles rolled his eyes at how oblivious she was. "You don't even have to say anything. I think that you just being there for him would make him feel better. He always lightens up whenever you're around." He told her seriously .

Cherrie scoffed, not believing him in the slightest. Yet she couldn't help but glance over at Lando again, heart pinching in her chest as he still didn't move from his spot. Ignoring everyone  and everything around him.

"I don't think-" she tried to come up with some other excuse to why she shouldn't go. But Charles saw right through her facade .

He gave her a firm push in his direction "exactly. Don't think . Just go. He loves you Cherrie-" he gave a pointed look when she went to deny it "as much as you like to pretend that he doesn't. He does . And I know that you do too. So go and talk to him please."

She gave in with a defeated sigh. Giving her teammate one last unhappy glare before stomping over to the tires where Lando was sitting all on his own.

She sat down beside him carefully , not even looking at him. Instead she kept her gaze out to the track in front of them, now empty of their cars.

"Lando.." she hesitantly spoke up after a minute of silence between them.

“Please don't cry." She whispered to him pleadingly when she heard him sniffle.

He let out a watery laugh , shaking his helmet covered head. "I lost again. I'm out again. I'm never going to be champion Cherrie. I'm a fucking loser." He sniffled upset.

She did look at him then. Frowning deeply "don't say that! You're not a loser. You've just got a shitty car. It doesn't matter how good of a driver you are if your trying to win a race with a fucking tractor Lando!" She snapped at him.

More than Uncomfortable with him crying and no knowing what to do or say to make it better.

He looked over at her , sniffling loudly. "But-"

She groaned and turned to face him properly , leaning over to unlatch the clip underneath his chin so that she could pull his helmet off . Wanting to look him in the eyes as she spoke instead of a helmet where she couldn't see his reaction to her words.

She carefully pulled his helmet off and set it to the side while Lando hesitantly lifted off his balaclava , his eyes red and tearful. Nose pink and cheeks flushed from the heat and from crying.

"No buts! You're a incredible driver Lando with so much talent and so much potential! And you're only young , just like me! You're going to win one day okay? And it might not be today and it might not be the next race. But you will. I know you will because you're you." she struggled to find the right words to explain what she meant.

Not used to comforting people. She was usually the one doing the upsetting  , not the comforting.

She awkwardly patted his back, lips pursed together as she rapidly tried to think of ways to make him happy again. She couldn't stand the sad look on his face , she wanted him to smile. Not cry.

Lando wiped at his eyes with his sleeve , looking at Cherrie hopefully as he felt his heart lighten at her words. Knowing That she never lied about anything, that was one thing he could guarantee her to do.

"Really? You think so?" He sniffled while leaning into her touch as he shuffled closer to her side , wrapping his arm around her back slowly from behind as he leaned his side against her own  . Silently asking her for a hug.

He was expecting her to pull away but instead she only pulled him closer. Wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him into her side properly as he buried his face into her neck , his other hand falling down to her thigh so he didn't fall . Both of them still balancing on the tires that they were sitting on.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair , scratching at his scalp soothingly as she sighed.

"I do. Because I believe in you and I know that your time will come. And if it doesn't then I'll drag max off that podium myself and carry you up there instead. Alright?" She muttered to him firmly .

Leaning her cheek against the side of his head as he clung to her, feeling him smile against her skin at her words.

"You'll carry me? Like a bride?" He teased pulling his head away from the crook of her neck  so that he could look at her.

His mood all ready lightening up as he watched her roll her eyes at him playfully with a smile. His heart thudding hard in his chest as he gazed at her affectionately.

Heart swelling in his chest as he realised that despite the fact that she hated affection and that comforting people made her feel physically sick. She had come after him to make sure that he was okay.

She was holding him, she was consoling  him. She was smiling at him. Even though she was meant to be at the media pen after her own podium win, she had chosen him instead.

"Sure. I'm the stronger one out of the two of us anyways. So it's only right." She teased him back. Glad to see him smiling again.

Feeling her stomach flutter when he slowly placed his hand at the back of her neck. Cupping it in his hand gently as he looked down at her quietly in amazement.

"Usually when a man puts his hand around my neck. We're not sat on some old tires at the track." She whispered to him. Overwhelmed with the way he was looking at her .

He laughed softly and shook his head fondly at her , biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes were drawn down to her smile.

"God.." he breathed out , blushing. "Don't say that."

She smirked at him , amused by how flustered he was.

“Why not?" She wanted to know.

He looked her straight in the eyes and muttered "because it makes me want to experience what they did with you." Enjoying the way her breath hitched , pupils widening as she looked at him, startled by his confession.

She laughed a little nervously as he moved his face to be closer to her own, their noses brushing gently.

"What? The casual sex experience you mean?"

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed as he breathed her in. Heart racing in his chest as he felt her cup his jaw in her hand softly , pulling him even closer to her .

"No." He denied with a soft smile.

"I want the boyfriend experience." He simply told her . Opening his eyes to see her reaction.

She just looked at him for a moment before frowning "that'd be a new experience seeing as I haven't done that before Lando." She reminded him. She didn't date. She fucked. End of. They meant nothing.

But as she looked into his shiny eyes and pretty smile , she knew that it was over. She wasn't a liar after all.

Her heart was racing. Her fingers trembling and all she wanted to do was kiss him. Wanted to make him happy .

She was in love wasn't she? For fucks sake. She really couldn’t catch a break!

Lando just laughed and shrugged his shoulders mischievously. "Then it'll be a experience for the both of us. Because I love you and I want you and I like you. So fucking much." He confessed to her without any shame.

His love for her came to him as easy as breathing did. She was it for him. He just knew she was.

And Cherrie. Cherrie just sighed long and hard in defeat. Nodding her head along in agreement as she watched his features light up with pure joy, his breath hitching in his throat as he stared at her with wide eyes, shocked at her casually agreeing.

"Yeah? You want that with me?" He needed to know. Didn't care how desperate he sounded .

He had loved her for a long time. Two summers now but he wanted them all.

She let out a soft laugh and leaned forward to  kiss him instead of answering . Cradling his jaw in the palm of her hand as she pulled him closer , breathing in his love as she finally gave into what was right. To what had been there, right in front of her the whole time just patiently waiting for his turn to shine.

Lando moaned against her mouth breathlessly  as she parted his lips with her tongue , tilting his head to the side as his cradled her cheeks between his fingers firmly. Thumbs stroking her sharp cheekbones , feeling them heat up beneath his touch.

Kissing her like he had dreamed of kissing her for so long now. He kissed her like she was the last person woman that he would ever kiss. And if he had his own way, she would be the first and last woman that he fell in love with.

She was it for him. He just knew it.

"You love me?" He panted against her lips , his fingers desperately clutching at every part of her that he could reach. Swallowing each sigh and each soft moan she gave him with his lips, he never wanted to let her go again.

She breathed out a laugh and whispered onto his tongue "I love you." Before letting out a loud giggle as Lando suddenly moved too quickly in excitement and fell backwards .

His arms flaying in panic as he gasped out her name loudly before his body fell into the hole of the tire that they had been sitting on , his body folding up with only his legs and head poking out for her to see.

She was giggling hysterically, clutching at the tires for support as tears of laughter ran down her face. Belly aching from love and giggles as she looked down at lando's blushing face , stuck in the tire as he gazed up at her with a sheepish grin.

"I'm stuck with this now huh you idiot ?!” Was all she said through her own laughter as she pulled out her phone to take a picture of him instead of helping him out.

Lando sighed loudly and simply nodded his head , flushed bright red as he smiled apologetically up at the love of his life who actually loved him too.

Despite being stuck in a tire, he had never felt more happier than he did then in that moment .

"Yeah. For the rest of your life I'm afraid." He told her with a grin. Unable to take his eyes off her.

She shook her head at him with a affectionate laugh.

Both of them unaware of a nosy Charles hurriedly  messaging the group chat as he announced that Daniel had won the bet. A multitude of disbelief and demands for proof coming through his phone . None of them believing that Lando had actually done it. Unable to believe that Cherrie had given in.

Charles just sent them a picture of lando stuck in a tire, Cherrie kneeling by his side as she leaned over the rubber tires to give him a kiss. Smiles clearly seen on both of their faces.

Pay up suckers. I win! Daniel replied smugly .

Charles just sent him the money through PayPal with a defeated sigh of his own.

Before glancing away from his teammate and Lando who were now full on making out , despite him being stuck in a tire. He quickly turned away before he could see anymore tongue, grimacing to himself at the sight.

Suddenly feeling sick as he wondered what the hell they had done.

If Lando  was obsessed with her before. How affectionate was he going to be in front of all of them with Cherrie now that he had her to himself?

Charles had a feeling that he was going to unwillingly see a lot more of their 'affections' now more than ever.

He crossed his fingers together and hoped that he wouldn't need therapy by the end of this season.

He couldn't believe that Daniel was right. Lando got the girl.

[rollingsins]

three's a crowd, part three

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten (epilogue)

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au. 

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: the love triangle continues to triangle. let me know your thoughts and what you want to see next!!

It’s awkward. The set is awkward. 

Everyone can sense something is going on. Emma isn’t speaking to you. Jenna’s avoiding you. They’re both avoiding each other. You’d try and fix it if you could. But you have no idea what to do, who to turn to. The closest relationships you’d made in the short time you were on set were the very two people who’d got you in this entire mess. 

Briefly, you consider calling your Mom. But you know there’s nothing she can tell you that you don’t already know. 

You can’t have both of them, she sing-songs in your head, you have to choose. 

It’s later that morning when Jenna ducks around the catering table to stop crossing paths with you, you see red. 

You wait until she’s in her chair, script in hand before marching over to her and giving her a piece of your mind. 

“Stop avoiding me.” You tell her, “It’s childish. You’re the one who told me you liked me. You don’t get to tell me that and then ignore me for days after. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jenna blinks back at you. 

She swallows. 

“Alright.” She says, evenly, “That’s fair.” 

You sit down next to her, not really sure of what to say. She seems to be in a similar predicament. 

“Let’s not make things awkward.” She says, “Emma’s my friend, and so are you. I never should have said anything. We can just pretend like it never happened.” 

“Is that what you want?” You ask, “To pretend like it never happened?” 

“Yes.” She says, averting her gaze. 

You cross your arms. 

“Fine. It never happened.” 

“So we’re friends?” She says, looking at you carefully, “Only friends.”

“Only friends.” You say. Ignore the way your heart twists at the thought. 

And then you leave her sitting by herself to go shoot. Try to ignore her eyes on you, watching you go. 

Your scenes today are with Hunter, not Emma, thank god. If he can sense you want to crawl into a ball and let the earth swallow you whole, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he sits down in the chair next to you and offers you a Twizzler. He’s not hungover today, and seemingly very happy about it. Then he, not so subtly, tries to pry an answer out of you. 

“You and Jenna looked pretty cozy last night,” He says as he bites down into his candy, trying to sound non-committal, “Did something happen between you two?” 

Only friends plays through your mind. 

“No,” You lie.  

Hunter furrows his brow. 

“Huh,” He says, bites down on another twizzler, “Well, that’s good, because I think Emma really likes you.” 

The agony doesn’t let up for the rest of the day.

You have no idea what to do. There’s a part of you that wants to find Emma, kiss her, tell her you’ll never look twice at Jenna again. And then there’s a part of you that wants to find Jenna. Do the opposite. You feel awful. 

You don’t deserve either of them. 

When shooting wraps for the day, you have half a mind to go back to your apartment and wallow in your own self-loathing. Hunter has other ideas. 

“Let’s do dinner,” He says, arm around your shoulder, “Joy and I will cook. And no offense but you look like you could use a home-cooked meal.” 

He’s referring to the dark circles under your eyes from your sleepless night. 

“I don’t know.” You chew at your lip, uncertainly. 

“Come on,” He presses, “It’ll be fun. I promise.” 

What he didn't tell you, and you should have guessed it, is Emma is invited too. 

You’re halfway to Hunter’s door, bottle of wine in your hands when you see her.  

She sees you at the exact same moment. Freezes. Reluctance all over her face. You wonder briefly if she’ll bolt. 

“Hey,” You say, voice quiet. 

“Hey.” 

You swallow, not really sure what to say. 

“I’ll go if- if me being here makes you uncomfortable.”

She hesitates a moment. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want you to go.” 

So you don’t. 

Hunter plays the fool, dishes out the wine and leaves the two of you to talk while he no doubt goes to bother Joy in the kitchen. 

It’s silent for a while, the two of you just sitting there, sipping your wine, Frank Ocean blaring through the speakers.

You want to say something, anything, but every thought that pops into your mind will no doubt sink you deeper into your grave. The grave you dug for yourself. 

Finally, after a few painful minutes, Emma breaks the silence. 

“Are you going to like, date her?” She asks. She sounds weird, voice too high. Like she doesn’t really want to know the answer, “Jenna, that is.” 

You pause.

“I don’t think so.” 

The conversation you’d had earlier in the day flashes through your mind. It hurts you a little to say out loud. 

“But you like her?” She says, frowning slightly, as if she doesn’t see the issue, “And she likes you?” 

“I like you too.” You say, “That’s the problem.” 

She deflates a little, sags back into the couch. It isn’t the answer she’d wanted, you know that. She wants what you can’t give her. Certainty. 

“I didn’t expect this to be so complicated.” She admits, voice a little quiet. 

“Neither did I,” You say, “I’m sorry.”

You watch her a while, let the silence stew. She’s beautiful as ever, shoulder-length hair tied back behind her ears. Her pretty blue eyes missing some of their sparkle. 

“I really like you.” She says, after a while, fiddling with the rim of her wine glass. She doesn’t look at you as she says it. Like she's afraid of what you'll say back.

“I like you too.” 

At that she looks up. She bites her lip, scoots a little closer. 

“I like you, but I don’t want to be your second choice.” She says, now sounding a little more sure of herself. 

“You’re not-”

“Maybe we should just be friends,” She blurts out. You gaze at her, stare piercing. 

“Is that what you want?” You ask. This is a new record for you. Not one but two situationships ending in a matter of hours. You’re one more word from snatching the wine glass from her hands and downing it whole. 

“No.” She admits, voice soft. 

You bite your lip. Let the butterflies in the pit of your stomach fester. 

“Why don’t we- keep things casual.” You say, a little hesitant,  “See how we go, no commitments. It would take the pressure off, a little.” 

She shoots you a shrewd gaze, “Like friends with benefits?” 

“No,” You say hastily, “Like casual dating. We see each other and if you want you can see other people too-”

“-Meaning you can see Jenna whenever you want.” Emma interjects. 

“No. Nothing is going to happen between Jenna and I,” You say, “She made that very clear today. She- we both don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Too late.” She mumbles. 

It makes your heart hurt. It’s one thing to know it, another to hear it. 

“Emma-“ 

“It’s fine,” She says after a moment, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” 

You stare into your glass, not really sure what else to say. You’d take it back, if you could. You wish Jenna had never said anything. Kept it to herself. You were happy before, weren’t you? When it was just you and Emma and nothing else. 

No, you weren’t. It’s that little voice in the back of your head. You will it to shut up. 

“Let’s try it.” Emma says suddenly. Voice small, quiet, “Dating. Casual dating or whatever.” 

You look up, disbelief on your face. 

“Really?” 

She bites her lip. 

“Yeah. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“Are you sure?” You stare back at her. You hadn’t expected her to say yes, the moment you’d suggested it. You weren’t even really sure what you were suggesting. What was causal dating anyway? You’d see other people. She’d see other people. The thought makes you want to sink your hand into your throat and rip your own heart out. You’re such a hypocrite.

But she’s looking back at you with shiny, determined eyes, nudges her hand ever so slightly against yours and it’s too late to back out now. 

“I’m sure.” 

-

As is now tradition, Georgie hosts the group's Friday night game session at his apartment. 

Emma’s at your side, her hands brushing yours every now and then like she wants to hold it. After the third time, you make the decision for her, link your hands together and entwine your fingers. You don’t miss the small smile that blooms on her face. 

“Are you guys a couple?” Joy asks, a few drinks in, eyes drawn to your connected hands. It’s just you, her and Emma, the others yet to arrive. Emma blushes. You purse your lips. 

“No.” You say together. Joys eyebrow quirks. 

“Oh. It’s just-“ 

“We’re seeing how things go.” Emma says, hurriedly, as if anything else will cause you to drop her hand. You rub your thumb over the back of her hand, soothingly. 

“Okay,” Joy says, as Georgie plops down into the seat next to her, “Good for you two.” 

“Good for who two?” Georgie asks, dealing out the first hand. You feel Emma shift beside you. 

“Those two. They’re seeing how things go.”  Joy says, a look on her face like she knows exactly how it’s going to go. 

Georgie looks between you, a little confused, “And what does that mean? What about Jenn-“

Joy nudges him between the ribs, hard. 

You clear your throat, “I’m going to get another drink.” You stand, drop Emma’s hand. You replace it with a soft touch to her shoulder, “Do you want another one?”  

The rest of the cast rolls in one by one. You’re fiddling with a bottle of Grey Goose when Hunter and Johnna arrive, Jenna not far behind them. 

You greet the former two with a hug, nod awkwardly at Jenna as she walks in, a little under the radar and sits next to Georgie. 

You’re friends. You agonize in the kitchen, trying to talk yourself into going back out there. You don’t want it to be so awkward. She doesn’t want it to be awkward. So stop being awkward. 

You sit down next to Emma, careful not to touch her, avoid Jenna’s eyes. Try to focus on the game. 

At first it's easy. You don't look at Jenna and she doesn't look at you. You touch Emma's hand under the table, not wanting to throw your coupling in Jenna's face. It works. It's fine.

And then Jenna has her first drink.

Whiskey and coke, a little too heavy on the whiskey.

When her glass is empty, she's gone from not looking at you at all to staring.

She watches as you draw your cards, lift your drink to your lips. She watches as you smile at Emma. She watches as Emma touches your knee. She watches like she doesn’t care if you notice. 

She watches and drinks. Drinks and watches. Three, four, five Whiskies, she's long abandoned the coke.

After a couple of hours of feeling like you’re under a microscope, it’s your turn to watch. She stands, off to pour herself another drink. You excuse yourself quietly, tell Emma you’ll be right back. 

Jenna's had so much to drink she barely notices as you sidle in next to her, so close your shoulders almost touch. 

“Stop it.” You say, under your breath. A laugh rings out from the table, the chatter loud enough you’re satisfied they can’t hear you. 

Jenna’s quiet a moment. She doesn’t look at you. 

“Stop what?” 

“Looking at me like that.” You say. You top your glass up with coke. Hesitate, then pour a little more Vodka, god knows you need it. 

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” 

“Yes you are,” You say, “We talked about this. We’re friends, remember?” 

“Friends can look at each other.” 

“Not like that.” 

“You’re still dating her then.” 

You feel like you have whiplash. Only yesterday you’d agreed to never speak about what happened at the club. She’d insisted you were friends, nothing more. 

“That’s not really any of your business.” You say. It comes out a little harsher than you intended. You pause, rephrase, “I just mean you and I agreed to only be friends.” 

“We did.” She says, voice clipped. 

“So stop looking at me like that.” 

She doesn’t, not for the rest of the night. Mournful, wide, brown eyes. Full of sorrow, longing, want. It gets worse the more she drinks. For an actor, she’s not great at hiding her emotions. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before. Since the day you met, she’s looked at you like this.

You grip Emma’s hand under the table and pray she doesn’t see it too. 

By the time the night is over, you’re exhausted. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon. Like you’re leading some double life, with a wife, two kids and an extramarital affair on the side. 

You’re thankful when people start to filter out. 

You wave goodbye to Georgie, walk Emma back to her apartment, only two doors down. You’re holding hands again, trying to brush off the night. Feeling a little like a middle-schooler by the way the touch of her hand in your own makes your heart flutter. 

“Tonight was fun.” Emma says as you stop outside her door. Illuminated under the light of the complex, her eyes sparkle a pretty blue. She’s looking at you, coy, chewing at her own lip, a little shy. 

“It was,” You say, though it’s only half-true. 

The drinking was fun. The games were fun. Holding Emma’s hand is fun. 

The tide-wave of confliction in you at Jenna’s wanton looks is not so much. 

She doesn’t seem to notice your slight reservation. She’s tilting her head up to kiss your cheek. Her lips are soft, a little unsure. She blushes as she retracts. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asks, a little hopeful. 

You smile, “See you tomorrow.” 

The smile is gone the moment she shuts the door. You slip your hands into your pockets, the quiet hum of the night reverberating in your brain. You can’t do this every Friday night. Heck, you can’t do this any night. Hold Emma’s hand, walk her home, kiss her goodnight all the while your brain is afire with thoughts of another woman. Her best friend.  

You’ll withdraw from her, you reason with a heavy heart. You’ll avoid Jenna, give you both time to get over each other. And then, when this infatuation, this crush was over, you’d be too enraptured with Emma to think twice. 

It’s a decent plan, maybe the best you’ve come up with so far. You let your brain trick itself into thinking it will ever work. 

And then, you round the corner just as Jenna steps out of Georgie’s apartment. 

Great. 

She stumbles slightly, more than a little drunk, all but slams the door in her wake. 

You freeze, hoping she won’t see you. You don’t want to be alone with her, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with her. And she’s had a lot of Whiskey. Maybe she’ll breeze right past. Maybe her mind is playing similar tricks on her. 

No such luck. She spots you almost immediately. Tugs her purse higher around her shoulder. 

“I’m not following you,” She says as if that's what you're about to accuse her of, “I’m going this way too.” 

“I didn’t think you were.” You say. You contemplate turning back around, knocking on Emma’s door and asking for a nightcap. This seems like trouble. Something in you resists. You watch as she turns to the staircase and grasps at the railing. She wobbles slightly, unsteady. 

 “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” She says. You knew she was going too hard on the whiskey. You should have stopped her. You inch forward, press your hands to her back so she doesn’t slip. She jerks you off. 

“I don’t need help.” 

It stings a little. You retract your hands, swallowing. You don’t know what you’ve done to make her so mad at you. Except… everything. 

“Clearly.” 

She barely manages the stairs alone. You follow, not too far behind, not wanting her own stubbornness to result in her falling face first and breaking her neck. 

When she’s conquered the last of the stairs, she blinks up at the sky. Hovers, head tilted, swaying slightly on the spot. You peer up too, wonder what she’s looking at. The stars are out of focus, blurry. You blink, suddenly aware you may be just as inebriated as her. 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” You ask, before you can stop yourself. 

It’s not romantic, you tell yourself. Friends walk each other home all the time. You just wanted to make sure she got home safe, is all. A staircase is one thing, but Jenna lives a few blocks down from here. Anything could happen to her in this state. 

You stand in front of her, watch as she redirects her focus from the sky. Your stomach does somersaults as her dark eyes lock onto yours. 

“Where’s Emma?” 

“I walked her home,” You say. 

“Oh.” Jenna says, frowning a little, “You didn’t want to stay the night?” 

Your cheeks flame. 

“No,” You say. You don’t elaborate, not wanting to go there. 

She tilts her head, swaying again on the spot. She inches forward, perhaps more than she means to. Your shoulders brush. 

“So you haven’t slept with her yet?” She asks, voice low. 

You’d only kissed Emma, once, but Jenna doesn’t know that. Her eyes are flitting between your own, wide, curious, the whiskey in her system drowning her filter. 

“Jesus, Jenna-“

“Sorry.” She says, though she doesn’t sound it, “Was that inappropriate?” 

“Just a little.” 

You should leave. The stars, the whiskey, the look in Jenna’s eyes. Her questions betraying her intentions. It’s too much. It’s not friendship. 

And you’d promised Emma-

“I’m glad you haven’t.” Jenna draws you back to her, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m glad you haven’t slept with her.” 

Her lips are wet. Plump, red. So kissable. You can’t help but look. She darts her tongue out, like she wants to keep your attention there. She’s so close now, you can feel the warmth from her body. You can smell the spice of her perfume. Apple, cinnamon, vanilla. You’re close enough to count the freckles dotted across her nose. 

Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, her body language screams. 

There’s a lump in your throat. You swallow once to get rid of it. It’s still there. This time it’s you who bites your lip. Watch as her eyes draw down to follow the movement. 

Stop it, you think, remember Emma.  

Emma and her shy smile. Emma and her pretty blue eyes. Emma and her jasmine-scented perfume, her blonde hair. 

Emma. Emma. Emma. 

You clear your throat. Try and snap yourself out of the Jenna-induced trance she’s put you in.

“Jenna. We’re friends. Friends don’t care about who’s dating who or who’s slept with who-“ 

“I don’t want to be friends.” She whispers. She’s given up all pretense of looking into your eyes. Her gaze is on your mouth, “You don’t want it either. I can see it. I can tell.” 

It’s the whiskey talking, you tell yourself. It has a grip on her. It has a grip on you, too. When the night’s over and it’s morning, she’ll go back to ignoring you and you’ll go back to wanting Emma. You try to tell her so. 

“We agreed-“ 

But she doesn't let you finish. 

One minute she’s staring at your lips, hungry look in her eyes. Like she’s starved, and the only thing that’ll satiate her is you. The next, there's a warm press against your mouth as her lips find yours.

Your eyes flutter closed. Butterflies erupt deep in your stomach, like they were caged and just set free. 

Her lips are soft, so soft, and you can feel her everywhere. The touch of her skin as her arm grazes yours. Her fingertips light as they ghost on the back of your neck. Then harder as they gripping the front of your shirt, pulling you down into her. 

Stop it, screams the voice in the back of your head, push her off, tell her to go home. 

But you can’t. 

She tastes like Jameson. Kissing her sets your entire body aflame. You feel it from your fingertips to the tips of your ears, burning hot with desire. You moan, brush your nose against hers as she deepens the kiss. Greedy, swollen lips against yours, hot tongue slipping into your mouth. 

Her kisses are nothing like Emma’s. Emma is all gentle, timid lips. The slight touch of a hand. Jenna kisses you like she’s sure. She pulls you into her, a little rough. She’s fierce, hard. She kisses you like she wants you desperately. You kiss her back like you want her just as bad. You do want her just as bad.

Emma’s face blurs to the back of your mind, Jenna's lips the only thing you're thinking of. 

You grip her hips, tug her to you. Cup her face and kiss her until your lips hurt and your brain goes foggy from the lack of oxygen.

Not moments later she’s pulling away.

You blink her back into view. Her eyes are closed, her lips red and swollen from yours. You brush her dark hair out of her face, press your noses together. Your heartbeat steadies. 

The parking lot light flickers, and you remember where you are. 

Reality comes crashing in. You swallow, retract slightly from her as you glance up to Emma’s apartment. Wonder if she can see you doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t. 

Jenna doesn’t let you go far. Her hands around your biceps, trying to keep you close. 

“Come home with me.” She murmurs. Her eyes are impossibly dark, so longing as she stares up into yours. 

You want to, so badly. But you can smell the booze on her breath. On yours too. And then you think of Emma. 

You retract slightly, voice low. 

“I can’t.” 

“Please. I want to take you home with me.” She begs. Her pupils are so wide you can’t even see the pretty brown of her chocolate-eske irises anymore. 

“I can’t. Emma.” Is all you say, pleading, like you’re begging her to understand. 

It jump-starts something in her. The humanity is back, the lust-crazed fog that had taken over lifting. Something shifts in her expression. Her pupils adjust, and she withdraws her vice-like grip on you. 

“Right.” She says, “Emma.” 

She shuffles back away from you, almost falling. You reach out for her, not wanting her to hit the pavement but she brushes you off. Not moments ago you were as close to her as you’d ever been. Now, it’s like your touch scalds her. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, and she sounds like she means it. She hangs a moment, like she wants to say something more. Her words fail her, “I’ve got to go.” 

And then she leaves you standing there in the parking lot alone, Emma on your mind and the ghost of Jenna's kiss on your lips.

Next part

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 5

Azriel x reader, based on the Netflix series by the same name

a/n: I haven't forgotten about AFAS but this one is so comforting to write. Also a master post for this series sis on my todo list I just haven;t gotten around to it.

warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, a lil fluff

Word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

You were sitting beside Elain as you had done every morning since the Archeron sisters had arrived at the Night Court. She was no better than yesterday or the day before that. She ate very little and she was almost fighting against breathing. You had never seen anything like it, her body perfectly healthy but her mind… you imagined she was filled with rage and sorrow and grief for her past life. Not that she gave you much of an indication.

Being with Elain was calming in a way, she didn’t move much. You encouraged her to change positions every so often so her muscles wouldn’t atrophy but that was it. Sometimes you thought that your friends assigned you to her because of how Azriel arrived from Hybern. How he was seconds away from death. How you could only say “but I just got you back” over and over as you and Madja worked on his wounds. How you didn’t sleep for days until his eyes opened. How flashes of his too pale skin would cause you to crumble because he looked like a corpse and if Azriel was gone… 

So you painted Elain’s nails,  braided her hair and told her stories of Feyre when she first arrived at the Night Court. You reassured her that she would be back soon and that the three sisters would be safe in Velaris. 

Your favorite story to tell her was of how her sister freed the fae from Amarantha’s reign. How, because of her blood and kin, peace was within grasp. You told her how it felt when Amarantha died and magic returned and the sky at the Dawn Court glittered with the colors of the rainbow. How Thesan arrived at his palace and told everyone in his court of the brave girl who saved them. You told her that you had basically given up hope because if salvation lay in someone falling in love with Tamlin... 

“I only saw him once or twice during the reign but he was the most un-charismatic male I have ever met, we’re lucky Feyre has such a beautiful heart.” 

You didn’t tell her that when you returned to your cottage after the announcement and the initial euphoria there was a tall male with giant wings standing at your door. His head turning the instant a shadow told him you had arrived. 

“I thought maybe you moved.” 

You couldn’t tell her that you ran and wrapped your arms around him. The last fifty years had been an ocean and, just then, you finally found your lifeline. He hugged your shoulders, bringing his head to the crook of your neck and breathed in your unchanging scent. 

After minutes of the embrace that put your heart back together you pulled away and inspected his face. Perfect. He was absolutely perfect. “Az… you’re here.” 

He nodded and grabbed your hands, noticing the way his thumb brushed over your ring finger. 

“Rhys is back home… and I had to make sure you were…” 

“I’m fine, the last five decades have been hell, but I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’ve wanted to say I’m sorry for so long, what I said that day-” 

“I know. You don’t have to apologize.” 

“I do. I was jealous and foolish and it has haunted me ever since.” 

“It’s alright Az, I just… I’m so happy you’re here.” 

The version of events Elain got was “once Thesan returned I knew someone would come for me.” 

You told her how Feyre also had a difficult time with being turned fae, that it was fine for her to take her time to heal. 

After lunch there would be a knock on the door. Sometimes it would be Nesta, sometimes Madja, sometimes Rhys but today it was Azriel. He had made a complete recovery and would often keep you company while you were with Elain. 

He handed you a bouquet of flowers. “Happy anniversary.” 

You felt your cheeks redden at the gesture. “You know it’s not until tomorrow.” 

“I felt like starting the celebrations early, you know, to make up for lost time.” Rolled your eyes as he grabbed your free hand, “come on.” 

Just then Nesta walked into the room, a novel tucked under her arm. “I can stay, y/n, go on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as Azriel picked you up and launched into the sky. 

“You’ll see in a few minutes.” 

You landed on a little cove by the Sidra. “I figured you needed a break from the house.” You nodded and sat on the shore, your feet just touching the water. Gentle waves lapping at your legs. He sat down next to you. 

“You never told me what actually happened with Lenus.” 

“We just stopped loving each other… and he cheated.”

Azriel looked like you had just said something ridiculous “Lenus cheated on you?”

A nod “yep.”

“Lenus, glasses Lenus? Lenus the scribe?” 

“She was also a scribe. Get this, I caught them in the library.” 

“No you did not.”

“I most certainly did. Anyways, after that I put everything of his in a box and threw it away. Haven’t heard from him since.” 

“If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him.” 

“You don’t have to kill him, just remind me to never date a scribe ever again, please.” 

“Noted.”  

“Have you ever dated someone in the last fifty years?”

“No.” 

“Really?” You raise a brow at him. 

“We had to keep the court running, I was busy.”

“Yeah, yeah… Az?” 

“Do you think you have a mate?” He looked up and thought about it. 

“I hope I do, but who knows.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” 

“Why?”

“Well I’ve been alive for so long and I haven’t felt it yet. But the Archerons were turned and immediately found theirs.” 

“But Rhys was over 500 when he met Feyre, so… there’s still hope. You’re what? 499? Still have one year to find them.” 

You splashed water on him “you’re so dumb sometimes.” 

You spent the rest of the day in the cove. But even the longest day of the year had to end so when the sun was setting, Azriel flew to your apartment. “Home sweet home.” He said as he put you down. 

“I haven’t been here in weeks, there’s nothing to eat.”

“Let's go to a restaurant then.” Azriel grabbed your hand and led you to a small place at the end of your street. You always came here when you wanted something with noodles. You were led by an employee to your usual table, a small booth near the back. Just big enough for Azriel to fit comfortably but hidden away from curious fae. 

You ordered what you always get and so did Azriel. While you waited for the food you took Azriel’s hand in yours, feeling his pulse, confirming it. “I still can’t believe you’re alive.”

That arrow was straight through his chest. 

“It’s going to take a lot more to kill me.” 

You lifted your gaze to meet his. His breath caught in his throat at the intensity, like a switch had flipped. “Promise me I’ll die first.” 

The air got thicker and Azriel’s wings tensed. “What?”

“I can’t watch you die Az, I- I won’t survive it. So just promise me I’ll die first.” He grabbed your hand with both of his. 

“It's ok. See? You patched me up good as new.” He wasn’t getting it. Tears began to pool in your eyes as you pleaded. 

“Azriel-” you said so low he could barely hear it “please…” He saw your chest heaving and  knew what was happening. So he pulled you next to him with both arms and made a shield with his wings and shadows. “Breathe, y/n. I’m right here. I’m right here.” 

You were sobbing now, clutching his leathers as if he would float away. He held you firm against his chest. His heart a little faster than normal, but steady. It was the greatest symphony and the most beautiful prose. You kept your ear pressed against his chest. He was mumbling “I’m here, I’m ok, It’s alright.” Over and over. 

You were back in your apartment now. Azriel had asked for the food to go and brought you back home. So now you sit on your couch, the food getting cold on the coffee table. Hugging your knees to your chest as Azriel draws circles on your back.  The crying stopped a while ago. The mortification on the other hand… You hid your face in your knees. “I’m embarrassed.” 

“Why? At least you didn’t have a panic attack in the middle of a one night stand.” He attempted to joke. 

“I always keep it together.”

“You don’t have to.” 

“It just- it keeps me awake at night, the arrow right through your chest. Your heart-” a gulp “I could feel your heart desperate for relief, the ash and the blood loss put so much of a strain on it- you didn’t see how close you were to being gone and- I close my eyes and I see you on that table limp and-” You hadn't spoken with him about any of this. He woke up and you were your usual self, if a bit sleep deprived. 

“I never thanked you” , his hands still drawing circles on your back,“thank you for healing me.”

“Anytime Az,” you lift your face from your knees and give him something that resembles a smile. With his thumb he brushes away a few tears and some strands of hair stuck on your face. “Are you hungry?”

You nod. 

“Then let's eat.”

[bokkura]

I WOULD GIVE UP HEAVEN IF I HAD TO . chapter four

synopsis :: lee heeseung was your first love, if you could count a ghost as a love. he made you feel adored, he made you feel special. all despite the barrier between your worlds. but this all comes crumbling when your death day rolls around, and it’s revealed heeseung had toyed with your heart. being in love with another on the other side the entire time. now you’re stuck heartbroken in the land of the dead, with only a few newfound friends to help you.

and a really beautiful dead ice skater.

pairings :: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre :: ghost!au, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

masterlist.

you’re visibly dejected the days after your conversation with sunghoon. you still don’t know how you made his mood deplete so fast and you feel shitty for it. and no offense, but you feel like your friends aren’t much help. it’s always just the same ‘that’s how sunghoon is’ speech.

you want to look for sunghoon again but you keep thinking that maybe you should finally leave him alone. you’ve done this twice and it’s ended badly both times. maybe this one time you should give things up.

days go by, weeks even. you’re spending time with your friends more. you’re exploring areas of the land of the dead you hadn’t before. you were living — ironically enough — after cutting out distractions. all because of what yunjin told you;

“distractions are temporary. if you want to get over heeseung, come with me, i’ll take you to do things all the time!”

you tilt your head in confusion, “isn’t that still a distraction?”

“not a constant one. this way you can let yourself heal — not get all tangled up with another boy. and use him to make you feel better.”

you gasp, “that’s not what i’m doing!” yunjin raises a brow at you, silently telling you she doesn’t believe you. “really. it’s like playing detective. i’ve even figured out how he died.”

now even yunjin can’t hide her curiosity at that. everyone had an idea; the whole wet dog look gave a lot away. but maybe he drowned, maybe he was murdered in water, maybe he was just wet when he died.

but you refused to tell her. if you had any possible future chance in getting to know sunghoon again he would feel so betrayed that you had told your friend his story. and yunjin is a sweetheart, but a little too gossip happy.

she’s also very fun, and very lively. she does a lot of things ranging from shopping to going to clubs. it’s fun but, admittedly scary. mostly due to the gruesome sight of some ghosts. one was missing a head!

the most eventful of you and yunjin’s rendezvous was the parties. specifically the one jake was hosting, the one you saw sunghoon at. yunjin was just as surprised as you to see him there. bustling crowds aren’t usually his thing. more like aren’t ever his thing.

but he was looking at you all night. that same monotone expression set like stone on his face. you were back to an outsider in his world. you missed that brief moment where you had gotten somewhere with him.

you couldn’t shake that off the days going forward. you didn’t hang out much with yunjin and you would be lying if you said you weren’t brainstorming ideas on how to approach sunghoon again. because why would he go to a party, which is not his scene, just to stare at you the whole time? he knew by now that you’re good friends with jake, he knew you would be there.

that brings you to now, you’re sitting in the library, mind finally off of sunghoon and onto the next distraction; reading as many books as you can in an hour and trying to beat your record each time. a clever game you have to say so yourself. you have eternity to play it.

you let out a shrill squeal when your chair is pulled out and swung around. sunghoon leans over you, hands on each side of the chair. you pull your book up to your face, covering all but your eyes. you squeeze them shut, flustered by the closeness and the stares you’re getting for your loudness.

“why did you stop?” god, this boy is getting awfully confusing.

“you’ve been begging me to!” you whisper shout, tossing your book to the side. he doesn’t move despite your little tantrum, his face still close to you and his eyes challenging you.

“but you don’t listen, why did you listen this time?”

you blink slowly, “you walked off like a defeated puppy the other day. i thought i hurt your feelings and leaving you alone would help.” sunghoon sighs exasperatedly,

“i wanted you to chase after me and go on about how you care and shit.” ah, he is like you after all. “look, when i was alive it was near impossible making friends. it’s why i avoid people now. but most of them don’t persist and i found it…”

he trails off and you beam up at him, “i’m just awesome aren’t i?” he rolls his eyes and backs away, grabbing a chair to sit across from you.

“i liked it. it felt different.” you wanted to fuss at him for running away from you if he liked how you treated him so much. but you bit your tongue and just nodded. “when you said what you said… it just sounded like everyone else and i panicked.”

you can’t help but giggle at him, and sunghoon glared at you. “i don’t talk this freely with anyone. you better treasure this, y/n.” you purse your lips and nod in response. but your smile grows once more as you lean towards him,

“does that make us friends?”

he merely sighs in annoyance and stands up, walking away. knowing his back was turned to you, he was able to smile freely when he heard the familiar clacking of your shoes behind him.

later that day when yunjin comes into your dorm you practically throw yourself on her like an excited puppy. “i won! i did it.” you laugh and grab her hands, shaking them in victory.

“you little gremlin, what did you do?”

you smirk at her and guide her to your bed. “i made friends with park sunghoon!” yunjin’s eyes widen and she lets out a short laugh,

“you’re kidding?”

you smile shyly and look down, “well he didn’t give me an exact answer… but he didn’t say no! he did that thing where he avoids my questions because he knows the answer is what i want, he just won’t admit it.”

yunjin’s jaw goes slack and she covers her mouth to giggle. “you sound like a schoolgirl talking about her crush right now.” you make a noise in protest and shake your head at her, reassuring her this is all out of pure curiosity. just interest — and not in the romantic way.

“mhm, sure. i believe you.” yunjin gives you a knowing look and you swat her shoulder. “so what now? what are you going to do now that you’re friends with him? follow him around still?”

you hum and tap your chin in thought, “i’ll probably annoy him more since i can do it without the fear of risking our friendship.” you think about it, you could ask him about why he didn’t have many friends when he was alive. you could maybe pave the way for sunghoon to make more friends.

you’re getting ahead of yourself. but you can’t help but be so intrigued by the pretty ice skater.

taglist: @adoredbyjay @natalunae @bluriki @boyfiejay

[booksandabeer]

Stucky Recs: Road Trips!

Well, well, well. Look at that! After only three months of constant whining about having no time to do it, I've finally managed to put together a new rec list! Yay.

The theme of this list was requested by multiple people and really, who doesn't love a good road trip story, right? And let me tell you, there are so many good ones, this post could've been twice as long. I'm actually already hoarding fics in my little folder to do a part two later this year.

But for now, please enjoy my effusive ramblings about the following 10 Road Trip fics + 1 Rail Trip fic:

🚗 you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all by biblionerd07 | T, 15K

Author's summary: Steve and Bucky aren't really much of a Steve and Bucky anymore these days. Steve's sure it's because Bucky doesn't see himself as the same guy who used to love Steve. In a desperate attempt to prove him wrong, Steve begs Bucky to go on a road trip together, the way they used to dream about, and does his best to remind Bucky of who he is.

A post-CW canon divergent fic that's in a lot of ways very soft, but with just enough of an edge to keep things interesting and the reader uncertain as to how everything will play out in it. This starts with a somewhat disaffected Bucky who has not (yet) regained all of his memories and a Steve who, in his desperation to reconnect with him, tries so hard but ends up saying and doing all the wrong things. As they travel around the country, they both find ways to let go and to unlearn and relearn each other. Features moments of heart melting yet tongue-in-cheek sappiness (so the absolute best kind of sappiness) and a fun background Sam/T'Challa pairing.

🚗 a black sky prickled with small lights by emilywithoutY | M, 26K

Author's summary: There's this: The July heat. A wide open road. An obnoxious country song on the radio. Bucky in the driver’s seat.

Or: Two hundred-year-old men and their Great American Road Trip

The ultimate, unashamed Steve-and-Bucky-visit-the-Grand-Canyon wish-fulfillment fantasy—and I mean that in the best possible way. The summer road trip vibes are impeccable. This is technically the third part in the Litanies series, but it absolutely works as a standalone. However, if you ask me whether you should read the entire series, the answer is obviously a resounding yes. It's not only one of the best EG-Fix-Its I've read but also comes with an additional fun and sexy twist on how to get these two to finally get their heads out of their asses. Anyway, in this installment, they have already done that and now they get to enjoy the road, their freedom, and most of all, each other. Includes: healing along the way, long overdue conversations, and the attempt to reconcile the joy of finally having all that time with the bittersweet reality of having all that time.

🚗 Blue Moon by what_alchemy | E, 15K

Author's summary: "Now are you gonna run away with me or not, Rogers?”

God, this story (this author, really)! I’ve read this fic so many times I’ve lost count. It features one of my favorite post-WS characterizations of Bucky. One where he's still—somehow after everything—a romantic at heart, but also clear-eyed and unsentimental enough about certain things to not shy away from laying out some uncomfortable truths for Steve and the reader alike (there’s one line in particular that is seared into my brain and every time I read it I personally feel so called out). Steve may be a bit more cautious and softer about it, but oh, he gives back just as good. Nobody is handling anyone with kid gloves here. A story about learning how to be together (again), defining one's very own version of 'Happy Ever After', and about being very much in love, and also very horny for each other.

🚗 Not Language but a Map (The Grammar of Sensation) by dorian_burberrycanary | E, 20K

Author's summary: Steve has never felt right running away from a fight, even if the fight is with unanswered questions. But it’s not running if it’s a road trip and the oldest, thorniest unanswered question is along for the ride.

If you follow my blog you will probably already know that I am head over heels in love with this entire EG-Fix-It Series. This third story is finished, but Steve & Bucky's road trip continues in part 4, which is currently being posted (updates weekly). I believe this fic can be read as a standalone but, really, why would you deprive yourself of even a single word of this absolutely magnificent series? Every word, every detail, every narrative choice feels deliberate and well thought out. It's a masterclass in subtle storytelling and yet so rich in its themes, characterizations and descriptions of people, places, and food. This fic will make you hungry in so many different ways. A lot happens between the lines which may require some patience at times, but when the emotional payoff hits—it really, really hits. I cannot recommend this enough. Spectacular all around.

🚗 where the days are longer by endofadream | E, 13K

Author's summary: And maybe that’s what they’re running from. Those ghosts. That minefield. The suffocating pressure to live up to who they used to be when who they used to be has now become stale, recycled words in textbooks and museums and clickbait online articles.

They fuck off to the coast, trying to put as many miles between them and D.C. as possible. New York is loud and claustrophobic at the best of times, but California has the open skies and roads that make Steve ease a little more into his skin.

I have such an immense fondness for this story. There are some very minor problems with shifting POV in the first chapter, but please don't let this deter you from giving this story a chance—it's got so much heart. This is a slow and meandering piece that can be best summed up as: Steve and Bucky being so very much in love. Set in some undefined period post-CATWS, in a world where the events of Civil War never happened, Steve and Bucky decide they’re tired of fighting and conforming to what everyone else wants them to be and just get in a car and drive all the way to California. There, they start figuring out how to live in the future while also accepting that they can never quite leave the past behind, and that time, indifferent to the tragedies of (not quite) mortal men, will inevitably keep marching on—whether they want it to or not. To quote directly from the story itself: They’re both men out of time, so they make their own.

🚗 Lightning in a Bottle by odetteandodile | E, 63K

Author's summary: The problem, Steve thinks, isn’t so much his motorcycle giving up the ghost on a lonely stretch of highway through a lonely stretch of the country. He doesn’t mind stretching his legs or the prospect of hitchhiking.The problem is the roiling black blanket of storm clouds slowly spreading itself over the landscape headed his direction…

Steve Rogers is looking to hitch on a highway abandoned by everyone smart enough to avoid a looming storm. Bucky Barnes is the professional storm chaser who offers him a ride. It gets more complicated from there. 

This AU offers an intriguing twist on the The Road Trip as a genre, Shrunkyclunks as a trope, and modern!Bucky as a character—it's an electric ride from start to finish—in more ways than one… *wiggles eyebrows* ...yeah ok, I’ll see myself out. It was either this or something about 'chasing all kinds of storms together' and I just couldn’t resist. Anyway, this story is a clever and unique take on canon events (not just limited to the CA movies!) and I don’t really want to give too much away and spoil all the fun, so I’ll just say this: If you are in the mood for a thrilling sci-fi/adventure/romance hybrid-story with beautiful evocative writing, characters that actually act like the smart, competent grown-ups they supposedly are, sex scenes that are both hot and emotional, and a touch of spy/mission fic to go along with a free crash course in weather phenomena—this is the fic for you!  

🚗 The Only Familiar Thing by brideofquiet | E, 39K

Author's summary: Steve takes a breath, steels himself, and asks, “Where are we going, Buck?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one driving, Steve.”

And before Steve can protest, Bucky gives him that broad, toothy grin again. The worry pitted in his stomach ebbs, and he decides—what the hell? Why not? Steve pulls his helmet on and swings a leg over the bike. Bucky settles in behind him, and he cranks the engine to life.

A Post-CATWS fic, in which Bucky has returned to Steve after being on the run for a while. They are together, share an apartment in Brooklyn, and Bucky has regained most of his memories—so yay! All good, right? Well, things are going…uh...let's say they're going. See, Steve and Bucky are still very much in love—the thing is, they're pretty good at the being in love part but pretty awful at the talking about it (and everything else that matters) part. So much so that they accidentally on purpose non-communicate and out-stubborn each other into going on a road trip, where things will eventually—inevitably—come to a head. Throughout the trip, the tension between them builds and builds until finally they have to admit that sometimes being partners, lovers, best friends, and knowing someone better than anybody else in the world, still doesn't mean that you can *actually* read their mind. Sometimes you gotta use your words. The author skillfully manages to create a story that treats its characters and their conflict seriously, while also infusing it with a healthy dose of humor and romance to always keep the readers on the right side of 'frustrated' (i. e. invested, not irritated).

🚗 old college try by kafkian | E, 19K

Author's summary: Bucky wonders if it’ll ever stop feeling like stealing: Steve Rogers, Captain America, the hope of a nation tucked into Bucky’s right hand. It’s the heist of the century.

In which Bucky Barnes remembers himself, Steve, and what it means to be selfish – not necessarily in that order.

Another old favorite of mine. Set post-CACW, this fic starts with a recently defrosted Bucky and a somewhat unmoored Steve in Wakanda, as they try to figure out what to do next: Keep fighting the never-ending wars of other people or run away, see the world, and retire to a quiet life? Well, since this is a road trip fic, I think you can guess which option they go for. It's a beautifully written story about Steve and Bucky's journey across continents and decades, and their ultimate arrival in a life that they never dared to hope they could have one day. This was written in 2016, so right between the fanfic avalanche caused by TWS and the frenzy of EG-Fix-Its. Re-reading this for the first time in quite a while made me realize that—aside from being a fantastic story in its own right—it's also an interesting commentary on popular Stucky fics that came before it (you can see clear influences but also some gentle rebuttals to popular fanon of the time) as well as very much a product of its time. And I don't mean that in a negative or disrespectful way at all, but simply, that it also serves as a fandom artifact; a text that reveals and reacts to certain trends, shifting attitudes, and developments in Stucky fanfiction over the years. Either way it's definitely well worth a read.

🚗 The Long Way: A Stucky Fancomic by BeaArthurPendragon, LittleWolf82 | T

Authors' summary: After Thanos is defeated, Steve doesn't stay in the past. This is the story of where he and Bucky go next.

A little something different here: a road trip fancomic! And oh, it's only one of my favorite fic writers teaming up with one of my favorite artists—what's not to love? This is an EG-Fix-It that simply ignores the last five minutes that Ruined It All and instead tells the story of what could've or should've happened to Steve and Bucky after EG. A story that is infinitely kinder and truer to these characters. Sweetly told and beautifully drawn—an absolutely wonderful collaboration.

🚗 i need a forest fire by tomorrowsrain | T, 65K

Author's summary: In which Tony Stark makes a reckless decision, becomes a wanted fugitive, goes on the run with the former Winter Soldier, and learns how to forgive. For his part, Bucky Barnes is just trying to hold himself together. AU, post-Civil War.

This is the only fic on this rec list that does not have Bucky and Steve going on a journey but instead it's Bucky and...Tony. WAIT! Hey, come back! I know that for a lot of Steve and/or Bucky fans the idea of reading a 65K fic that heavily features Tony Stark does not really sound like an enticing prospect. BUT! Hear me out. This is a fic that runs with one of the core concepts of fix-it fanfiction, which is: What if these characters actually talked to each other for a change? And yes, it gets messy and complicated and often painful—nothing is glossed over and no one is let off the hook easy. What you get here is a fantastically written story that is simultaneously an intimate & slow character study of both Bucky and Tony, a grand sweeping road trip fic with a thrilling plot that will have you on the edge of your seat (there is a moment in this where I really thought it was all over), AND a decade spanning tale of epic love. If you're worried that there is too little Stucky or Steve in this, don't be. Even before he shows up around the halfway mark of the fic, Steve is very much present the entire time. It's incredible what the author pulls off here. This is one of my all-time favorite fics. I love it a totally not normal amount.

🚂 Will There be Any Freight Trains in Heaven? by phoenixflight | E, 56K

Author's summary: It's summer of 1934, a quarter of all Americans are unemployed, and record numbers of migrant workers are hopping freight trains to seek their fortune out west. What are two boys from Brooklyn to do?

Or, Steve and Bucky ride the rails, become socialists, and fall in love, in no particular order.

This story is a bit of an outlier on this list because not only is it the only fic that's set in the pre-war period, it's also not strictly a road trip fic, but a rail trip fic. Usually the road trips in these stories are either (1) a last ditch effort at saving a friendship/relationship, (2) a way of finding oneself and/or making peace with one's past, or (3) the 'we survived all this and here we are together in the future, so let's go and actually see some of that world we fought so hard to save' victory lap. The impetus for travel in this fic, however, is born out of sheer necessity. It's the height of the Great Depression and Steve and Bucky are really poor and really desperate—so desperate even that they're willing to leave behind Brooklyn, their families, and their lives as they know it to go look for work in the West. This is not a fic that's always easy to read, circumstances are dire, attitudes are, ahem, authentic to the period, and the nostalgia-tinted glasses about the good old days before the war will get firmly knocked off your face. It's also a story that will show you time and time again that sometimes you will find kindness, love and almost overwhelming humanity in the places you least expect it. And listen, if period accuracy and a very political Steve Rogers do not convince you, let me tell you that there's also a lot of pining in this. So. Much. Pining.

Ok. This was fun.

Next up: Short fics under 10K

[airaibunny]

momo x reader - “drunken mistake” (warnings: angst with happy ending, intoxication, cheating[not really], arguing)

a/n: requested! i’ve never written angst before, pretty please give me feedback.

word count: 1.6k

with all of the current concerts, traveling, rehearsing, and such, you and your members haven’t gotten much free time at all. so of course when your managers told you guys there was a break in the schedule for entire weekend, you jumped at the opportunity to let loose a bit.

you normally can’t drink at all when you’re on tour because there’s so many things you have to do, but a weekend is the perfect amount of time to do so.

after your concert on friday, you all showered and met up in one of your hotel rooms. you decided to buy drinks and sit around, talking about random things. this is what’s happening right now. most of the members are very drunk, but you still haven’t had any drinks, and neither has your girlfriend, momo.

you and momo’s relationship isn’t exactly new. you’ve been dating for about a year or so and all of the members have been nothing but supportive.

momo is not normally responsible, so the fact that she’s not shotgunning beers with jihyo right now is impressive. you’re guessing her reason is entirely perverted though. she keeps staring at you with ‘fuck-me’ eyes. you can tell what she wants, but you’re not going to give in just yet.

“pass me one.”

you point at the cooler in the corner of the room and jihyo passes you a beer. you open it and drink it all at once, earning a few ‘woos’ and claps.

“guys! you know what she should do?”

jeongyeon stands up, snapping to get everyone’s attention.

“we should play never have i ever! we haven’t played in forever.”

everyone immediately jumps to their feet and walks to the middle of the room, sitting in a circle.

“can i start, please?”

tzuyu throws her hands in the air and pleads with you guys to let her go first. you all let her of course, given as she’s basically twice’s baby and gets whatever she wants.

“never have i ever told someone i would share a room with them but then actually stayed with someone else.”

she asks while looking at dahyun the entire time, definitely a targeted question. the game continues with relatively innocent questions and jabs at certain people, until it gets to sana’s turn.

“never have i ever fucked someone in this room.”

she stares you and momo down, obviously waiting for you both to put a finger down, so you do. you both roll your eyes at everyone who’s sarcastically gasping and just expect the game to move on.

“hey, why isn’t one of your fingers down, nayeon?”

you sit, half in shock at this revelation, until you realize what chaeyoung is referring to with that question.

a few months ago, while you were still in korea, you all went out to celebrate the new tour and got a little too carried away with the drinks. the j-line was busy preparing for their debut since they’d be on tour shortly and wouldn’t be able to shoot, so momo couldn’t join you. when the night was over, chaeyoung offered to take you and nayeon home with her since you both drunk way more than everyone else. you said yes and chaeyoung drove everyone to her apartment. in a drunken, sexually frustrated haze from not seeing momo in so long, you let nayeon kiss you bit. that was it, just kissing.

when you woke up the next morning, chaeyoung told you both what you did and how she stopped it before it went any further than kissing. you felt horrible, but begged nayeon and chaeyoung not to tell momo. you figured she’d never find out, and you and nayeon didn’t actually do anything, so hurting her by telling her wasn’t worth it.

“chaeyoung, i’ve never done anything with anyone here.”

nayeon tries to play it off and move the conversation along, but chaeyoung just won’t let it go.

“no, remember that one time at my house? you and y/n?”

momo awkwardly giggles beside you, hoping she heard it wrong or chaeyoung was just too intoxicated to know what she was saying.

“chaeyoung, you’re drunk. stop talking.”

you snap at her, looking at nayeon for help.

“stop gaslighting me. i saw what you two did.”

momo’s smile is completely faded, she’s just staring at you and nayeon with heavy eyes.

“what is she talking about?”

the room is completely silent, all eyes are on you and momo. her nose is rosy and you can tell she’s holding back tears. you open your mouth to deny everything, to explain, or even just to apologize, but nothing comes out. a tear streams down her cheek and she abruptly stands up, running to the door and out of the room.

“momo!” you yell and run right after her, glaring down at chaeyoung on your way out.

you reach the door of your dorm right before she shuts it, pushing it back open and locking it behind you. momo is standing at the foot of your bed with her hands on her hips, eyes glossy with tears.

“momo, i didn’t sleep with her. chaeyoung is drunk, she didn’t know what she was saying.”

your hands are shaky and your face feels hot even though the air around you is icy. momo’s silent sobs shatter you entirely, how could you hurt her like this?

“momo, please talk to me.”

she wipes her tears as more fall down, crossing her arms in front of her.

“what do you want me to say? you’ve been keeping this from me for god knows how long, and i didn’t even find out from you.”

her voice breaks at the end of her sentence.

“i thought telling you would just cause unnecessary pain-“

she interrupts you before you finish.

“don’t fucking say that. if you had told me when it happened, i would have been angry and upset, and maybe i would have needed some time; but i would have understood. right now, i don’t know what i need or feel. i genuinely don’t.”

her face is completely flooded with tears, it’s destroying you to see her like this. how could you be so stupid? you’re crying along with her now, choking back loud sobs.

“please don’t say that. i know what ‘i don’t know what i want’ means, and i can’t do that momo. please don’t make me.”

you walk closer to her, putting your arms around her neck. she stands there for a second with her face turned to the side, then she steps back, removing your arms from around her.

“you don’t get to ask me for that.”

her expression turns cold, there’s no trace of sadness or anger. she wipes her tears away one last time and they don’t come back, which just makes yours grow stronger.

“no, don’t do that. be angry at me, yell at me, even hit me if that’ll make you feel better. but don’t be apathetic, please.”

“you betrayed me, y/n. nayeon betrayed me. fuck, even chaeyoung betrayed me. this would have never come out if she didn’t get drunk. where were your emotions all this time? you didn’t seem upset at all, why should i be?”

her words cut deep because she’s entirely right. you felt guilty for maybe a week, but you quickly forgot about it. nayeon and chaeyoung never brought it up again, which likely means they also forgot. none of you felt any sort of way about it after it happened, so why should momo? fuck, you were so dumb. this is all your fault, you should have told her, why didn’t you just tell her?

“you’re right, i did betray you. but i love you hirai momo, only you. all i did was kiss her, that was it. i’m so sorry.”

your stomach sinks as she stands in front of you without saying anything. you have nothing else to say, no more defense. all you can hope for is that she’ll take some time and come back to you. you can’t lose her, you refuse to.

you feel ashamed of how distraught you are in front of her. you’re the one who wrong her, yet here you are; in uncontrollable tears while she looks at you completely somber.

“why didn’t you just tell me? if it was really just a kiss, why not just tell me?”

there’s a few seconds of silence while she waits for you to formulate an answer.

“because i was drunk, and i was weak. i missed you so much, i just needed to feel someone; i didn’t care who it was. i didn’t want to tell you that, momo, because i realize i sound like a whore.”

you can see her eyes glaze over again and you feel relieved in a strange way. this means she cares. she steps closer to you, wiping away your tears as her her own fall down once again.

“don’t call yourself that. you’re not a whore. i left you alone, this was basically my fault.”

you put your hand over hers, still on your cheek.

“no, don’t blame yourself, please. i already feel bad for doing it, i don’t want to feel worse because you’re taking the blame.”

your foreheads press together and you just stand there, crying for a few of minutes. she presses her lips against yours, not letting go for a couple of seconds.

“i love you, so much, and i know you love me back. this is a big bump in the road, but we’ll get over it.”

momo pulls away to reassure you that everything will be fine, kissing you once more before fully pulling you into her arms and embracing you tightly.

“thank you. thank you so much for not immediately breaking up with me.”

“don’t thank me. just trust me when you make a mistake, please.”

[antimonyandthyme]

sewis batman au

Seb is Not Happy about it.

Mark says, “You like cars,” like that’s any consolation.

“It’d be fine if you were sending me there to watch cars, I do like that,” Seb says. “But you’re sending me there to babysit.”

“You’re talking about the world champion,” Mark says, as if Seb doesn’t know. “World champion seven times.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of who Lewis Hamilton is, Mark.”

“So we’re all on the same page.” Mark claps his hands together, the way Seb’s science teacher used to do when she’d go Pencils down! at the end of a test. Seb’s pencil was usually already down, the lead broken into two then four then eight pieces because he’d grown bored waiting for the time to run up. Even now it feels like he’s waiting for the world to catch up. “I’m counting on you. Don’t fuck it up.”

Seb opens his mouth to argue, then slams it back shut. Guilt gnaws at him when he sees the stack of reports languishing on Mark’s desk. He’d heard the Chief bellowing at Mark yesterday; everyone had. Gotham Gazette had gotten some very incriminating pictures of Seb letting the Batman into the Royal Hotel.

Police seek help from MASKED VIGILANTE on mayor’s abduction

Jenson slid the paper silently across the desk, only after Seb had his morning coffee in his hands. One look, and Seb knew the damage control would be severe. He hadn’t thought it would involve Gotham’s about-as-interesting-as-a-rock billionaire. The guy’s good at driving fast. Great. That’s about all the personality Seb’s partial to.

“I’d actually take a suspension over this,” Seb says wearily.

“How much does it speak about our sad state of affairs if I tell you I can’t afford that?” Mark sounds equally as tired. The Force is wearing thin with the spate of crime ratcheting at an all-time high. Sometimes Seb steps foot out of his front door and half-expects the pavement to cave away from under him. The city’s running on its own fumes. “You know I can’t afford that.”

“I know,” Seb says. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

“No you’re not.”

No, he’s not. Not twenty minutes in and the Batman had pointed out evidence under the carpet and behind the safe and within the mayor’s pet dog that they would have taken two weeks to find, if they had adhered to proper protocol. Proper protocol! the Chief yelled, and everyone in the bullpen had turned to glare at Seb.

Seb offers his most apologetic smile. Mark rolls his eyes.

“If you’re done complaining, kindly fuck off now.” Mark scrubs a hand through his hair. The grey glinting off his temples makes Seb want to toss a match to the powder keg hiding under the foundations. Just be done with it. If they lose Mark, they lose Seb. If they lose Seb, they lose the Batman. If they lose the Batman, the city is as good as gone. “I’ve got twenty-one complaints to field because of the stunt you pulled yesterday.”

“Yessir,” Seb says. With a little bit of heart injected into it.

--

“Commissioner Vettel,” Hamilton purrs. Seb fights to keep his expression neutral. Hamilton’s arm is heavy around him. He’s dressed in a sleeveless mesh garb for the driver’s parade, even though the weather’s crisp at best. It looks… irritatingly good on him. “I see the Force sent their brightest.”

“Only the best for the city’s elite,” Seb says through a smile pulled so comically across his face it feels like stitches.

“And for the city’s masked avengers, as well.”

The smile drops from Seb’s face. The one on Hamilton’s merely grows. “Hanging out with him when you could be in so much better company, Commissioner,” Hamilton says easily. He pushes close into Seb’s space, and Seb, who prides himself in reading people well, blinks twice at the gates shuttered behind Hamilton’s eyes. “I’d advise you to pick your partners more wisely.”

There’s a split second where Seb hears Mark’s voice—Don’t fuck it up—before all that precaution washes away like rain down a drainpipe. A week ago the Batman had pulled Seb into the protective circle of his arm and chest plate as Alonso’s guards opened fire on them. There was nothing Seb’s Glock could do against three assault rifles. The Batman had taken every single bullet. Then, visibly injured, he’d proceeded to step in front of Seb, and knock the assailants out with their own weapons.

Alonso had escaped. Seb couldn’t have cared less at the moment. “You’re hurt,” he’d cried out, dismayed. The Batman was swaying on his feet. “Let me see, let me see—”

And for the wildest moment, the Batman had almost moved to remove his armour, leaning into Seb, before he stumbled away as if burned. He grappled up a building and disappeared into the night, with Seb calling helplessly after him.

No care allocated for himself. Seb could have hardly picked a better partner. One who's constantly putting himself in the line of fire.

His lips are moving before he can stop himself. “I’m hardly billionaire circle-jerk material, Mr. Hamilton.”

Hamilton’s mouth drops open.

The grin’s back on, stretched out like a Glasgow smile. “Look at this jacket I’m wearing! It’s ten years old, can you believe that? Look at this watch. Complete with blood splatter on its strap, from when I tried but failed to stop a colleague from bleeding out. Why do I keep this still? Maybe I’ve been too lazy to get it changed.”

“Commissioner—”

“And look at these shoes! You won’t believe the shit I’ve waded through in them. Can’t even afford to buy new ones. Do you know what a public servant makes a year?”

Hamilton opens his mouth, almost as if to say yes.

Seb scoffs. “So you see, I’m far more suited to the lowly creatures of society. They've done more for this hellhole than people like you." The urge to defend is so great. "And I dare say the bats in the alleys might even enjoy my company.”

“I dare say they would,” Hamilton says quietly. Seb flicks his gaze up at Hamilton to glare, but Hamilton’s looking at him with the most open expression he’s seen since they were within three feet of each other. They glance away, like chastised children at the principal’s office told to get along.

“So,” Hamilton clears his throat. “If you hate my guts this much, why are you here?”

Seb can recognize an olive branch, even when dangled from the bejeweled fingers of a billionaire. He shrugs. “I like cars.”

“Alright man,” Hamilton says, bumping their shoulders together. He keeps a respectful distance this time. “I buy that.”

--

The five lights go on. Seb doesn’t want to admit he’s standing on his tip toes, trying to peer over a tall mechanic’s shoulder. Hamilton had insisted he be in the Mercedes garage, even after Seb had gone flapping his mouth like a loose carton box. He’d made Seb tea—made it himself, no personal assistant involved. Mixed in sugar and oat milk like he knew exactly what he was doing, which Seb didn’t want to question why he could guess at. Billionaires are weird.

Seb waits for the final beep like the sound of a safety clicking off.

Hamilton gets the best start. Of course he does. Seb unclenches his pumped fist hastily. No one spares him a second glance. Hamilton takes the first corner with Leclerc right on his tail, and then—

Not everyone notices the shots at first. There’s too much noise from the track, and most of them are wearing headphones. But Seb flinches, having come to recognize the sound from daily acquaintance.

“Get down,” he yells. Around him, the crew just looks at him weird. “Get down, someone’s firing—”

Pop pop pop

Now they get the memo. The screams start. Seb grabs at one confused mechanic and pulls him to the ground, points at the entrance, shouts Go, go! They’re sitting ducks here.

Pop pop pop

Seb’s ears are ringing. Two assailants, three? Fuck, four. Seb chances a glance at the monitors, anything to give him a hint as to what’s going on. The race is still going, amid bewildered radios from the drivers. The shots must have been audible in their comms. Seb squints. You notice the silliest things when your life’s in danger. Hamilton’s car is no longer in the lead. He must have been overtaken in the chaos.

He swallows down the oddest sense of disappointment and pulls his eyes away from the screen. Pop, and something bursts into pieces barely two feet from him. Seb scrambles behind some machinery, drawing his Glock from his hip. He’s got no idea where they’re firing from, though he’s never pulled out of a game of chicken.

Deep breath. He peeks out from behind the dented equipment. Pop, it glances close enough for Seb to count that as one of his nine lives gone. He aims in the direction the shot came from, fires one off.

A muffled yell. One down. Seb’s back behind the life-saving machinery. He spots one of the pit crew frozen on his knees in the middle of the floor, stranded like an unprotected island. Seb allows himself a moment of hesitation, and then he’s barrelling for the quaking man, while more shots go off around him, and hauling him behind some tires.

“Stay back—”

He’ll never get used to bullets hitting his vest. They hurt like a motherfucker, tactical lining be damned. Three successive shots to his chest, and the wind gets knocked out of him. He drops to the ground, the debris left over from a hurricane. Alive, he clocks himself. Alive, so get up. Get up, get up—

They never did invent proper bulletproofing for legs. When he gets out of here—if, he gets out of here, Seb is going to make Mark dedicate an entire R&D faction to bulletproofing legs. The pain punches through him, and he collapses on his wounded leg.

Blood’s pouring out. Hold on. Blood’s pouring out at a speed reminiscent of that time when Seb couldn’t stop the bleeding.

More yelling, and the rain of bullets stops. That's good, because Seb can't hope to do a blessed thing at the moment.

“Your femoral artery’s been hit,” someone says. “Hang on, Sebastian. I need to tie this off.”

Seb must be dreaming, because Lewis Hamilton is looming above him. Wasn't he just in a car? When did he get here? When did he get so tall? Oh. Seb’s on the ground, that’s why. Seb’s on the ground bleeding out, and his leg is on fucking fire.

“Hurts,” he gasps. “Hurts like hell.”

“I know, you’re alright,” Hamilton says. “You’re alright, Seb.” He sounds like—like he’s on the brink. Like Seb is standing on the thinnest ice surface, and Hamilton is right there, ready to break through. Seb’s not sure he understands. Hamilton can’t possibly care about him this much; he can’t possibly care at all.

Hamilton’s found some wire in the garage, and he pulls it around the highest part of Seb’s thigh, right up against his groin.

“Ask a man out first, Jesus,” Seb mumbles. He’s not sure he likes the look on Hamilton’s face. Devastation doesn’t suit a billionaire, and maybe some part of Seb still wants to preserve the sanctity of the institutions that run the city. Is it wrong to desire a life where he doesn’t tread from one landmine to the next every other week? Is it wrong? God, what kind of man does that make him?

“I would’ve,” Hamilton says. He’s yanking the wire tight, causing Seb to jerk and scream. Hamilton’s fingers are feather light on Seb’s face. His eyes are raw earth, freshly torn apart by a rake. “I would’ve, baby.”

“Can’t afford dinner with you,” Seb manages. “My yearly salary is—”

“Sixty-eight grand,” Hamilton finishes for him, hauling Seb up. Fuck, the guy’s strong. If he wasn’t about to die this would be such a turn on.

As it stands, dying sucks. The pain is close to unbearable.  

“How—” Seb’s eyelids are flickering shut. Trying to keep them open is not working. The ground is moving beneath him. Ah. The ground is moving very quickly beneath him. Seb’s going to throw up. Or pass out. He hopes it’s the latter.

Hamilton’s chest feels familiar. Seb’s cheek is smushed up against it, and he swears he can hear the thudding of Hamilton’s heart. Don’t Formula 1 drivers have some of the lowest resting heart rates?

With the last of his consciousness, “How do you know how I take my tea?”

“Stay alive,” Hamilton says, far and getting further away from him, “and I’ll tell you when you wake.”

--

Seb throws up on the pillow covers twice before he can force his eyes open. He half expects to see a sleeveless meshed figure by his bed.

He doesn’t know what to feel when it’s the Batman’s situated at the hospital window, watching him. Seb’s sleep hasn’t been the smoothest, and in his most lucid moments he remembers a shadow in the room. Not a bad one. A safe one, a guardian angel. The Batman’s been there for awhile. Standing still as a statue like he’ll stay until the pillars of the city come crumbling down.

“Alonso’s taken care of,” the Batman says. His voice doesn’t have its usual gravelly bite. He just sounds exhausted. “And I saw to it that the guns they were trafficking—”

“You have the worst bedside manners,” Seb says.

The Batman falls silent. He’s cradling something reverently in his gloves. Ah, it’s Seb’s watch. It looks so delicate in his hands. Infuriating, how he never allows himself to touch. How he could have walked two steps to the side of Seb’s bed but instead positions himself far away, stealing one of Seb’s belongings for makeshift comfort.

If he wasn’t so high on meds Seb supposes he would be angry. All he has is the strength to stare at the Batman’s gloved hands.

The reason why Seb’s pencils were always down in science class before the teacher could even announce it: he loves evidence. It’s the cornerstone of everything he does. It’s truth, it’s judgement for those who deserve it, it’s justice. It’s the utter satisfaction when an experiment succeeds, when Phenolphthalein changes colour as an indicator that the acid and base have cancelled each other out.

The Batman’s fingering a spot on the strap of his watch. Not many people would notice that spot. It’s just the tiniest drop of blood.

“Lewis,” Seb says.

The watch slips from the Batman’s fingers. He catches it with lightning-quick reflexes. And then he stands rooted to the ground, every muscle pulled painfully taut. Seb can see right through the mask now, Lewis’ face dissolving in a riot of emotion.

“Come here,” Seb says, and Lewis comes. Silent and obedient like Seb could ask anything of him. The most terrifying entity of Gotham, the only thing the dark’s afraid of, and he’s hunched by the side of Seb’s bed like a sinner in a confession booth. “I’m bang on the money, aren’t I?”

“I said you were the Force’s brightest,” the Batman—no, Lewis, says.

“The most begrudging of compliments,” Seb says.

“I meant it, but you didn’t like it the first time I said it.”

“I didn’t like you then.”

“But,” Lewis swallows. “You do now?”

“You saved my life.” Many, many times. “Kinda hard not to.”

The gloves are brushing against Seb’s hair, with the lightest hint of pressure. Lewis doesn't say, Don't tell anyone. Seb adores him for it.

“Take those off,” Seb complains. He’s bedridden; he’s allowed to be petulant.

A beat, and Lewis strips the gauntlets off. The hand’s back on Seb’s head, stroking, petting. Lewis is looking at him like he’s something the Batman could never be allowed to have. Lewis is touching him like he’s something more precious than the heart of this rotting city. Seb’s eyes are slipping shut. He reminds himself to have a chat with Lewis about this. Mark is going to have to field twenty-one times twenty-one complaints. This will be exceedling complicated. But he doesn’t think the Commissioner of Gotham, or the Bat of Gotham, ever got off with easy.

“About dinner.”

“Might be some time,” Seb slurs.

“I can wait,” Lewis says. “Have done, for awhile now. But I’ve got an open table at the Ocelot.”

“Prick.”

“You like it.”

The hand stays on his head. Seb closes his eyes to the shadows.

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 6: Something Fishy

Summary: A curious visitor comes to Emerald Grove.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 4,831

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’

‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.

Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.

Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.

‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’

‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’

‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’

He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.

‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’

‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’

They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.

Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.

‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’

‘Eager to see it!’

She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.

‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Eighteen gold coins.’

‘Perfect, thank you.’

He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.

He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.

‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’

The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.

‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’

Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.

‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’

‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’

‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’

She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.

Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.

As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.

‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’

The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.

‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.’

Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.

The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.

After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.

‘Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise!’

Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.

‘It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-).’

His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.

‘Morning, doctor!’

Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.

His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.

‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’

Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’

He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.

‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’

She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.

‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’

Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.

‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’

‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.

Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.

‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.

‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’

‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’

‘Not at all. Sorry.’

He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.

‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’

‘Noted!’

Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.

‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’

‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’

Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.

‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’

‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.

‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’

Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.

‘Thank you very much, doctor.’

‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’

She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.

‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’

‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.

‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’

Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.

‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.

‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’

‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’

They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’

‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’

‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’

‘I will!’

She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.

‘Morning.’

‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’

The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.

‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’

Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.

‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’

Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.

‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’

‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’

‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’

Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.

Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.

When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.

‘Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin???’

Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 

‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.

‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’

‘I see. Does she have an account?’

‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’

‘Of course.’

Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.

Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.

‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’

Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.

‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’

Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.

The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.

‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’

‘That is good to know, I suppose.’

‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’

Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.

Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.

‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’

The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.

‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’

Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.

In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.

Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’

The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.

‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.

‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’

‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’

As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.

‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’

‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’

Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.

‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’

Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.

‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’

‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’

The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.

‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’

Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.

‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’

Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.

‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’

‘What did he say his name was?’

Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.

‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’

His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.

‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.

‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’

‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’

The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.

‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’

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