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whatiswrongwithpeople · 2 days ago

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Unspoken Understandings

part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)

Part 1

Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.

Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff

Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.

Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe

The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.

But the nights…

The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.

Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.

But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

---

It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.

“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.

Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.

Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.

Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.

But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.

Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”

Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.

Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.

With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.

---

It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.

But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?

But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.

You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.

You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”

“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”

Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.

You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”

Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”

You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.

For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.

You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.

When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.

“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”

Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.

The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”

Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.

“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.

There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.

You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.

It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.

Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.

His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.

When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.

Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”

Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”

You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”

He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”

Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.

Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”

You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.

After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.

“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.

Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”

And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.

#arcane #arcane netflix #jayce talis #arcane x reader #arcane jayce #jayce talis x reader #arcane imagines #jayce x reader #arcane jayce x reader #jayce arcane x reader #jayce talis imagine

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sweetflanfiction · 1 day ago

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Asymmetrical Symphony

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written and GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

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There was a second. Less than a second before Ekko's time flowed again. In that, second before Jayce and Viktor vanished into nothingness, before time turned in your favor. In that second you felt your mind separate from your body, your consciousness being bent into a spiraling corridor of Hextech, your soul being erased and repainted with the runes you studied. And then…white…a flash of nothingness and the ticking sound of a clock and in a blink of an eye you jolted awake.

The impact with something cold and hard took the breath out of you, feeling it hit right below the diaphragm. You kept sliding down something until you woke up enough to figure out where you were and how fast gravity was working against you.

You quickly figure out where you were: the Hexgate rooftop. The place you had been standing a second ago, looking at a white construct plucking all your memories away, now a dark slide with a not-so-fun ending. You cured under your breath, your hands finding anything they could grab and stop the swift descent. Finally, your fingers clawed at a sill and you haphazardly stopped your death by floor.

With two big puffs of air, you managed to pull yourself up the ledge and immediately fall on your back, when you figured the ground was straight. You could feel your lungs explode with cold air, the tears you had before drying out in the night air.

You frowned. Night air? Something snapped in your brain and straightened your back, sitting on your small perch. It was broad daylight … The flood of memories and images hit you all at once, and you felt all of them all at once. You felt your brain split open and be sewn back together. Jayce, Viktor, your two friends, broken and made whole again. The hextech, the hex core, and its idea of a hive mind world. Mel, a force of nature finally found what she was truly made of, marble and gold. Caitlyn and Vi, the backbone of the enforcers. You, a high society figure tangled in the science you patronized, turned fighter for Piltover's survival.

You heard the chaos of the last hour in your mind, the screams, the clinking of swords and blasts of guns. The smell of blood, fear, and magic.

You felt it all until…you didn’t. And it all became quiet. The silent whisper of the wind on your face and the normal sound of a city under your feet.

You got up on unsteady feet, realizing you were still wearing your makeshift enforcer armor. You looked around, seeing the skyline of the city, bathed in an orange moonlight, until you reached the Academy’s dome. A silent gasp came out of your mouth.

It was still intact.

The gasp turned to frown and the hope to realization. You took a step back as you watched the red moon reflected on the glass pane.

It was still intact, but not for long.

You remembered Jayce talking about how he got to go to a different time, an alternate universe. A divergence in reality that sent him somewhere. His description was dire, filled with what he called ‘Hex Angels’ coming after him. But this seemed like your world, your time. Before Jinx attacked the council.

Before Jayce placed Viktor in the hextech bath, turning him into the Herald.

You had one chance. One impossible chance.

The urgency of needing to get to council chambers hit you like a brick and you started to try and make your way inside the hexgate. Find an enforcer, tell them to get you into the chamber, and warn the councilors of the attack. If it would be easy, you were a well-known face in Piltover. Your father was a respected figure, an old councilman, only giving up his seat when your mother died 20 years ago. Getting into that chamber would be easier than getting down from this rooftop.

Which you managed with surprising ease, thanking Caitlyn for showing you the many ventilation entryways where the enemies could try and get inside.

And your feet hit the metallic floor of a walkway you ran as fast you could to any place you deemed safe to jump down. It seemed like a never-ending spiral that was clawing into your anxiety. But when you were about to scream you found yourself face to face with a door with a sign “Maintenance. Do not open it if Hexgate is hot.”

You gave it a few tugs. Nothing. You groaned and started pounding on it, until you saw an enforcer come to the door, frowning.

He opened the door, a hand on the handle, another on his electric baton.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

You frowned at the first question but answered it. His eyes looked nonplussed and you frowned deeper. You hated to pull this card but you didn’t know how much time you had.

“Do you not know who I am?” Your voice echoes through the tube. “I don’t care who you are! You are trespassing on government grounds” He grabbed your forearm and roughly pushed you into a small corridor. “How did you even get in there?” He mumbled to himself, losing the door. “Doesn’t matter. I need to get to the council chamber.” You blurted out, knowing by his demeanor it was futile. “Pal, you're going straight to HQ to answer how you got into a place with only three guarded doors, and why.”

He once more grabbed your elbow and dragged you away from the metal door towards a minuscule industrial elevator. With his free hand, he grabbed the key ring around his belt and unlocked it. It was beautifully crafted, as was everything in Piltover, but the cramped space and your shoulder pauldron made it difficult for both of you to get inside at the same time.

You looked at the Enforcer, while he was trying to figure out if going down the thousands and thousands of stairs was worth it. The stairs were barely used, placed there by an overzealous engineer and much like the door to the elevator, it was locked.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered to the guy and when he turned you did your best Vi impression and head-butted him, leaving him hurting and confused. You quickly snatched the keys from him and rushed to the stairs.

“Stop!” You heard him mumble, trying to regain his balance.

Yanking the door open you rushed down the stairs, jumping whole sets of stairs at a time, using the walls as a concrete cushion to break your descent. You kept jumping and running and colliding with the walls, begging that the ground floor appeared soon.

The last landing was below you and you saw four enforcers open the door below you and rushed in, looking up and spotting you. You couldn’t take them all.

Before you could do anything you felt something shift. Similar to when someone stretched after a good nap, but it was in the air around you. Not the air you realized, the reality around you awakened. It whispered something unintelligible, but you heard it even above the guards shouting at you. A faint piano note followed and right in front of you a rune appeared. Like a pattern on a broken mirror.

A magical rune, you remembered talking with Jayce and Viktor about it.

The officers were approaching and without thinking you inscribed the rune with your foot on the dusty floor of the stairwell. Once made you waited. The guards stopped for a moment looking confused. Nothing happened.

A conversation between you and your father flashed in your head. You had finished practicing a piece on the piano, your father, ever the willing audience sat with a frown on his face.

“What's wrong?” you asked, turning to him and he shook his head. “Is it supposed to be a happy song?” He asked and you shook your head. “No, it’s a requiem, but I didn’t feel like playing a sad song, so I changed the note.”

Your father smiled sadly and got up from his armchair.

“My dear child, if a song is intended to be sad, then it must be played as such. That was its intended purpose.” He placed a hand on your shoulder “You are only a tool to bring that song to life, your aim should be to bring it to life.”

Intention. You’re a tool with a purpose. You nodded and took a deep breath. Looking up at the enforcers you thought about what the objective of your plan was. Leave. Move from here. And then, you stomped your boot to the ground and a wave of air burst from it. Like a gust of powerful wind, knocking the enforcers down.

You looked at the groaning bodies on the floor, your chest heaving in deep breaths. For a second you were frozen to the ground, until the clanking of metal armor and footfalls snapped you out of it.

“I’m so sorry…” You whispered to the guards on the ground and ran outside the hexgate, shoving whoever stepped in your path out of the way.

You relied on your muscle memory of Pilltover to get you to the University where the Council of Clans was to be taking place. You managed to lose most of the enforcers by swerving into the building’s back alleys, stopping only by a garbage chute to dispose of the outer layer of armor you still had on, leaving you with a simple pair of blue pants and a tank top.

Arriving at the University steps you slowed down and walked confidently towards the enforcers at the door, hoping they had not been warned about your encounter at the Hexgated and that they knew about who you were. The last part was quickly dismantled as they stepped towards you with a hand up.

“I am here for the Council meeting.” You announced, your tone showing the confidence you didn’t have, but that years of practice made second nature. “Good evening. We are not expecting any visitors.” The enforcer replied, politely. “Please turn back and come back tomorrow with an appointment.” “Councilwoman Mel Medarda is expecting me.” Your tone dripped with the impatience only a Topsider was known to have. “I am truly sorry, but we are not expecting visitors. If any member of the Council was expecting you we would have been warned.” The other enforcer repeated and started towards you. “This is astounding. How dare you stop me from an engagement with a Councillor? Preposterous. I will tell your supervisor about this…” “As is your right. Now please turn around.”

You huffed and puffed, putting on a performance of a lifetime until you finished the rune you had learned minutes ago. Once that was done you turned to the enforcers and once again apologized, watching as they got knocked on their asses when you stomped the rune with your boot. It was enough for you to walk to them and grab another key ring for your collection.

Unlocking the side door of the main entrance you stepped inside while hearing shouting approaching from the outside. Time is running out. You looked at the marble steps and both you and your knees groaned. You took the steps two by two until you reached the second landing and then you found the main elevator. You had no time to wait for the thing to arrive nor to go to the last floor by the stairs.

Reality did the thing again and once more a rune whispered and showed itself as if it was a patch on the elbows of a jacket. There was no dust on the floor or walls, nothing for you to write the rune on.

All of a sudden you felt a burning sensation in your hand and looked at it. In your palm, a bright blue rune appeared, glowing in the darkened university hall. The bright light spread, filling your palm, your knuckles and your fingers. When you moved your hand to turn it and watch the light consume the rest of your extremities, you noticed your fingers were painting light into the air. You moved your fingers in a wave a small path of light painted the air in front of you, like a stroke of a brush on canvas.

Once again, the clanking of armor and shouting kicked you out of your stupor and you used your now weirdly illuminated hand. For a second today, the rune did nothing and once again you thought of the purpose you had. Reach the last floor.

Another voice flashed in your head. Vi’s shouts when you were on the hexgate, back…back there.

“Well…don’t just stand there…push forward…get them out!”

Push forward. Quickly you drew the rune in the air and just as Vi sometimes spoke with her fists, you did the same, punching the rune with enough force to push it towards its destination.

The elevator pinged and opened its double doors and you rushed inside. The elevator took off as fast as it could with its old gears but it was still quicker than the steps and by the quiet you were hearing, the enforcers were still finding a way up.

As soon as the elevator stopped you were darting towards the gigantic doors. Midway, you caught a glimpse of something shining through the sky through a window—the rocket. Jinx was going through the motions of pulling the trigger if she hadn’t pulled it already. If the rocket was already in the air, you had seconds to put a stop to the Herald’s ascension.

You swerved right, knowing the main doors would be guarded, but the side doors were usually…hopefully… left unattended. Never did a sigh of a door make you so happy. You grabbed the door handle. Locked.

Instinctively you made the gust of air rune in the air and punched it, the door rattled. You groaned loudly, your desperation evident. You painted the rune again but made it bigger. The door rattled again. If not size, then quantity. You made four runes on the ground, in a single line and stomped on it.

The door flew open and you ran inside, watching as everyone in the room fell silent. You hadn’t been inside the chamber when the rocket hit, but you knew that Mel’s shield had naturally appeared to protect her. Jayce, being so close to her, had been protected, but Viktor was a breath away from it.

Mel’s eyes snapped to you as you took several gulps of air. Looking at a smaller window in the chamber you saw a light fly towards the dome. You locked eyes with Viktor, sitting on a chair, his expression confused.

As you dashed towards him, Mel and Jayce, you were half tempted to use magic again, but when he reached for his cane you stopped that thought. You weren’t about to throw poor Viktor around, this was gonna hurt as it was.

A councilman got up in an attempt to stop you, but Vi and Caitlyn's training had paid off and you quickly skidded away. You were centimeters from Viktor when a blue glow bathed the chamber. Everyone’s face turned towards the domed ceiling. As everyone’s eyes were transfixed on the sky you grabbed Viktor's hand and pulled him to you as you rushed towards Mel. You heard the glass shattering as the rocket hit the target, the force of the impact enough to send you crashing to the ground, never letting go of the bony hand in yours. And then…blackness…

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aliyahwritings · 3 hours ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (10)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.7k

Aliyah's Notes: another long chapter!!!! had a bit of an issue with this chapter. didn't know where to go, and how to finish it but i'm pretty satisfied with the ending... hope y'all will feel that way too #scared

You were going to throw up.

It was 6 in the morning, and your apartment was filled with a pre-party energy—Aisha fluttering around checking final details, making sure everything was perfect for you. But for you, the weight of the day felt unbearable. The engagement party was only a few hours away, and you were supposed to feel excited, but instead, all you could feel was anxiety.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at your reflection as the fabric of your saree clung to your skin. It was a beautiful one—pale yellow with blue hues, simple, elegant. But as you looked at yourself, all you saw were flaws. Your stomach, the slight curve of your hips, your arms felt weird. Every inch of you felt exposed, like you were wearing your insecurities on display for the world to see. The saree that was supposed to make you feel confident now felt like a prison, the tightness around your chest suffocating you.

You tugged at the fabric, your fingers trembling as your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know, Aish,” you said, your voice faltering. “I just… I don’t think I can do this.”

Aisha, who had been running around your place, stopped and turned to you with a frown, concern written all over her face. “Y/N, you look perfect. Rafe is going to love it, I swear. You look incredible, seriously.”

But her words didn’t reach you. They never did. They didn’t fix the sinking feeling in your stomach, the pit that had been growing since you woke up. You didn’t feel incredible. You felt like a mess. Like a lie. You felt like you didn’t belong in this world of glitz and glamour, not when the weight of your own past was pressing down on you.

You turned back to the mirror, avoiding her gaze, and exhaled shakily. “It’s not about Rafe,” you said, barely above a whisper, as if the words were too heavy to say aloud. “It’s… it’s everything. Everyone.”

She didn’t speak at first, but you could hear her footsteps approach slowly, her presence gentle and calm as she stood beside you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re not here,” you murmured, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “My family—they haven’t been here. They don’t care.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and so did the tears running down your face. You quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain some sort of control, but it was useless. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave.

Aisah’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I know it’s tough, but you left for a reason. They treated you like an animal—you were nothing to them and look at you now. You have everything you want, you’re surrounded by people who love you, and you’re engaged to an amazing guy.”

“But you don’t get it,” your voice broke. “I haven’t spoken to them in years, Aisha. I haven’t heard from them since… you know… My Amma and Appa… they’ve never cared to fix what happened. And now they’re not here for this huge moment. They’re not here for me. And I just feel… I feel like none of this matters without them.”

You could feel the tightness in your chest grow, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Every time you thought about them—your parents, your siblings—it felt like the world was falling apart again. All the years of silence, the anger, the bitterness, the feeling of being abandoned… it was all still there, festering under the surface. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were always going to feel like the outsider, the one who wasn’t good enough for their love.

Aisha watched you quietly for a moment before speaking again, her voice softer. “Y/N, I know this isn’t easy. But this isn’t about your family. This is about you and the life you’re building. You’re so much more than your past, and tonight you get to shine. You’re not doing this for them. You’re doing it for you.”

You closed your eyes, letting her words sink in. You still feel the weight of it all, but as Aisha gave you one last reassuring look, you felt a small spark of resolve. Maybe you didn’t feel perfect. Maybe you never would. But tonight, you would step into this new chapter of your life, for you, and not for anyone else.

“You’re right,” you whispered, putting on a fake-ish smile. “Let me get over this. There’s too much to do today.”

The hours before the engagement party moved in a blur of preparations, but the nerves clung to you like an unwelcome guest. After Aisha helped you steady yourself, you dove into the checklist for the day, hoping to lose your anxieties in the bustle. Your hairdresser and makeup artist arrived promptly, transforming your apartment into a whirlwind of brushes, palettes, and fabric draping.

Despite the chaos, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone every few minutes, the screen lighting up teasingly with messages from Rafe. He’d been training all morning, but somehow still found the time to send you a steady stream of texts.

Rafe: Do you think this party will have snacks? Asking for a hungry basketball player.

You: There’s a buffet, Rafe. You’ll survive.

Rafe: Buffet doesn’t count. I want something good, like that thing you brought over the other day.

You: If you’re fishing for more biryani, the answer is no.

Rafe: Wow, first you take my penthouse, now you refuse me food? This marriage is starting off rocky.

You: This marriage hasn’t even started yet.

The exchange brought a smile to your lips despite yourself. He had this way of teasing that felt like a lifeline at the moment.

“Are you blushing?” Aisha teased from where she was meticulously laying out your jewelry.

“What? No,” you said, far too quickly. “Why would I even be blushing? You’re nuts… absolutely… absolutely nuts…”

“Oh my fucking God! You are!” she said with a grin, leaning in to glance at your phone. You pulled it away before she could peek at the screen, but the damage was done. “God, it’s so cute how he makes you smile like that.”

“You’re actually insane,” you mumbled, heat creeping up your neck.

She only laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Denial is a river in Egypt, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your lips from twitching into a small grin. Rafe sent another message.

Rafe: So, what are you wearing?

You hesitated for a moment before replying.

You: Why? Thinking of copying my outfit?

Rafe: Maybe. But only if it’s good.

You: It’s a saree. Pale yellow with blue embroidery.

Rafe: Does it have one of those drapey things?

You: Yes, Cameron. That’s literally what makes it a saree!!!

Rafe: Got it. Drapey thing = saree. Send me a picture.

You didn’t respond, setting your phone down and pretending to focus on your makeup.

“Your husband?” Aisha asked, noticing your sudden quiet.

“Future husband,” you corrected with a finger up. “And obviously.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants a picture.”

“Send him one. He’ll probably lose his mind. And let’s be real—you could use the ego boost.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Aisha wasn’t wrong. The way Rafe looked at you sometimes—or even texted you—had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the room.

The hairdresser finished with your slicked half-up half-down hairstyle. Aisha brought over the jewelry: delicate gold bangles, matching earrings, and a necklace that felt heavy against your collarbones.

“Perfect,” Aisha said, stepping back to admire the finished look.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The saree hugged you gracefully, the embroidery catching the light with every movement. The makeup brought a glow to your skin, and the hair framed your face perfectly. For the first time all day, you felt... good.

Before you could overthink it, you picked up your phone and snapped a quick selfie—just enough to show the saree and the soft smile playing on your lips.

You: Fine. Here.

The reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: ...You’re killing me here.

Your heart skipped a beat at the simplicity of the words.

Rafe: Thank you brown people for existing, and making you. Rafe: Truly humanity owes them. Rafe: Forget the engagement party. Let’s just elope.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head.

You: Not happening. See you tonight.

His response made your stomach flutter in the strangest way.

Rafe: Can’t wait to become your fiancé, sweetheart.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the venue, its soft hum fading into the gentle buzz of the world outside. Through the tinted windows, you could see flashes of light—camera shutters capturing every moment like hunters seeking prey. The glow spilling from the venue, golden and inviting, felt overwhelming, almost oppressive. It danced off the grand arches of the villa, the soft flicker of string lights crisscrossing the courtyard casting a magical glow on the scene.

For a moment, you sat frozen, your fingers clutching the delicate fabric of your saree. It was meant to represent happiness, a tie to your heritage that should have brought you pride. But tonight, it felt more like a shackle, reminding you of the pieces of yourself you’d lost along the way.

“You okay?” Aisha’s voice came softly from beside you, laced with the familiar tone of concern that only she could carry so effortlessly. She looked radiant in her pale pink dress.

“Yeah… I… I’m fine,” you replied, the lie clumsy on your tongue.

Aisha raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but deciding to let it slide. The car door opened, and she stepped out first, her head held high as though she didn’t care about anything—and knowing Aisha, she probably really didn’t care. When she turned to offer you her hand, her expression softened—a silent gesture of reassurance. You took it hesitantly, forcing your legs to carry you out of the car.

The cool evening air brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the heat in your chest. Cameras clicked relentlessly, their flashes a blinding assault as the whispers began to ripple through the crowd.

“She’s a bit late.”

“She looks beautiful.”

“Why didn’t Rafe escort her out?”

“What is she wearing?”

Each word clawed at you, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed image you wore like an armor. You kept your head down, focusing on the rhythmic click of your heels against the gravel path as you made your way toward the villa’s entrance. The towering structure loomed over you, its ivy-draped walls and ornate carvings reminiscent of a bygone era. The cascading floral arrangements, all in deep crimson and soft pink hues.

Everything added to the suffocating pressure weighing on your chest.

Inside, the air buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests began to fill the sprawling garden. Long tables stretched across the courtyard, their surfaces glimmering with candles and vases bursting with fresh blooms. Everything was picturesque, perfect. Yet, all you could feel was a rising sense of dread.

“I need a minute,” you whispered to Aisha, not waiting for her reply before walking rapidly inside the villa.

You navigated the winding hallways with purpose, your steps quick but unsteady. You needed to escape—to find a quiet corner where the world’s eyes couldn’t follow, where you could let the overwhelming storm inside you settle, even just for a moment. The getting-ready room—it was the perfect refuge, a place to breathe and gather yourself before you faced the crowd again.

But as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Rafe was there.

He leaned against the doorframe with an ease that felt infuriatingly effortless, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored white suit. The soft lighting played tricks with the lines of his face, his tousled hair looking as if it had been styled by the wind itself. The open collar of his shirt gave him an air of nonchalance that made him seem untouchable—except for the flicker of something warm in his eyes as he met your gaze.

“You planning to bolt already?” he teased, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His voice, low and smooth, carried the same blend of humor and arrogance that had always annoyed you.

You stopped, caught off guard. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Rafe pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step toward you. “Waiting for you,” he said, his gaze dragging deliberately over your saree. His smile deepened as his eyes met yours again. “You look beau—”

“Rafe, I can’t do this,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out before you could stop them.

The smile faded from his face, replaced by an expression of concern. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “The people, the cameras, the party—it’s all too much.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “You’ve done this a hundred times before,” he said softly. “What’s different now?”

You hesitated. “It’s not important,” you muttered, hoping he’d let it go.

But Rafe wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady but insistent. “Talk to me.”

You sighed, the lump in your throat growing heavier. “It’s stupid, okay? I’m just… I’m not used to this.”

“That’s not true.”

Your jaw tightened, and you looked away, your voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re not here.”

“Who?”

The question made you flinch, but you kept your response measured, your tone distant. “No one. It doesn’t matter.”

Rafe stepped closer, his presence grounding but not invasive. “It matters if it’s upsetting you.”

“It’s just… my family. We’re not close anymore, okay? And moments like this just remind me of that. But it’s fine. Whatever.”

His eyes softened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. The details of your fractured relationship with your parents, the abuse, the years of silence—it wasn’t something you wanted to unpack here, not with him. You hated being this exposed, hated feeling so small under the weight of it all.

Rafe’s expression shifted, the concern in his eyes deepening. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady but kind. “Look at me.”

“I can’t,” you shook your head, refusing. “You won’t understand.”

“Then help me,” he urged, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “Talk to me.”

The lump in your throat grew, the words threatening to choke you. “I left them,” you started. “But I had a reason. I couldn’t continue living there. We were poor, so poor, Rafe. Some days we were barely fed and barely had a roof over our heads,” your voice trembled, and you forced yourself to not close your eyes to not relieve that part of your life. “They forced me to se—” but you stopped yourself. Not ready to admit it to Rafe. “—whatever. I just don’t feel like I belong anywhere.”

His jaw tightened, his grip on your arm firming slightly. For a moment, he said nothing, his blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to piece together the fractures you’d worked so hard to hide. Then, quietly, he spoke.

“You belong here,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “With me. Tonight, this party, all of it—it’s for us. And I don’t care who’s not here, because I’m here, okay? You worked hard to get where you are, and you can’t let your past, or anyone, ruin it for you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of your doubt. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours with a warmth that steadied you.

You walked back toward the door, Rafe’s hand lightly resting against your back, guiding you through the villa. As you stepped into the bustling courtyard, the noise of the party hit you again—the sound of laughter, the clinking of glasses, the faint hum of music. It was impossible to escape the energy, the pressure of eyes watching.

You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself. Tonight wasn’t going to be easy, but you’d already survived the worst of it. With Rafe by your side, you could handle whatever came next.

The first person you spotted was Nina, her smile bright and easy as she chatted with a few guests by the drink station. She caught sight of you and waved, excusing herself from the conversation. Her dress—an elegant gold one—flattered her frame as she approached.

“You two disappeared for a while,” Nina said with a teasing glint in her eyes, though there was a hint of concern there, too. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, don’t worry. Everything’s perfect,” you waved your hands to not worry her. “By the way, Rafe, this is Nina Ramos—my agent and my second mother.”

He extended his hand with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “YN’s been telling me a lot about you.”

Liar.

Nina took his hand, her sharp eyes flicking between the two of you. “Has she now? All good I hope,” and you nodded instantly. “Well, this party is important and beautiful. Maybe all your overthinking served you well—you look absolutely perfect, honey. You too, Rafe.”

“Thanks,” you blushed at her compliment.

Rafe smirked. “She does look perfect, doesn’t she?”

You gave him a playful look, your lips curling into a reluctant smile at his compliment.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But it was great meeting you, Rafe Cameron.”

“Likewise,” he replied, and with one last smile, Nina disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as she was out of earshot, you turned to Rafe with a small smile. “She’s a good friend of mine,” you said softly. “You’ll like her.”

Rafe gave you a raised eyebrow. “She seems cool. I can see why you’re friends.”

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter caught your attention, and you spotted Aisha, her arm linked with a tall, broad-shouldered man. Her husband, Ishan—someone you hadn’t seen in a while. You had to blink to fully register the change in him, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable.

Without thinking, you broke into a smile and made your way toward them, Rafe following behind.

As soon as Aisha spotted you, her face lit up with recognition. “Look who decided to surprise you,” she smiled, her voice higher because of how excited she was.

You immediately wrapped your arms around her husband, stepping into a hug. He chuckled, holding you tightly as he returned the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” you said, squeezing him as he laughed.

Ishan was like an older brother to you. He’d been there through some of the toughest times in your life, and his easy going nature always managed to bring you a sense of peace. His deep laugh and the familiarity of his embrace were exactly what you needed.

“I’ve missed you too, behen,” he said. “I come back to New York and I’m being told you’re getting married to Rafe Cameron. Imagine my surprise when Aisha told me.”

You pulled back from the embrace and laughed awkwardly. “Ah, yes, Rafe… Surprise, surprise, right?”

Ishan furrowed his brows but you moved your hands. “I can’t really believe it… It’s really happening…”

“No, no! It’s not like—uh, well, okay, it is, but it’s like…” you turned your head to find Rafe behind Aisha making a cross with his hands. “I love it. He’s so, so, so funny and charming—and very committed, you know…”

“Uh huh, I see,” Ishan nodded and laughed at how weird you were being. “Can’t believe he’s gonna marry a loser like y—”

“So, you’re actually here. It’s been too long—how’s Switzerland?” you interrupted, and he sent you a look because he hated when you did that. “Sorry… but how is it? Did you climb every mountain and, like, yodel on top of a glacier?”

He chuckled a little and shook his head. “No, no yodelling, but I did eat tons of chocolate. I bought some for you too.” You did not even have time to reply to him that he extended a hand toward Rafe, his tone both warm and challenging. “So, you’re the infamous Rafe Cameron. My wife gave me a run-down on you. Some good things… and some questionable ones.”

"Your wife? Wait, who’s your wife?" Rafe asked, his confusion evident.

Oh, crap. You totally forgot to explain the whole family tree situation. Rookie mistake.

Aisha sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she raised her hand. "I’m the wife, genius. Seriously, YN—did you not tell him?"

"I’m sorry!" You blurted, cringing. "It completely slipped my mind. It’s just so normal to me that I didn’t even think to—"

Rafe interrupted you, and took Ishan’s hand in his. His smirk disarming but his handshake firm. “Well, I hope the good outweighed the questionable.”

“Debatable,” Ishan replied with a shrug. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… at least until you give me a reason not to.”

You felt a knot in your stomach as you glanced between the two. Ishan wasn’t being hostile, but his protectiveness had always been intense, like that of an older brother who wasn’t afraid to test the waters.

Rafe, to his credit, didn’t back down. His smirk deepened slightly, and he shrugged with an air of playful confidence. “Fair enough. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I’d hope so,” Ishan said lightly, though the undertone was clear. His gaze softened as it flicked toward you, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got a good one here. Don’t mess it up.”

“Trust me, I know how lucky I am,” Rafe replied, glancing at you with an expression so sincere it caught you off guard.

The words made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for, a warmth spreading through you despite the nervous energy still bubbling beneath the surface.

Aisha rolled her eyes, slapping her husband’s chest. “Alright, alright, that’s enough intimidation for one night. Let’s get some drinks, baby.”

Ishan laughed, ruffling Aisha’s hair affectionately before turning to you. “If he gives you any trouble, you know where to find me, behen.”

You grinned at the familiar term of endearment, feeling a wave of gratitude for his presence. “Yup!”

With a wink, they both disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Rafe standing together.

The second they were out of earshot, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “So, is everyone in your life this protective, or is it just me getting the special treatment?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “What can I say? People care about me. Better get used to it.”

“Noted,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll add it to the ever-growing list of things to keep in mind when dealing with your very... passionate circle of people.”

An awkward silence stretched between us as you scanned the guests arriving. You recognized a few—Aisha’s mom, aunts, and cousins, mingling with Nina’s friends and siblings. You couldn't help but wonder if your wedding would be filled with people who didn’t really know you either.

Rafe stepped closer, standing next to you, and flashed a playful grin. "So, Ishan… he’s your… older brother, right?" He asked, clearly trying to figure out the family dynamic.

You turned to him with a soft laugh, shaking my head. "No, not my brother," you said, before pausing for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Okay, let me explain." You drew in a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "Ishan’s more like the brother I never had—well, I do have brothers, but when I left home, I hadn’t really connected with them. But then I came to the U.S. and met Aisha, and Ishan just sort of stepped into that role. We’ve been through everything together—good, bad, you name it. He’s always had my back. No blood relation, but he might as well be."

Rafe’s expression softened as he absorbed that, nodding. “Sounds like he’s a pretty solid guy.”

“He really is,” you smiled, warmth creeping into your voice. “He and Aisha have always had my back, and they’ve been together for years now. They make a great team.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he said, grinning. “He’s got that same intimidating vibe as she does. You can practically feel it.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Exactly! Aisha and I used to joke about it. She always said, if I needed someone to scare off a date, I’d just call Ishan. Aisha’s got that sharp edge, and Ishan? He’s got the muscles.”

“I can definitely see that…” he said with a thoughtful nod before asking, “So, what kind of dynamic do you think we have?”

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze for a moment as the question hung in the air. “Uh, well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean, we’re… we’re like, uh, a work in progress? Yeah, that sounds right. Like one of those ‘under construction’ signs, you know? A little chaotic…?” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Chaotic? Really? You’re gonna call us chaotic?”

“Yeah, well, have you met you?” You shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re like a walking disaster zone.”

He laughed, leaning back. “Oh, I’m a disaster? You’re the one who keeps on throwing shade. For no reason at all.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to mind your own business,” you snapped, the words biting as you shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re the one getting all up in my space with your weird questions.”

“I’m not asking weird questions,” he shot back, his voice rising to match the sharpness of yours. “And do you seriously think we’re chaotic?”

You gave him a side-eye, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Chaotic is an understatement, Cameron. We’re a disaster—with a capital D.”

He laughed, the sound low and amused, as though he didn’t take you seriously. “Oh really? You’re one to talk. You practically live for the drama.”

“Me? I live for drama?” You scoffed, pivoting fully to face him now, hands planted firmly on your hips as you let your eyes travel up and down him in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. “You’re the definition of drama. You can’t even breathe without making everything about you.”

His lips curled into a grin, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way you refused to acknowledge. “You’re so easy to rile up.”

“You’re a jackass,” you muttered, shaking your head, every fiber of your being wanting to push him away—but not sure if you meant physically or emotionally.

He leaned in slightly, as if to throw another jibe your way, but instead, his eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think you’re just mad because I’m better at this than you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you closed the distance between you, but the move was more impulsive than you intended. You instantly regretted it, realizing just how close you were to him now, the heat from his body practically radiating against yours. You swallowed, trying to mask the effect it had on you. “Better at what? Being a complete asshole?” Your voice wavered with a sharpness that betrayed how much it bothered you. “Yeah, Rafe, you’re a pro at that.”

He leaned in even closer, and this time, his grin wasn’t just playful—it was dangerous. “You love it,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave, making your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you rolled your eyes, trying to keep control of the situation. “Oh, fuck off. The only thing I like is when you finally shut up.” You crossed your arms tighter, trying to distance yourself emotionally, but it was hard to ignore the proximity between you two, the tension hanging thick in the air.

He was close now, too close, and it was suffocating in the most unsettling way. His breath was warm against your skin, the space between you closing so much that you could almost taste the words on his lips before they even came.

“Is that so?” His voice was low, teasing, his grin widening as his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there just long enough to make you feel it.

You couldn’t help it—you gulped, the way he was looking at you making your pulse race, something deep inside you stirring against the cold front you were trying so hard to put up. “Yeah, that so,” you managed, but your voice had a tremor to it now, and you hated yourself for it.

He smiled, the kind of smile that could make you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “Well, in that case,” he said, the words dragging as he leaned even closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, “I’m just gonna keep talking.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream at him or kiss him.

You could feel his presence pressing in on you, the heat between you two almost unbearable, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The world outside of him seemed to vanish, the hum of the city, the weight of your thoughts, everything melting away until there was only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You knew you should pull away, should say something, anything, to break this tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

He watched you closely, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of something unreadable flickering there—something playful, something dangerous, maybe both.

“You look like you’re about to say something,” he said, his voice thick with amusement.

You opened your mouth, trying to push past the lump in your throat, but it felt like the words were stuck. Instead, you just looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in what felt like forever. He was close, too close, but in that moment, it felt impossible to back away. He made you feel things you didn’t want to feel, things that you didn’t understand.

“I don’t wanna say anything,” you muttered, the words slipping out as a mix of frustration and something you refused to acknowledge.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, that devilish smirk curling on his lips.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but you didn’t say a word. You simply nodded, lips pressed together in a thin line, trying to hold onto some semblance of control.

He closed the gap between you, leaning in with deliberate slowness. You could feel the heat of his body inching closer, the soft scent of his cologne filling your senses, until his lips barely brushed against your cheek. The kiss was featherlight, teasing—infuriatingly so. It was enough to make your stomach twist with desire, but you refused to let it show. You wanted to press your thighs together, to feel that familiar ache between your legs, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

“Well, I have something to say,” his voice was low, rich with satisfaction as he lingered just inches from your skin. “I think… You’re not as immune to me as you like to pretend.”

The words sent a jolt through your chest, but you shook your head, pulling your hands up to his chest, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, then gliding slowly to his neck, tracing the line of his jaw before resting at the back of it. You felt his pulse under your fingertips, and your breath hitched.

“I don’t… I don’t pretend,” you said, your voice quieter, but the frustration bubbling underneath was unmistakable. “You’re just an idiot,” you continued, pressing your palms harder into his skin. “And so fucking frustrating.”

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Look at you.” His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. “You’re getting all worked up. You want this, don’t you? I can see it. You’re practically begging me to fuck you right now with those eyes. Is that what you want, baby?”

Every nerve in your body screamed yes. You could feel your pulse racing, your skin burning as his words settled deep inside you. The ache between your legs was undeniable now, but your mind fought back. Your heart was pounding in your ears, screaming no. You couldn't let yourself fall for this again. You remembered the last time—the cold distance after everything had gotten too real, the way he’d pulled away, leaving you shattered. You couldn’t be left like that again.

But then, the look on his face—those sharp eyes, glimmering with something dangerous. He looked so good, so fucking good, in that white suit that fit him like a second skin. The way it molded to his chest, the tightness around his biceps, made your breath catch in your throat. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him, feel the strength of his muscles under your fingers, wanted to bite at his neck, press your lips to the smooth skin there and feel him shudder beneath you.

God, it was maddening. You hated how he made you feel so out of control, how every inch of him seemed to draw you in. Your body was betraying you, and you hated it.

But what about him? Did he feel the same pull? Did he burn for you the way you did for him, or was this just another game for him to play, another conquest to add to his long list? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

Rafe’s eyes never left you as you fought to suppress the desire stirring within you. But he knew it. He could see it in the way your breath hitched, in the way you couldn’t stop your hands from brushing against him, testing the limits, even as you pretended to resist.

But something shifted in him. He straightened, his posture changing, the smug grin slipping ever so slightly as his gaze flickered to the entrance of the party.

It wasn’t just any glance—it was sharp, instinctive. He’d caught sight of someone familiar, someone whose presence immediately shifted the air in the room.

You followed his line of sight, your chest tightening as you noticed who it was: The Cameron family. Sarah, Wheezie, Rose, and Ward. Their arrival had a different weight, one that Rafe clearly felt deep in his bones. You saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened for just a moment, before he quickly masked it with a flash of that signature cocky smile.

Ward, tall and imposing in his crisp suit, moved with the sort of authority that always seemed to follow him. Rose, on his arm, was more subdued but equally elegant, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the crowd, clearly scanning for something or someone. Their eyes met Rafe’s across the room, and the tension in his body was palpable.

His hand, which had been resting lightly at your waist, now tightened, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress in a way that made you wonder if he even noticed. But you noticed him. You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he suddenly seemed aware of every movement, every gesture, every word spoken around him.

He cleared his throat, stepping back slightly from you, though his body remained rigid, still keeping you close. “I think my parents just walked in,” he said quietly, as though speaking more to himself than to you, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable.

You looked at him, the reality of the situation settling in. His family—his father, especially—was here, and suddenly everything felt different. The air seemed heavier. The playful banter between you both had shifted into something more guarded, more calculated.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you whispered.

Rafe took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving his parents as they moved further into the room, exchanging greetings with guests. He didn’t speak immediately, as if preparing himself for whatever role he was about to play in front of them. His jaw clenched again, but he quickly forced a smile back onto his face, turning to you.

“Let’s go say hello, yeah?” His voice was smoother now, though you could still sense the unease beneath the surface. It was almost like he was pulling back, retreating into the version of himself he showed them—controlled, perfect, everything his father demanded of him. “Is that okay with you?”

No.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his tension on your shoulders, but you followed him. The closer you got to his family, the more you could feel the pressure build. Rafe's movements were more deliberate now, like he was preparing to play his part in the family drama. You couldn’t help but notice how differently he held himself around them—like a man who knew he would never measure up, no matter how much he tried.

Rafe paused just before reaching them, throwing you a look that was both apologetic and protective. It was as if, for just a moment, he needed you to understand how much this moment mattered. But you weren’t sure if it was about impressing them or surviving the encounter with his family’s expectations. Whatever it was, you could feel it thick in the air, something unspoken but undeniable.

Rafe’s steps slowed as you reached his father, Ward. He was a towering figure, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his presence seemingly taking over the entire space. Rose, his stepmother, stood slightly behind him, elegant and poised, her eyes a sharp contrast to Ward’s cool and calculating demeanor.

Rafe stopped just short of them, his hand still on your waist, but his stance had subtly shifted—he was guarded, unsure, like he was ready to retreat if the need arose.

“Dad,” Rafe greeted, his voice smooth but lacking its usual confidence. His posture was just a little too stiff, as if waiting for the inevitable judgment that would come with every interaction.

Ward's gaze lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than normal before he acknowledged him, his tone clipped. “Rafe,” he said, the smile on his face barely noticeable, more a polite curve of the lips than anything genuine. “You’re looking well.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t carry any warmth. It was a statement of fact rather than praise, and it made your skin prickle. You could feel Rafe tense beside you, his fingers tightening just a little, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he gave a small, practiced smile and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

You remained silent for a moment, unsure of where to fit in, but Sarah, ever the warm presence, was the first to step forward. She flashed you a grin, her eyes already lighting up with recognition. “Hey, YN!” she said enthusiastically, her voice a welcome contrast to the tension in the air. "So good to see you again!"

"Hi, Sarah," you responded, your smile easing a little, feeling comforted by her energy. "It’s good to see you too."

She pulled you into a friendly hug, and you found yourself relaxing into it. Sarah had this easygoing charm about her, a lightness that made you forget the weight of the room for a moment. She was everything Rafe wasn’t—effortlessly kind, bubbly, and generous with her affection.

“Wheezie and I were just talking about you,” Sarah added, and you turned to find a petite, younger girl standing a few feet away.

Wheezie’s face lit up when she caught your gaze. “Hi. I’m Wheezie. It’s cool to meet you.”

You smiled at her. “Hi, Wheezie. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly nervous. “You’re a model, right? That’s so cool. I’ve seen your pictures in Vogue!”

You blinked in surprise, warmth spreading in your chest. “You have?”

“Yeah!” Wheezie nodded enthusiastically. “You’re so pretty, and your outfits are amazing. How did you even start doing that?”

Her genuine curiosity was disarming, and for a moment, you forgot the tension hanging in the air. You leaned slightly closer, your smile becoming more natural. “It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you sometime if you want.”

Wheezie’s face lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome.”

Rafe, who had been watching the interaction silently, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with amusement. “Wheezie, you’re gonna scare her off.”

Wheezie flushed, but she grinned up at her brother. “I’m just being friendly.”

“She’s fine,” you said quickly, shooting Wheezie a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to meet someone who’s actually interested in what I do.”

Rose cleared her throat, interrupting the light moment. “Oh, we’re interested in you, dear,” she said, her tone honeyed but with an edge of condescension. “Rafe’s been so secretive about you, it’s about time we got to know you better.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized with a polite smile. “I’m here now, though.”

“Yes, you are,” Ward interjected, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Rafe mentioned your career. It must be… demanding.”

You nodded carefully. “It can be, but I enjoy it. I’ve worked hard to get where I am.”

Ward tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “And maintaining that image must be just as hard. I imagine you have to watch every calorie to stay in shape for your work. Must be exhausting.”

The words hit you like a sharp slap, your chest tightening as old insecurities clawed their way to the surface. You forced a neutral smile, but your nails dug into the palm of your hand to keep steady. “It’s part of the job,” you replied carefully, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.

Rose waved a dismissive hand, her eyes flitting over you in a way that felt equally invasive. “Don’t listen to him, honey. You look perfectly healthy to me. Honestly, I’d kill to have your body.”

Her words were meant as a compliment, but they were worse than his. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice quieter now.

Rafe stiffened beside you, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his tone firm, a warning laced beneath the words.

But Ward ignored him, his attention still on you. “We’re not saying anything wrong. She does look healthy… in a sickly way.” His smile was thin, and though the words were spoken lightly, there was an edge to them.

You forced another smile, but your composure was slipping. The weight of their attention, the veiled comments, the subtle dissection of your body—it was too much.

“I’m sorry,” you said abruptly, stepping back slightly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

The moment you stepped into the bathroom, the world outside seemed to dissolve. The faint hum of voices from the gathering became muffled as you locked the door and leaned against it, your chest heaving. You clutched your stomach, the ache inside more emotional than physical, as Ward’s and Rose’s comments echoed in your mind.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back, unkind and unforgiving. You pressed your trembling hands against the sink, breathing shallowly as the familiar sensation of panic crept up your throat.

No matter how far you thought you’d come, it was always there — lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. Your stomach churned violently, the pressure too much. You barely made it to the toilet before the wave overtook you.

Kneeling on the cold tile, you hated yourself for this relapse. Your body trembled as tears stung your eyes, the shame wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. You knew better. Yet here you were, undone by a handful of careless words.

The door suddenly creaked open. Panic seized you as you tried to compose yourself, but it was too late.

“YN?” Rafe’s voice was low and tentative, laced with worry. He must’ve picked the lock.

You froze, your back to him, trying to will him away. “Go away, Rafe.”

He didn’t. Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.

You heard the scuff of his shoes as he approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Just leave me alone.”

But then he was kneeling beside you, his presence warm and steady despite the storm raging inside you. His hand gently touched your back, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m here,” he said simply, his tone quiet but firm. He reached out, gathering your hair and pulling it away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me help.”

The knot in your throat tightened, and a sob escaped before you could stop it. You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head. “I’m so pathetic,” you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I promised myself I’d never do this again. I’ve tried so hard to move on, to be better. But it’s always there. It’s always waiting for me to fail.”

He paused, his hand stilling for a moment before he spoke. “You’re not failing,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re human. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still standing. That’s not failing, YN. That’s surviving.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you finally turned to look at him. His blue eyes were fixed on you, full of a mix of anger and concern—not at you, but for you. He reached up, brushing a tear from your cheek with a gentleness that nearly broke you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You hesitated, your walls instinctively rising. But something about the way he looked at you—without judgment, without pity—made you feel safe enough to let them down.

“It’s… it’s complicated,” you began, your voice shaky. “I’ve struggled with this for a long time. Since I was a teenager. Modeling didn’t cause it, but it made it worse. Everyone always has something to say about my body—it’s too thin, it’s too big, it’s never enough.” you swallowed hard, your throat burning. “And tonight… your dad, Rose… they just hit a nerve.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and you could see the anger flickering in his eyes. But he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I was past it,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But it never really goes away. It just… quiets down. Until something like this happens.”

Rafe nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I get it,” he said, surprising you. “Not in the same way, but I get it. The pressure, the expectations. Feeling like no matter what you do, it’s never enough.”

You stared at him, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry for that,” you whispered, fresh tears spilling over. “And for what you saw.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rafe said firmly, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and the sobs came harder now, wracking your body. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

After what felt like an eternity, your tears began to subside. You pulled back slightly, embarrassed by the mess you’d made of his shirt. “Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your face.

Rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. This shirt was ugly anyway.”

The small attempt at humor made you smile, even if it was faint. He stood, helping you to your feet, his hand steadying you as you wavered.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze searching for yours.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure. “I just… need a minute. Is that okay?”

Rafe hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave you alone. But after a moment, he nodded. “Alright… Take all the time you need. I’ll be right outside.”

As he stepped toward the door, you felt a pang of guilt. “Rafe?”

He turned back, his expression softening.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “For… this.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the murmur of conversation like a knife. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Rafe—” Ward started, but his son didn’t let him finish.

“No, you listen to me,” he snapped, his anger palpable. “If you ever talk to her like that, we’re done. I mean it.”

Your heart stopped, and you moved closer, careful to stay out of sight.

“Rafe, calm down,” Rose’s voice said, her tone exasperated.

“No,” Rafe snapped. “I’m not calming down. Do you have any idea what you just did? What your comments did to her?”

There was a beat of silence before Ward spoke, his tone dismissive. “It was just a harmless observation. She’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

“Harmless?” Rafe’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “You don’t know the first thing about her, and you sure as hell don’t get to say shit like that to her ever again.”

“Rafe—”

“No,” he cut Ward off, his voice firm and unyielding. “You don’t get to do this. Not to her. If you can’t show her some respect for once in your life, then don’t bother talking to her at all.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising as you listened to him defend you with such ferocity. For all his cocky bravado and sarcastic quips, Rafe had just shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected.

A side that cared.

A side that would fight for you.

You stepped back, went back to the bathroom, giving him space to finish the conversation. But as you stood there, a small, genuine smile broke across your face.

When Rafe returned to the bathroom, his shoulders were tense, but his eyes softened when they landed on you. “Hey,” he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry if I took too long,” he said, sitting beside you on the floor. “I had to take care of some—.”

“I heard you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me?” his brows furrowed. “Heard what?”

“What you said. To them. Ward and Rose.”

“Oh…” his eyes widened. “I’m sorry if you think I stepped a line. It just really pissed me off what they said about you and thought that if you were going to see them again, they should know their li—”

“You don’t need to apologize, Cameron,” you interrupted, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips, the sound easing the tension in his shoulders. “Thank you, though…”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the room fell away. “Of course.”

He stood and extended a hand to you, palm open and steady. You hesitated for the briefest moment, not because you didn’t want to take it but because the gesture felt like more than it was. When your hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around yours.

You stood, brushing invisible creases from your saree and adjusting the edges with nervous precision. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, watching the delicate way your fingers moved, the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders as you steadied yourself.

When you glanced up at him, offering a soft, grateful smile, something in his chest tightened, and he knew he was done for.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you said, your voice stronger now.

He nodded, but as you turned toward the door, he couldn’t stop himself from saying it, even if you wouldn’t hear it. “You’re worth it,” he whispered, the words low and raw, like they’d been pulled straight from his heart.

He stood there, hand still tingling from where yours had been, a storm of emotions churning inside him. His mind raced, his heart pounded, and every inch of him felt consumed by something he wasn’t ready to name.

chapter eleven.

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padfootagain · 1 day ago

Text

Love in Verses (XXXI)

Chapter 31 : ‘Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is The Party… chapters 31 and 32 are twin chapters, the party will be told from both perspectives, this one from Andrew’s and the next one from MC’s. Just so you know…

This is one of the first scenes I’ve written when I began working on this project, so I’m quite fond of it even if it makes me cry…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3678

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

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, Andrew was certain of it.

He had hoped it wouldn’t, that seeing you flirt with another man would leave Frank unbothered, ignoring you completely. It was a little cruel, maybe, because it meant that you would be sad, that you would be hurt by his reaction. But as he stared at you letting a man trace a line up your arm… your bare arm…

Andrew looked away, feeling sick, feeling like his world was crushing down around him. Collapsing. It was like… like being dumped by Samantha all over again…

He downed his whiskey, letting the burn of the liquor ground him to the present once more, but the relief was temporary, and soon enough, he was looking up at you again and you were leaning to whisper something in that stranger’s ear.

He turned around this time, unable to stomach the sight of him resting a hand on your waist.

The plan was simple. You were to make Frank jealous, by wearing that divine dress you had bought with Andrew, by flirting with another man. Andrew had thought about playing that role, being the man you would flirt with, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t have survived the cruelty of that situation, of you faking to be interested in him that way. Not when he loved you so ardently. And so, he was merely keeping an eye on you now, staying close to one of the tables where whiskey was being poured generously, avoiding to talk to anyone at this gigantic party, checking that you were safe, while you let another man flirt with you and touch your waist…

He downed another glass…

“You’re alright, Andy?”

He turned to his left, following the voice that now called him. Samantha, of all people… brilliant.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” he answered, shifting awkwardly.

“Thanks for coming today. I’m glad we can still be friends despite all of this. I know that it must be… peculiar sometimes, but… Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me for that.”

She placed a hand on his forearm, and once, not so long ago, it would have made his heart grow warm. Now, he felt nothing. It felt like they had happened a lifetime ago, the days when he loved her.

He thought of you, behind him, and he tried not to picture you kissing that stranger, because then he…

He poured himself another whiskey, downed it again.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, raising up an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you drinking so much since college!”

“Well, we’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

He looked at her once more. Her and her dark hair, and her beautiful eyes, and the lips he thought he would spend the rest of his life kissing. How strange… now she let another man kiss them, and he wanted to kiss someone else… Their mouths didn’t belong together anymore. And Andrew then realised that he was okay with that. He wasn’t okay with how it had all happened, how it was still happening… but he couldn’t picture himself loving her again. He was looking at her, beautiful and perfect on paper… and all he could think of was you.

The music was loud, they had to raise their voices to be heard over the shallow beats. The chatter of the room Sam and Frank had rented for the special occasion was almost deafening. Andrew’s head was spinning a little, the alcohol kicking in. He still wanted another drink…

“Do you… do you hate me?”

He frowned, surprised by her question, by how direct it was too. She was a pro at circling an issue.

He thought for a moment, didn’t find an obvious answer.

When he thought of hate, he thought of that man with his hand on your body. He thought of Frank and the way he still made your heart bleed…

“Why are you asking this?” he asked back instead of answering.

“Because I… I know that the way we ended things was… messy. But I don’t want you to hate me. I… I still care about you, Andy, even if…”

“Even if you don’t love me anymore.”

It was becoming a little hard to remain standing, his world was spinning.

Were you still there with that guy? Would you… would you let him kiss you the way you had let Andrew do it in your office? God… would you be the one kissing him, the way you had kissed Andrew that night in your flat?

Samantha blinked, Andrew was puzzled as he noticed tears in her eyes.

“I think… a part of me is always going to love you, Andy.”

His eyes grew round in surprise. Was it working? Was their stupid, idiotic, foolish plan working? This was ridiculous…

… would you go back to loving Frank? Frank was a fucking dickhead…

“Do you ever wonder what could have been our lives if we had remained together?”

I wouldn’t have loved Y/N the way I do now…

And yet a couple of seconds later, he was changing his thought.

I would have fallen for her still… despite loving you…

“I used to,” he answered truthfully, stopping his answer before it would hurt her, but she insisted.

“And now?”

He was too drunk to lie. And if he were to be fully honest, he didn’t mind being rough, hurting her a little. He hated himself for the selfishness of it, but he answered earnestly anyway.

“Not anymore, no.”

“Really?”

“I… I don’t think of you like that anymore. I’ve moved on.”

She raised an eyebrow, but seemed unimpressed.

“Have you? So quickly?”

He shifted, uncomfortable. And he didn’t like being bitter, being too honest and being hurtful because of it, but… but you were flirting with another man, and Andrew was drinking too much tonight… And you were wearing that green dress, the one you had bought together, and he could picture you now, and he didn’t want Frank to see you in it and regret you, because he didn’t deserve it and… and you had bought that fucking dress for Frank… for Frank…

“I don’t love you anymore,” he said plainly, the flatness of his tone hurtful by itself. “Like I… I’m not in love with you. I… I want someone else.”

“Someone else?” she asked, and her voice was annoyed but he noticed the glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eyes.

She was hurt. But then again, she had been the one shattering his heart and his self-esteem, and his world, and the confidence he had taken so long to build…

He went on anyway.

“Yeah… I… we’re not dating or anything. But I… I like her. A lot.”

“Have you asked her out?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think she’d be interested. That’s okay. I don’t mind.”

No, he didn’t mind that you didn’t feel the same. You were a little too good for him anyway. Out of his league. You ought to deserve better…

“Now, that’s just your head saying dumb things,” she said, and even if her tone wasn’t kind, her words were reassuring.

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Andy… when are you going to understand that… You do deserve to be happy? That you are worthy of happiness too, huh?”

His next comment was unnecessary, but it felt good to tell the truth anyway.

“I had grown better at that while we were together. You breaking up with me to run off with someone else kind of destroyed that progress…”

He stopped resisting the urge to drink, reached for another whiskey, downed it in one gulp.

“I’m sorry, Andy. But we… weren’t right for each other.”

He wanted to argue, for the sake of it, to contradict her, but he was honest instead.

“I have to agree with that.”

He looked in your direction again, just a quick glance, just to check that you were alright. Frank was staring at you from afar too. That guy was leaning closer now, although you didn’t seem so willing to play along anymore. Andrew’s heart quickened, and soon it was pounding…

“Andy?”

“Hmm?” he asked back without looking at Samantha.

A sign… just one sign from you and he would come and make sure that guy would stand back…

Frank seemed to have read your body language as well, the bastard… he was walking over to you. Andrew closed his fists tightly, refraining from crossing the distance between you and him, from pushing that guy away, from telling Frank to fucking leave you alone because, Christ, you deserved so much better than him…

“Are you listening to me?”

Andrew almost jumped as Sam touched his arm again…

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, yeah… sorry, I was… lost in thought…”

“I was saying that I’m glad you and Y/N seem to get along. As you’re working together. I was worried when I learned she was Frank’s ex that it would make things awkward at your workplace.”

“We’re fine.”

I’ve fallen in love with her when I didn’t even think I was capable of loving anyone else after you…

“She seems nice,” she added, but her voice was weirdly flat.

“She is,” Andrew nodded, his heart fluttering as he talked of you. “She’s… she’s grand. She’s really nice, and… she’s a laugh, like… and very smart too.”

“Sounds like a catch.”

He didn’t answer, she didn’t seem to notice.

She was staring at you now too, while Frank had reached you and that stranger. He was talking with the guy, seemingly ignoring you, and even from afar Andrew could see that you were disappointed. The son of a bitch. He was pushing that guy away, without acknowledging you, he was making you feel terrible about yourself, Andrew could tell, and…

“I wonder what Frank saw in her.”

Andrew pondered on her question, and… God, he had so many things he saw in you. Your kindness, your wits, your passion for your work, your sense of humour, your smile, your eyes, the curve of your eyelashes, how fucking smart you were, your warmth, your voice, your way to scrunch up your nose a little when you were thinking, your anger, your talent, your…

… you, just… you…

But Frank? Did he see all that?

How could he have seen all of that, and still leave you?

The guy you had been talking to left, his drink in hand and a polite smile on his lips. Frank turned to you, got a conversation started. And Andrew wished he was right when he thought he could read in your expression that you were forcing yourself to look happy with his attention. Andrew didn’t believe in God, but he prayed still, silently, for you to see that Frank was not good enough for you, for you to long for his company instead… Christ, he hoped he was right when he read in the way you leaned away from Frank that you had changed your mind, that you didn’t want him to touch you the way he had just held your arm…

“Anyway, who’s the lucky woman you’ve spotted then? Do I know her?”

Andrew looked at Samantha, but he couldn’t hide the annoyance in his voice as he answered.

“I don’t really want to talk about that with you, honestly.”

“Right…”

Frank was taking a step closer to you, his hand inching for your waist…

Andrew was never one to pick up a fight, but he wanted to punch your ex in the face so bad…

“I feel a lot of resentment today, Andy…” Samantha said, trying to dissect his brain, the way she used to when they were together, but Andrew was not in the mood. “Did something happen?”

He let out a long exhale through his nose, refused to answer.

“You said you were ready to put all that happened behind us.”

He was about to argue, but he couldn’t. She was right. What a fucking fool he had been… to think that he should still want her after she broke what they had spent years building, for some random guy she had met a few weeks before. And then she was inviting him to her wedding, and he was there running back right into her arms? She was marrying Frank after knowing him for mere months when she had claimed not to be ready for marriage with Andrew when they had spent seven years together? She had not even agreed to move in with him… It seemed to hit him then, how much of a fool he had been, and the little self-esteem he had left finally took over to show him that he deserved better than to be treated like that. Anyone would deserve better. He was being an absolute fool. And you were too, you and your broken heart and he couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t pretend that all this was alright, that he didn’t want to kiss you…

He had one last question to ask, one last thought that was holding him back, one last answer he was too afraid to receive. He finally asked it.

“Frank left Y/N two weeks before you left me,” he started, the coldness of his tone unusual for him. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”

Samantha blinked.

“Why are you asking me this?” she asked back, but Andrew didn’t back down, his hazel eyes turned into steel.

“Answer me. Did you sleep with Frank before you left me?”

She remained silent, and he knew what it meant.

He thought he would be hurt, and he was, but the main emotion that came rising in his chest, made his blood boil, blinded him for a moment, was hate. Rage and hate. A lethal combo…

He huffed, shook his head.

“I left right after, and it wasn’t planned… it happened once, and then I left, and it didn’t last… it’s not like I was having an affair.”

“Shut it!” Andrew hissed. “Just… shut up for once!”

Her eyes grew round. It was so unlike Andrew to use such a mean tone…

“Andy…”

“I can’t believe you did something like this to me…”

“You’re not perfect either, Andrew, don’t pretend…”

“Don’t pretend what?! That I was always faithful to you? That I loved you? That I wanted to spend my life with you when you dumped me for a guy you barely knew?!”

“And why do you think I did that?” she answered, with venom in her words, and Andrew hated himself for falling for it. He knew she was being mean, that he shouldn’t have believed her, but he was the one always doubting his own worth, he couldn’t help it… “I’m sorry, Andrew, but you weren’t perfect either. And the truth is, I wasn’t happy enough with you.”

The word enough echoed in his head, out of context, he applied it to himself. He could feel his brain starting to spiral… but he forced his gaze to remain on Samantha. His thoughts had turned to you, and he had to check…

“Did Frank cheat on Y/N too?”

“What does it matter to you…?”

“Just. Answer. The. Damn. Question,” he hissed through gritted teeth, struggling not to shout it instead.

She heaved a sigh, but answered still.

“No… no, he didn’t. The first time anything happened between us was three days before we two broke up. And Frank had already ended things with Y/N to be with me.”

Andrew heaved a sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair, and Samantha frowned at his reaction.

“What does it matter to you?” she snapped.

“It matters to me that I’m glad her partner didn’t do this to her,” he replied, grabbing another drink.

“If you’re so angry at me, what are you doing here?”

Andrew bit the inside of his cheek to refrain his earnest answer.

Because Y/N needs me here.

“Honestly, I have no fucking clue…”

He downed yet another glass, walked away before Samantha could answer anything, and he headed towards the exit, fleeing the reception. He caught your eyes as he was passing not too far from you, refrained his urge to reach for you and hold you close, but his expression made you frown.

The cold air hit his cheeks, he realised he hadn’t picked up his jacket. The alcohol was getting to his head, the inky sky filled with stars was spinning above his head. He spotted an area with a few trees and a corner covered with grass. He aimed his feet in that direction, unstable, struggling to stay upright.

And you were still in there, with Frank, why fucking Frank, why him, why couldn’t you want…

“Andy?”

He turned around at the sound of your voice, almost falling in the process.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer, extending a hand to steady him if he needed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied.

“Are you drunk?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

But the image of Frank leaning closer, reaching for your waist flashed before his eyes. He clenched his jaw, opening and closing his fists repeatedly, not knowing what to do now with his own body, with his too-long limbs, with the knowledge that you too wanted Frank and not him. And Andrew hated that guy for taking everything he wanted away. For making Samantha leave him. For taking the life he thought he was going to build with her. But most importantly, for taking you away, even now… Andrew hated your ex for hurting you, for breaking your heart, and for being unable to let you go, for dragging you along with him, for keeping you dependent when he had someone else, and of course… of bloody course, Andrew had to fall for you, when you loved Frank.

What could you see in a guy like him? What did Andrew lack that made you unable to choose him instead of Frank?

He sat down in the grass, his brain swarming with thoughts that made him as dizzy as the liquor did.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

You sat down beside him.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring. Andrew wanted to cry at the sound, to hide in your arms and let it all out… his rage against Samantha, his jealousy against Frank, his love for you…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” was his answer instead of yielding to his own wants and lean closer.

“You didn’t seem well.”

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

He saw you clenching your jaw, even if there wasn’t much light around the venue. The parking lot was close by, with a few lampposts there. The moon was high and bright though, and through the windows of the venue behind the two of you, light was pouring into the night. It made for a dim lighting, but just enough for him to distinguish your features.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

That fucking asshole… Andrew was certain Frank had hurt you somehow, said something wrong…

“I saw you talking with Samantha… what did she say?” you asked, changing subject and aiming straight for the sensitive one without knowing.

It was Andrew’s turn to clench his jaw. He didn’t say anything.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged, but you insisted, and he ended up yielding.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, and there was wrath shining in them too.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, wanting to alleviate your pain and worry, but your expression didn’t change. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away.

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime for good?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice, revealing of some kind of ache.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

He froze when you leaned closed, rested your head on his shoulder. He reached out without thinking, the alcohol making him bolder than he usually was, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in a tight hug. You remained like this for a couple of minutes, or perhaps a little longer than that, Andrew wasn’t sure. He was too drunk to notice the passing of time, he felt too warm holding you in his arms…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And he wanted to tell you that he loved you, that he had for some time now. That he didn’t want Samantha anymore, only you. That he dreamt of you in his bedsheets, dreamt of what you would look like under him, dreamt of kissing your eyelashes. That he wanted to hold your hand, that he looked at you sometimes when you worked, in your shared office, because he just couldn’t help it. That you were beautiful, that he thought about you all the time, that he couldn’t eat at the thought of spending a moment with you. That he wanted to kiss you now, and forget about your exes, and take you on a nice date, whatever you would like.

He wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier fic #hozier au #hozier professor au #hozier series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #professor au

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vrystalius · 1 day ago

Note

hi! Ive been reading ur fics for a while and i love them sm and hope ur enjoying ur break!

I was wondering if u could write about giyuu apologizing after an arguement?

once again i absolutely love ur fics lol 💗

Apologies

Giyuu apologising after an argument— how does he do it?

Pairing: married!Giyuu x gn!married!reader

“Why can’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m the only one trying here!”

You immediately regretted those words the second they left your mouth. Washing out your mouth with soap won’t wash that expression of your husband from your face, him staring at you in both disbelief and deep guilt. Giyuu knows that he can come off as cold or even uncaring, even to you. It’s never intentional but rather a terrible habit he seemingly can’t get rid off and it keeps forcing him to push people away from him. That’s why it may seem he doesn’t try hard enough to express his thoughts, his feelings.

Despite knowing that you will be understanding and listen to his worries, hold him while you kiss his face until he finally smiles again, all those fears and thoughts that dwell on horrific events he experiences on a daily gone in mere seconds.

So, who should apologise first? Giyuu, or you?

Since your husband left your house after the argument, probably wanting to take a walk or get some fresh air, you had time to think about what to do to apologise to him. Directly talking to him might scare him off and result into him being too intimidated to answer or scurry off to hide somewhere else to avoid you altogether. A letter could work, right?

Composing and thinking about every word, every sentence helped you sort your thoughts out and properly speak about the argument from your perspective while also staying respectful to his own view of the issues. You just hoped that your crow was awake to deliver a letter to your husband. If not, you’ll leave it in your bedroom for your husband to find and read quietly while you waited on him somewhere else.

But before you could prepare a method for Giyuu receiving your letter, Kanzaburo, your husband’s elderly crow, weakly called out to you and ruffled his feathers while resting on your windowsill. A letter was secured around his neck. Gently, you took the bird and put it to rest on your lap, giving him well-deserved scratches while gently unravelling the letter from his neck. It was written by Giyuu, obviously, but before you could read, the door to the room opened and your husband stood in the doorframe, staring down at you in surprise. He eyed you, then the letter in your hands.

“Have you.. read it?”

“No, Kanzaburo just delivered it.”

“Ah.”

You could see the gears shifting inside his mind. He probably overestimated the senior crow and thought the letter would be delivered faster. You scratched the crows head and glanced back to the paper in your hand.

“Should I read it? Or do you want to say everything you wrote down to me personally?”

Giyuu silently averted his eyes, his shoulders sagging and a small frown spreading on his face. He was avoiding to look into your eyes.

“No. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

You watched your husband slowly close the door, leaving you alone with his elder companion. While the crow was contently preparing to nap on your lap, you opened the letter.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

My dearest,

I am sorry. I know I’ve caused arguments again and again because of my silence and my behaviour over all. You feel like you’re the only one trying in this relationship and I’m sorry for that. I thought that if I stayed silent it would be easier for the both of us but that is clearly not the case. I should’ve realised much sooner, but instead I am only doing it now.

I am just too scared to scare you off with my problems and issues since you have your own, just like everyone else does. You are important to me so you always are my priority. My thoughts and feelings can wait, so I stay quiet.

You deserve better than the way I am treating you, you deserve so, so much better. You’ve been patient with me, you stayed with me for so long, through good and bad times. I don’t deserve your love.

I want to do better and I will. Please have a little more patience with me. Please.

I love you, I am sorry that I haven’t said it enough times. I am sorry if you don’t believe me.

Yours forever,

Tomioka Giyuu.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳༚

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! I’ve been seeing you interact with my posts pretty often so thank you for all your love and support <33 I’ll happily write more requests for you in the future if you liked this one!

Also, I haven’t forgot about Kyojuro’s thighs request :,) I started writing it and it’s halfway finished— my NSFW meter just ran out and I started writing this instead XD

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

Take care of yourselves, physically and mentally <3

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smashing-teacups · 2 days ago

Text

Wee Preview: A Breath of Snow and Christmas Chapter 3

A/N: I mean... it's been a hot minute since I'd written a proper sex scene for these two, so I thought maybe I'd ease into it, you know, keep it on the Mature side, not Explicit...

*snort laugh* Yeah, have you met Jamie and Claire? That lasted about fifteen seconds.

Look for this chapter to drop mid-December!

---------

A loud, trilling notification from Claire’s phone made us both startle back with a jolt, each turning in opposite directions to laugh. Cheeks flaming, I wet my lips and scrubbed a hand over my face as she looked down at the message that had broken the moment.

“No Drivers Available,” she read aloud in an irritated monotone. “We’re very sorry, but no drivers were available for your scheduled ride. Please try requesting another car.”

“Ah.”

“Let me try Lyft—” she said at the same moment I offered, “You could just stay here—”

Her eyes snapped up to mine.

Swallowing thickly, I amended, “I can sleep on the couch, of course. I dinna mind at all.”

Something shifted in her irises as I watched. Little by little, the black of her pupils began to bleed outward into pools of molten gold. I could only stare, transfixed, as desire smoldered in her gaze; as my body responded in kind, aching and stretching and throbbing in my cock, searing my lungs until I could scarcely breathe.

“What if I mind?” she whispered as her eyes drifted to the open button on my shirt. Her fingertips lifted to brush the skin bared there, her pinky just skimming the edge of the button beneath. The touch was a question, plain as the one she’d spoken aloud.

This time, there was no hesitation before I crushed her against me and kissed her mouth open like a man starved.

Every inch of Claire Beauchamp was meant to be worshipped: the long white column of her neck, the down-soft earlobes, the dimple in her chin, the curve of jaw and collarbone and sternum and God, God, her breasts…

I couldn’t devour her fast enough.

Whenever I’d fantasized about our first time together, I’d always pictured a slow, deliberate exploration of her body, taking the opportunity to savor every inch of her. Never in my wildest dreams had I pictured her as fevered like this, frantic — scrambling to get my clothes off, gripping the roots of my hair, her tongue dueling hot and urgent with mine.

Claire didn’t have any interest in me being gentle with her.

#A Breath of Snow and Christmas #Outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #wee preview #smashingteacups

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winchesterwild78 · 13 hours ago

Text

Thankful for You

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester X Reader (wife), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Cass, Jack

Warnings: Just a little holiday fluff.

A/N: Just a short story about Thanksgiving Day in the bunker. The reader and Dean are newly married and she wants their first Thanksgiving as a married couple to be perfect.

I picked Dean instead of Jensen or any of his other characters, because Dean was the one who wouldn’t know what a traditional Thanksgiving would look like.

Does not follow the Supernatural story line. Used characters from the show, but all work is my own. I do not own the rights to these characters.

Please don’t take my work. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.

Written fast and not edited, please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

I woke up early, Dean’s arm laying loosely over my body. I slipped out of bed to our shared bathroom and took a quick shower. I needed to get the turkey on so it could be ready before everyone came over.

Dean and I had been married about 6 months and this was our first real Thanksgiving. Since he grew up in the hunting life, Thanksgiving wasn’t something he celebrated. I on the other hand always had the traditional Thanksgiving with all the food, football and family you could handle.

I had bought a turkey, ham, rolls, yams, potatoes, green beans, stuffing, and of course pie. I knew I wouldn’t have time to bake all the pies, so I bought a few, but wanted to make Dean a cherry pie from scratch.

I was thankful we had multiple ovens in the bunker, otherwise there was no way I could pull off roasting a turkey, making a ham and the pie in one day.

After my shower I went into the kitchen and prepared the turkey. Once it was in the oven I started on the pie and ham. By the time Dean got up I was washing and peeling potatoes.

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. His arms were crossed over his firm chest, and his feet crossed at the ankles. He smiled as he watched me flit around the kitchen.

“Need any help, sweetheart.” His voice startled me. I looked up at him and bit my lip. God I was so incredibly lucky to have him. “Good morning, Dean. No, I'm okay right now.”

He crossed the room, came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into his chest and he kissed my temple. “Do I smell pie?” He grinned.

“Yes you do, but it’s in the oven. You have to wait.” Dean’s bottom lip poked out in a pout. I turned and faced him, placing my hands on his chest. “Dean, it’s not ready yet. You have to wait.” “Is that the only pie?” He asked with a smirk.

“Now what do you think?” I said as I walked towards the counter. I held up the pumpkin pie and a grin spread across his face. He took three steps towards me and took the pie out of my hand with a chuckle.

“Dean Winchester, give that back to me. That’s for later.” He laughed as he held it over my head. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Can’t reach it? You’re welcome to have it back if you can reach it.”

“Oh you’re so mean.” We both were laughing and I kept jumping, trying to reach the pie. Sam appeared at the door and saw us playing around. He loved seeing his brother so happy.

“Alright you two, get a room.” He said as he walked in to grab a coffee. “Sam, please tell your brother to give me back the pie. It’s for later.” Sam chuckled, threw his hands up in defeat, “You’re on your own shortstack. I thought you’d know by now to never get in the way of Dean and his pie.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side, Sammy.” I said as I kept trying to get the pie. “Thanks baby brother.” Dean laughed.

“Alright, both of you, out of my kitchen. I have dinner to finish and you’re distracting me, Dean.” Dean placed the pie down, pulled me flush to him and kissed my lips.

“God I love you, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re mine.” “I love you too, Dean, and you better believe it. Until my last breath, I’m yours.”

Dean walked out of the kitchen and turned back to look at me again. His heart leaped in his chest.

I finished getting the rest of the food prepared and I set the dining room table. Sam invited Eileen, Jack and Cass were coming, and of course Dean and I would be there. I was excited to have all of our family there to help celebrate Thanksgiving.

As I stepped into mine and Dean’s room I found him sitting at his desk writing. I hadn’t seen him write in a long time. He told me when we first started dating he would write sometimes to help with his anxiety.

“Hey, baby. I’m just gonna jump in the shower before everyone gets here.” I said as I stepped into the room. Dean looked up, “Okay sweetheart. I’ll be done here in a minute.” I lightly touched his shoulder, “Okay Dean.”

“Hey sweetheart?” I turned to look at Dean from the bathroom doorway, “Yes?” “I love you.” I smiled, “I love you too, Dean.”

About twenty minutes later I was showered, dressed and ready for dinner. When I walked into the room, Dean was gone and his journal was tucked away in its spot on the desk. I nervously bit my lip. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness creep into my heart. Dean was upset about something, but he was keeping it from me. I had worked so hard to get most of his walls down, it broke my heart to think there was something bothering him that he felt he couldn’t share with me.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the dining room. Sam, Eileen, Cas and Jack were all there chatting. I looked around for Dean but didn’t see him.

They all greeted me, “Hey Y/N. Everything looks delicious, are you ready to eat?” I smiled, “Sure, y’all dig in. I’m going to find Dean.” Sam looked up at me, “He’s in the garage.” I nodded and walked towards the garage.

I heard Dean before I even got in the room. I walked over to Baby and saw Dean sitting in the car. His eyes met mine, “Damn.” He whispered, causing me to blush.

“Dean, dinner is ready. Let’s go eat.” Dean climbed out of the car and pulled me flush to him. “Look at how beautiful you look, sweetheart. I am one lucky man.” “Don’t you forget it, Mr. Winchester.” “I could never, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Before we go, Y/N I wanted to talk to you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and bit my bottom lip, “Okay.” My voice barely a whisper. “I’ve done some pretty screwed up stuff in my life. I never thought I was worthy of anything, let alone love. Then I met you. I am thankful every single day I get to wake up next to you as your husband. You making this day special, this meal for us means so much to me. Nobody has ever loved me like you do. I know you saw me writing earlier, and I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to. I know it’s how you deal with things in your head. Whatever you wrote, it’s okay if you keep it to yourself.”

Dean stepped closer, “Baby I want to tell you. It’s about you, us.” “Okay, Dean. Whatever you have to say I can take it. No matter what it is.” My heart hammered in my chest. I was terrified and didn’t know why.

“Sweetheart, I’m ready.” I looked at him confused. “Ready to eat?” I asked. Dean chuckled, “No, well, yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m ready to start a family with you. I want us to have those babies we talked about. I want to leave this world a little better than we found it.”

My breath hitched, “What? You really want to start a family?” “Yes, Y/N. I want to start a family with you. I can’t wait to see our babies and raise them by your side.”

I threw my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist. “Yes, Dean! A thousand times yes! Let’s have a baby.” Dean kissed me deeply, “Wanna go start now?” He winked.

“As much as I would, we do have a table full of guests who are hungry.” Dean chuckled, “You’re right. Let’s go eat. I can’t wait to get some of that pie you made.” “I can’t wait to start a family with you, Dean.” He grabbed my hand, “Me either, darlin’.”

Dean and I walked into the dining room and greeted everyone. As I sat down and looked around the table at my family I smiled. I loved every single person sitting here with me, and I couldn’t wait to bring a little one into this family.

We love each other deeply, protect completely, and never give up on each other. I know our baby will grow up loved, strong and protected.

As dinner started to wrap up, Sam and Eileen announced they were going to be getting married, Cas and Jack were rebuilding heaven, and Dean announced he and I were going to work on starting a family.

Everyone was excited for us. Jack stepped close to me and whispered in my ear. I looked at him and he nodded.

My heart fluttered. Later that night, Dean and I laid in bed, after a few times of trying and he held me tight.

“Y/N, thank you for a wonderful day. I am so thankful for you.” “Dean, I am thankful for you too, and our baby.”

Dean’s brain took a second to catch what I said. His eyes shot open and he propped himself up on his elbow, “What baby?” I looked at my husband, deep in his green eyes, “Jack told me tonight I’m pregnant, Dean. We’re pregnant.”

“Oh my god, sweetheart. I’m gonna be a dad?” “Yes, Dean. You’re going to be a dad.” Dean gently placed his strong, calloused hands on my belly and kissed my lips. “Now this is something to be thankful for.” “Yes it is, Dean. Happy Thanksgiving, my love.” Dean cupped my face, “Happy Thanksgiving to you too, sweetheart.”

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x reader

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berenwrites · 2 days ago

Text

Vocation, Steddie, Stranger Things, G

A/N: Almost didn’t get anything written for this month. Had loads of ideas because it’s a great prompt but kept failing to write them down. But I finally managed it. Hope you enjoy. Don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.

Written for prompt: GUARD | wc: 532 | Rating G | cw: none

Tags: Fluff, Upside Down aftermath, future, corroded coffin, famous Eddie

Also on AO3 | ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

Vocation

It had started off as a cover when Eddie and the band began to take off. Once Corroded Coffin were slightly too large for Eddie having a constant male companion to go unnoticed, they manufactured a reason. Steve became Eddie’s bodyguard.

The kids had thought it was hilarious, since Steve had never won a fight with a human in his life, but Steve hadn’t. He’d taken private lessons and become what Eddie needed him to be. That it meant he could be seen everywhere with the man he loved had helped make all the bruises from combat training, and headaches from learning strategy and all about security, totally worth it.

The ruse hadn’t been necessary for years, but that didn’t mean the whole fandom didn’t still call him Bodyguard Steve. With the advent of the internet, he even had his own fanbase, which he found decidedly weird, but cheerfully put up with.

Of course, being in the public eye led to one little problem, people were beginning to notice he wasn’t aging normally. None of them were. Those who had been there at the final battle when they took down Vecna for good had all shared in something. It had affected them physically. For Max and Will, it has been more obvious, they could throw things around with their minds just like El. For the rest of them it had taken a few years.

Hopper and Joyce had been the easiest to spot. In their 40s when everything went down it had become clear much faster that neither of them was headed for their dotage when they should have been. Dustin had a whole sideline of studying all of them and his best guess was they were aging, on average, about two years for every ten.

That made turning down the management when they suggested Eddie get a younger man as his bodyguard really easy, but other things harder.

“Do you think it’s time to retire?” Eddie asked as he looked down at the latest article about the band in Rolling Stone.

“Do you want to?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie admitted, “but look…”

Steve glanced at the full page spread. It was hard not to see it. Jeff, Gareth, and Doug looked like veteran rockers, Eddie looked like a young upstart in their midst. The guys knew the truth. It had been impossible to keep it from them eventually, but the world didn’t. So far it had been explained away by leaks to the press about Botox and plastic surgery, but that wasn’t going to cut it for much longer.

“Vampires,” Steve found himself saying to his own surprise.

“Huh?”

“Tell the world you’re a vampire,” he replied as the idea formed. “You and the guys always wanted to do a really gothic album. Pretend it’s a whole thing and people won’t see the reality. It’ll give you a few more years until you’re ready to leave it behind.”

For a moment Eddie just stared at him.

“Sweetheart,” his husband finally said, “did I ever tell you you’re a genius?”

Steve just smiled to himself as Eddie dashed off to call the rest of the band. He would guard Eddie’s happiness forever.

( My Other fic on Tumblr)

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficnovember #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson

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crowhyun · 21 hours ago

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gym rat taehyun who you end us seeing frequently at the gym whenever you’re around too and he starts helping you out on some of the stuff and sexual tension and then BAM, sex

a/n: I haven't written smut in so long so please bare with me 😭 I'm trying to get back into the groove of it but I've kinda lost confidence though I hope that doesn't show in my works lol. I hope you enjoy this, anon, and thank you for requesting!!

Warnings: smut, pnv, exhibitionism, unprotected sex but hyun's pull out game is top tier, I would know

WC: 1.8k

The gym a few blocks away from your apartment was always too crowded for your taste. Midday was the worst, with every piece of equipment occupied, and the ones that weren't were a sweaty mess due to peoples' lack of politeness.

Though, around 10PM was always the best time to go. It was much less crowded, and it was almost calming, in a way.

You, along with a few other late night gym rats, took this time to your advantage. The gym was nearly empty, and hip-hop music played quietly from the speakers. The sound of equipment moving and barbells clanking was miniscule compared to how it usually was.

Though, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that that was the only reason you came to the gym at that time.

Your other reason - your main reason - was currently at the pull-up bar, biceps bulging and sweat dripping down his clear skin as he effortlessly hoisted himself up on the bar. You were quite familiar with this man, or at least as familiar as you could get from afar. Without fail, he'd always be at the gym at this time, always alone, and ever so efficient in his workouts.

You tried not to stare as you leisurely stretched. You weren't in the mood for heavy lifting or cardio, yet you were fully intent on boy watching.

After what seemed like over a dozen pull-ups, the man hopped down from the bar, turning around with a hand on his hip to grab his towel, and you quickly looked away to not get caught ogling. To look busy, you continued with your stretching, doing basic stretches to pass the time. You were so distracted trying to look busy that you hadn't even noticed a certain someone approaching until you heard his voice.

"Your form isn't good." He said, causing you to flinch and sir upright, staring right at the man who was sipping from his water bottle.

Is he talking to me?, you thought. Though, he was obvious who he was talking to, due to his large brown eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. "...huh?" Was all that you could muster out.

"Sorry." He apologized, screwing his water bottle shut. "I don't mean to bother you, but I just thought that I should tell you that your form isn't very good. You might hurt yourself."

Your lips went into an O-shape as you realized what he was saying, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You fully expected him to just walk away after that, but he spoke once more.

"I can help with some stretches if you'd like." He said. "I'm no personal trainer, but I know a thing or two."

"Oh...you'd do that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inwardly fangirled, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the man you've been crushing on.

"Yeah, of course." He nodded, placing his water bottle down and coming closer, your heart beating a mile a minute. He gave you a sweet smile before he bent down to your level, and you got a close up look at his sweaty skin and well built arms, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

"See, when you're doing lunge stretches, you have to make sure your back is flat and your core is engaged so that you can keep your balance." He said, his voice soft, though the near emptiness of the gym made it seem as if he were loud and clear. He got into position beside you, showing off the proper way to stretch, and you followed suit.

Throught the stretches, you had learned that his name was Taehyun, and he was pretty flexible himself. You may have even purposefully made yourself seem incompetent in your stretches so that he wouldn't leave anytime soon. It was getting later and later, but you didn't want to go home - not yet.

"Hamstring stretches are a bit harder, as most people don't stretch for long enough." He informed you, gently pushing you onto your back. "How flexible are you?" He asked, helping you to hike your leg up. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his strong hands on you, and the change of position nearly made you dizzy.

"Uh, maybe moderately?" You spoke, clearing your throat in an effort to sound like your panties weren't starting to get damp.

"Moderately?" He chuckled with a slight tilt to his head. "We'll see about that then, yeah? Just tell me when it's too much." He said, his hand circling around your calf as he started to slowly push your leg up...up...and up.

You winced a bit, the stretch starting to get painful, but you were too distracted by how he placed his other hand right on your thigh.

"There you go." He encouraged, your leg straight up and pushed against his shoulder as he kneeled down in front of you. "How're you feeling? Think you can go a bit more?"

"I can definitely feel the stretch." You chuckled, your heartrate beating a mile a minute. "I think I can go further, though."

With that, he started to slowly push your leg up once more, your thigh almost touching your chest. "Hmm, you're pretty flexible, aren't you?" He spoke, and you don't know if it's the rising desire within you or not, but his voice was starting to sound more...intimate.

"I didn't...I didn't realize before now." You said, finding it hard to breathe.

"Good thing you have me here then, huh?" He smirked, the sight making your walls clench around nothing. He then started to slowly lower your leg before doing the same to the other one. Your breath hitched at the stretch, and you winced.

"Fuck..." You whispered, unable to keep it in.

"Just a bit more, you got it." He said, his whisper matching yours as he stretched you further. His torso pressed against your leg, and you couldn't help yourself from taking a peek down between your legs. Truthfully, you just wanted to make sure you didn't completely soak through your leggings, but instead, you got a glimpse of what Taehyun was packing. The dim light of the gym reflected on the bulge in his gym shorts, and you literally felt your heart beat in your clit.

You quickly looked back up, eyes slightly widening, just to see that he was making eye contact with you. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you that he knew exactly what you were looking at.

If that didn't tell you enough, then his next actions did.

Stretching your leg so that your thigh met your chest, he positioned himself so that he was pressing up against you, and your breath hitched once you felt his bulge directly press against your clothed heat.

Shit...he's so close.

"There you go..." He said, his voice dangerously lustful. "Now you're all stretched out for me."

You weren't exactly sure when the switch flipped, and at this point, you didn't care if you were soaking through your leggings or not. You weren't crazy, his voice definitely held some underlying tension there, and neither of you could hide from it.

"Now that you're all stretched out, you can work out safely, no matter how hard."

Next thing you know, your leggings were hanging off of one leg, and your panties were pushed to the side to accommodate for how Taehyun's girth was stretching you out in a completely different way.

Sweat dripped down the strands of his wet hair, and your leg was hiked up on his shoulder, ensuring that you had no way to hide from just how deliciously he was rocking his hips into yours.

It was a caconaphy of hushed moans, grunts and whimpers, the sounds of your bodies colliding. You but your lip harshly to try and silence yourself even though you were pretty sure the gym was empty at this time. Taehyun's cock ruthlessly massaged your g-spot with each thrust, and he groaned in ecstacy as your nails dug into his arms in order to brace yourself.

"Ah- ah- ah-" Staccato moans left your lips as your body jerked each time his tip slammed against that spot within you, his pelvis hitting your clit over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, his brows furrowed in concentration, solely focused on fucking you dumb on his cock.

A loud keen ripped from your throat as he slightly adjusted his positioning, his cock hitting so deep inside your fluttering walls. Your hips bucked up and your other leg lifted, the urge to close your legs and run away from the numbing pleasure growing greater.

"Nuh-uh." Taehyun tsked, shaking his head as he roughly spread your legs, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. "C'mon, you can take it. Take this cock." He grunted, gifting you with a particularly harsh thrust that had you reeling.

Your head fell back on the mat underneath you and your thighs shook. You could feel his cock throb inside of you, his low grunts only driving you closer to the edge. You then gasped loudly, your jaw dropping and your body tensing.

"C-cumming, I'm cum-" You stammered out, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched moan that would've been impossible for you to keep in. Your pussy walls clamped around Taehyun's thick shaft like a vice, and he felt like he was seconds away from absolutely losing it at the way your fucked out face contorted into barely concealed pleasure as you creamed all around his cock.

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding you down as he pumped faster, his balls tightening as he saw completion on the horizon. "Mmmh, that's it...cum on my cock just like- hah- that." He groaned, his jaw clenching as his blunt nails dug into your wrists, and before he knew it, he couldn't take anymore.

He was quick to pull out of your tight heat, which was almost painful, but that no longer mattered to him, because his hot, thick cum was spurting out of his glistening cock and onto your stomach. The hottest whine left his throat as he came down from his high, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes darting down to your fucked out form.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, the only sound being the low volume of the music playing through the gym speakers and the sound of the both of you catching your breaths.

"Well, uhm..." He suddenly spoke, clearing his throat. You noticed that he was avoiding eye contact, and the tips of his ears were tinted red.

Was he...embarrassed?

You fought the urge to laugh as he continued.

"If you just, uh...do those stretches before every workout, you should be good to go." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks..." You spoke, your voice a bit hoarse. "For helping me stretch...and for the little present you gave me." You said, referring to his seed that was splattered across your stomach, seeping down to your belly button.

His eyes widened and he choked, almost as if he forgot that he had came on you.

"I'll...deal with that."

#txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun smut #txt smut #txt x reader #crowhyun requests #taehyun requests

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jimxnslightficrecs · 3 days ago

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Finally got a chance to read this series and it is absolutely amazing. The complexity of oc’s thoughts are just so well-written. I love the way her feelings towards Jungkook are so dynamic, sometimes teetering on romantic and other times pushing into familial/friendly and sometimes a feeling completely unfamiliar, I feel like it rlly encompasses realistic human emotions because usually they aren’t so straightforward and are instead constantly tugging back and forth between each other (we’re just confusing like that lmao, or at least I am).

And Jungkook, this has to be one of my favourite versions of him. He’s so soft and caring and it’s devastating to see the little and big ways in which his past relationship and current career are pulling him down so much :(

I can’t wait to see how oc climbs out of her seemingly sheltered life, I get the feeling Jungkook will play a huge role in it especially considering how impactful his help has been so far, but a small part of me hopes things don’t entirely fall apart with Yoongi (eldest sibling thingz perhaps lol). I guess we’ll wait and see tho. Either way, I’m looking forward to the next part, although pls take as much time as you need ❤️

THE BALL OF LIGHT | series, bangtan

— does love exist within this ball of light i feel? — does love exist within this ball of light i feel? — does love exist within this ball of light i feel?

those words string together a question; and they are also a rosary of conviction.

born out of literature instead of love, the pages of your books and the papers of your journals have always been your religion. folded legs, short hair wild, dostoyevsky's words on your lap—that is the standard portrait of you. it's how your brother yoongi knows you, it's what his heart knows: you go to school, you study, you read and you write while he takes care of everything else, now that yours and his parents aren't in the picture. it's his driving force, you fulfilling your dream. he thinks it's getting your degree in literature, working in a realm with books, and for a while you thought so as well. but it isn't until you meet love incarnated that you realize your dream has always been the thing that haunted you the most.

love.

a raw, barbaric kind of love.

and you're willing to do anything for it. even leave your brother behind in order to have it.

— the ball of light is a story of destruction, close-knit relationships and wading through the newness of adulthood.

pairing: brother!yoongi x fem. oc x friend!jeongguk (other secret bangtan members, tba.)

genre: angst, fluff, brother's best friend au, eventual smut, coming of age au, yearning.

warnings: parental death (not described), emotional fights, abandonment issues, silent treatment, rejection issues, fear, the wrong kind of longing, thoughts of nudity and nudity itself, smoking, secrecy, betrayal, tba.

word count: 15.139

cp: ao3 / wp

𓂃 ♡ chapters:

clandestine, and yet real – i. life of other people never mirrored yours and jeon jeongguk will never be yours, either. thrilling, and yet frightening – ii. inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life. calm, but unfair — iii. the rules yoongi made in your life are doomed to collapse.

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crimsonrubie · 15 hours ago

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A Quiet Night

Rider!Bakugou would have one of the fastest motorcycles in the gang because he's a freak for speed and power. His bike would probably be a Suzuki GSX-R750, black and orange, with 750cc. He would be speeding with this baby everywhere. It's perfect for him because of its aerodynamic design and sharp and aggressive lines.

I imagine he loves taking his bike out on late-night rides. Especially when his mind is running a mile a second, what better way to cool off than speeding through the streets with his bike?

Warnings: Teeny tiny bit of angst then fluff! Also this is the first fic I've written in years so my writing is floppy at best and English isn't my first language so please excuse any mistakes!!

~~~

The cool night wind of Musutafu swept by and ruffled his blonde spikes as the roar of the engine purred in the background.

It was one of those nights. The silence at his home was eating him alive like an infection and without thinking, Katsuki grabbed his keys, forgoing his helmet and headed to his sleek dark and orange bike. He threw on a leather jacket over his top and sped off from his garage.

His mind hadn't calmed down since the incident this morning when he was on patrol. Heroes are known for doing their best to save everyone, but it's no secret that not everyone can be saved. The thought alone urged him to twist the throttle, revving the engine and letting it drown out his loud thoughts.

At his action, he heard a cheer similar to a kid's and turned his head to the side for only a second. The little kid's bright smile from the car beside him on the highway silenced his thoughts as he focused on him now. The car was keeping up with his bike, due to the empty road this time of night and the kid extended his hand out of the window and mimicked the motion of revving an engine.

Katsuki, to entertain the little boy, did as he wished and twisted the throttle, letting it last for a little longer and the bright smile from the boy brightened a small spot inside Katsuki's heart. The car then took a turn and the boy waved to him, Katsuki giving him one last rev before they separated.

He drove along the road, the streetlights blurring past him as the night remained quiet and peaceful except for a few cars. His emotions were still in chaos, but the low hum of the engine and the distraction of driving provided him with only some sense of satisfaction.

After half an hour, a park became visible in the distance. Katsuki noticed it was deserted for the most part and was situated a good distance away from the busy streets of the city so he decided it was a good place to stop. He parked his bike in the empty parking lot belonging to the park overlooking the beach. He killed the engine and got off of the seat, fixing his leather jacket and zipping it up as the cool air arriving from the sea sent a shiver down his body.

His lungs expanded to take in as much of the salty air as he could, letting it out in a deep sigh. Though looking out into the night sky, far from the blinding lights of the bustling city did little to distract his mind from his thoughts as they came rushing back. Now nothing around him could distract him from his swirling dark thoughts.

He hated it most when he failed in a mission, despised it and loathed it really. Whether he was bleeding all over or even had one of his arms rendered useless because of the damage, he refused to give up. Always pushing forward to save the day and kick some villain's ass. This passion was with him since he was a little boy and never left but only grew when the seed was sowed at the awakening of his quirk.

His quirk was supposed to be used for good, to save and win. What happened today was a complete contrast to that. He hated himself for letting the villain get him in such a vulnerable state. One little mistake lead to a chaotic and traumatizing ending for everyone on the scene.

Just remembering the anguished faces of the boy's parents after he utterly failed to get to him in time shattered another piece of his already broken soul. Now breathing didn't come to him as easily. His breathing was ragged and uneven, and his chest felt like it was being restricted by a boulder. His hands sought out his throat, gripping it as if his life depended on it and he gritted his teeth.

"D-damn it- Damn it all to hell!" His hand heated up without his knowledge, the nitroglycerin sweat on his palms reacting to his quirk. At his yell, a cat jumped up on a stone seat beside him and meowed. His breathing hitched and his eyes scanned the cat. Under the dim lightening of the lamp post beside the stone bench, he could decipher beautiful black fur and slit eyes that rounded out just a little at him. It wasn't a kitten, but didn't appear to be old but maybe a few years old perhaps.

The cat was looking at him, as if interested in what made him yell out into the night but he left it and plopped down on the stone seat, just a few feet away from the cat on the other side and buried his face in his hands. A minute passed which felt like an eternity before the tiniest of sobs escaped his lips. His hands now in his hair, he pulled harshly at the roots, needing anything to distract him from the searing pain in his chest if even for a second.

Gradually, the sobs left him like a dam with a crack, starting out slow and only deepening the crack and breaking it even more to allow more to flood out. His aching chest hurt, and one of his hands left his hair and grabbed at his jacket, right above the scar shielded underneath all the clothing. His fingers clutched tightly at the leather, crinkling it up as tears ran freely down his face, quiet sobs escaping without his permission.

It hurt. Everything hurt. His heart, his mind, his chest, even his hand from how tightly he was holding onto his jacket as if it was his lifeline and he was hanging on by a thread. His head was ducked as he suffered mentally and physically under the dim lightening when a weight was pressed against his thigh.

At first, he didn't notice but another thing landed on his thigh and he then pulled his head back and noticed the cat with its front paws now on his thigh, meowing up at him so softly. It was as if the little being knew he was in a vulnerable state and was offering comfort.

He sniffed, his arm rubbing over his red face and cold nose from the cold air. "You're weird, you know that?" His voice was gruff when he spoke, raspy from all the crying but the cat only climbed further into his lap, curling up as if getting ready to sleep and loafing on his lap.

The added weight of the feline and its warmth chased away some of the demons tormenting his mind. He looked down at the cat and scoffed with a sniff afterwards, realising that the cat in some way, knew to comfort him.

Katsuki wasn't a cat or dog person. His best friend Eijirou Kirishima, owned a Staffordshire bull terrier, the little guy both energetic and affectionate, a carbon copy of his owner but Katsuki never knew the appeal of owning a live animal and taking care of their needs, training them, and just sharing space with a living being he can't directly communicate with.

The cat was snuggled up on his lap and his mind now momentarily forgetting the pain in his chest, urged his hand to pet the soft fur of the black cat and he let out a breath when the soft sound of purring reached his ears. The side of his lip quirked up just slightly at seeing the little creature happily snuggled into his lap and purring like nobody's business.

While he was petting it, he then noticed a thin pink collar hidden under its fur and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You lost or something?" He mumbled under his breath and reached under the cat's chin to look at the tag and saw a phone number. He hummed then seeing the pink collar again, noted the cat must be female.

No wonder the cat wasn't sceptical of him. She was a house cat and well cared for from the looks of it so she didn't carry the same hesitance to humans like other street cats and approached him right away. The cat must have been emotionally intelligent, maybe a service animal?

Pushing those thoughts to the side for now, he got out his phone and texted the number a picture of the cat on his lap and his location.

Found her at the park in front of the parking lot.

He clicked send and not a second later, his phone dinged with a response and he opened it up again, the bright screen illuminating his face in the darkness.

I'm on my way! Thank you so much!!

He left it at that and put his phone down. He continued petting the cat, the notion calming him down as he soaked up the last few minutes he had with his unusual companion before she had to go back to her owner.

He gave a quick glance at the number's profile picture before he put his phone down and knew it was a girl but didn't look clearly to know any more details.

A few minutes passed by of him silently petting the feline and admiring her soft dark fur, letting the time run as he distracted himself with the continuous motion of petting the cute animal. The cat then pressed her paws on his lap then stretched making him chuckle under his breath at the cat comfortably doing whatever she desired on his lap.

"Ohh big stretch! She loves you." At the new voice, his head lifted instinctively and his breath was knocked out of his lungs. His back straightened like a board. This time it was a nice feeling, not choking him up but instead providing him with a sense of calmness and the smell of fresh air. Why, he had no idea but he welcomed the feeling in this dark time.

You looked pretty. With no makeup on and wearing a light colored hoodie and comfortable pants, you looked like you were on a leisurely walk before you lost sight of your feline friend. He found it endearing the moment his eyes skimmed briefly over your figure and back to your eyes.

Your figure closed the distance between you and you sat beside him on the stone bench, your cat upon recognising you, lazily switching from Katsuki's lap and snuggling up on yours instead. You provided her with scratches under the chin and ears as she purred. "You seriously need to be on a leash sometimes." You spoke out to the cat but he didn't detect any malice in your voice. "You always escape right under my nose but come crawling back for food huh?" The cat meowed in response, as if sassily replying to you and he watched the interaction with curiosity.

You suddenly sat up straight with a start and acknowledged the man beside you. Your reaction was similar to his if not the same. Your back straightened up and your lips formed a small rounded shape in surprise when your eyes scanned his naturally pale face. Red piercing eyes stared into yours as if to hypnotize you but you cleared your throat and offered up your hand in greeting, thankful this specimen of a man hadn't made you forget your manners.

"Katsuki bakugou." He greeted you in return, accepting your hand and nodding towards the cat in your lap. "She yours then?" He internally slapped himself for the stupid question.

You didn't seem to mind his gruff exterior and nodded with a smile, "Yes, her name's Aiko." At the familiar word, he remembers its meaning and hums.

"Little loved one."

Your eyes widened a fraction at the fact he knew the meaning and you let out a small laugh. "Yes, I love her so much and after a week of having her, I decided Aiko was perfect for her. She wouldn't hurt a fly and is so sweet with everyone, even little kids who aren't sure how to treat her. Everyone falls in love with her cuteness too, she's charming that way." You purse your lips and a blush blooms on your cheeks when you notice you rambled. "Sorry, I tend to ramble about her." You scratch at the back of your neck and he grunts in response, his shoulders relaxed as he sits back against the backrest.

"It's fine."

With his lack of words, you go ahead and ask a question in return. "You were out on a nightly stroll I'm guessing?" You tilt your head, Aiko now purring in your lap as you tuck her in your hoodie pocket so she won't get cold. It became a habit for the cat since she was a few months old and always crawled into the spacious pocket of your hoodie to warm up and surprisingly still fits.

He hums, fidgeting with his hands in his lap as he looks forward. "Just came here for some fresh air. I needed space and quiet, and found it here."

You hum and he blinks when a second later, you have your hand outstretched towards him, palm up with a snack in hand. "Take this, it's a homemade cookie, I made it. Don't worry I'm actually a good baker and you can take it as a sign of my gratitude for finding Aiko." You nudge your hand in his direction, encouraging him to take it and after a second of confusion, he accepts the cookie.

"Thanks. Do you carry cookies everywhere with you?" He raises an eyebrow at you, his attention now diverted from the beach. You noticed a small smirk appearing on his lips and rolled your eyes playfully.

"Well on occasion, yes. I always go out on walks with snacks and treats for Aiko too. Sometimes I can be out here for hours so I get hungry and speaking of that I also get my books a lot of the time too, I love reading in this park." He watched you talk with a gentle smile while your hands were busy petting Aiko's head that was peeking out of your pocket.

"Oh and I never saw you here before, you aren't from around here?" At your question, he nods in reply.

"I live in the city. I found this place by coincidence and parked here to get some fresh air." You hum and a minute later, he opens the packet you stored the cookie in and takes it out. "Chocolate chip." He comments and you nod with a smile.

"Yes, tell me how it tastes and hopefully you don't completely hate it." You giggle and watch as he takes a bite and chews.

Those few seconds felt like one of those cooking shows where the judge is eating antagonizingly slow as the crowd waits for their reaction. That's how you felt when you watched him chew down on the cookie and swallow. He licked his lips to get rid of the crumbs left and your stomach fluttered at the action but you cleared your throat and looked back into his eyes.

To your utter shame, he was smirking knowingly at you and you knew you were caught ogling at his lips but quickly asked him a question to avoid the embarrassment. "So? How is it?"

He hums and eats another bite, this one bigger than the last and you smile. "I'm guessing it's nice?" He nods, wiping his mouth with his thumb after he swallows.

"Send me the recipe." You blink. Well, that was straightforward.

"Uh, sure-" Your reply gets cut off by your laughter. He had his own unique ways of expressing his liking to something but you took it, sensing that he was just like that. "I'll make sure to send it to you now that I have your number don't worry. Right when I get back home!" He grunts and continues eating till the cookie is finished.

Conversation flowed from there for another hour at least. Talking with Katsuki felt like reuniting with a dear old friend as if you had known each other for years. Unfortunately, it was becoming late making you realise that you would have to part ways with this handsome stranger who helped you find your cat.

"Well, I'll have to head back home sadly. I have a shift tomorrow afternoon so I need to get back if I don't want to go looking like a zombie." You got up with Aiko in your hoodie's pocket, Katsuki standing up with you and burying his hands in his pockets.

"I'll give you a ride home."

"Oh! It's fine you don't need to! My apartment is only a few minutes away."

"I'm giving you a ride home. Whether you come or refuse and get kidnapped out on the street. Your choice." He raises an expectant eyebrow and you hate that he's right at the possibility of you getting kidnapped.

You sigh in defeat and nod. "Fine okay, I didn't want to be a bother that's all!" He grunts and starts walking. You quickly zip up your bag, sling it over your shoulder and jog after him until you're walking by his side.

"You are a man of few words?" He side-eyes you and shrugs.

"Don't feel like talking. Don't mistake it for me not giving a shit about our time together though. It wasn't half bad I guess." You conclude you can't get better than that from him and a smile creeps on your lips. He was being nice in his own way and even though only meeting him tonight, you felt comfortable with him.

He reaches a sleek motorcycle and your eyes bulge out of their sockets at the expensive-looking vehicle. "You gonna keep staring like a creep or what?" He snarks out but you notice a proud smirk on his lips at having his baby be marvelled at. It was apparent that he took pride in his motorcycle.

You then snap out of it and pout. "Hey, I'm not a creep! Your bike is just so cool and I'm not really used to seeing them so up close."

At your compliment, his cheeks redden just slightly and he ducks his head with the cover of taking out his keys. "Anyway get on." He nudges his head towards the bike and you walk over, swinging your leg around it, being mindful of the feline in your pocket and shuffle back on the seat as he gets on in front of you. He swings his leg over the bike with practised ease and his boots find secure footings on the foot pegs.

He inserts the key, twists it and the low purr of the engine roared to life in the silence of the night. "Hold on to me and make sure your little friend doesn't get ideas." You laugh and hold on to Aiko with one arm, wrapping your other free arm around his waist. The moment your arm makes contact with his front a blush explodes on your face at being so close to this stranger.

He had an air of kindness to him that you think isn't seen or noticed by many but when you do see it, you see a part he keeps reserved for only a handful of people in his life. You're glad the stranger who ended up finding your cat wasn't a creep or weirdo but instead turned out to be this handsome man who accepted your cookie and demanded the recipe be sent to him.

"Where do you live?" He asks from behind his shoulder as he kicks off the stand and pulls out of the parking spot, then makes a turn and gets on the road.

You relay your address to him and he scoffs. "A few minutes away? That's at least half an hour's walk away you shitty woman!" He exclaims, the wind from the ride making it come out a little muffled and you mockingly gasp. You guess he's more comfortable with you now with how his words left his mouth so smoothly and with no reluctance.

"Well sorry for declining your gentlemanly offer! I didn't want you going out of your way to get me there because you could be going in the opposite direction!"

"This is nothing. As long as you're fine I don't care how much further it is from my own home, next time you better not be as stupid with me or anyone else!" You open your mouth to retort but find yourself unable to think of anything so instead you grumble under your breath.

He chuckles at your grumbling and you feel your face heat up once again as his body vibrates with his deep laugh. The air is cold this time of night and you instinctively snuggle closer to his back, unknowingly making the blonde flush to his ears but he doesn't complain and the ride is spent in comfortable silence till you arrive at your apartment.

You dejectedly unwrap your arm from his waist and he gets up to help you out of the bike. You're swinging your leg to get off when it suddenly catches on something on the bike and you yelp as you lose balance but before you can fall any further, firm arms are wrapped around you and you're enveloped in the deep musky scent of Katsuki.

"Hey, easy. You okay?" His deep voice reverberates throughout your body and you shiver at the welcoming sound of his voice and nod, your arms braced on his chest while you're still in an awkward position on his bike. You were flustered behind belief because you felt his hard and defined chest underneath and all of it along with his voice will make you combust.

He moves to pick you up from your waist and plop you down safely on the ground and you blink at his strength. No wonder he owns such a powerful bike, it basically represents its owner. Sharp and striking just like his red eyes. Powerful and loud like him but in an endearing way, leading you to realise that you like it.

"T-Thank you, I'm not usually clumsy." You mumble, suddenly shy and he shrugs as he gets back on his bike and nods.

"Stay safe."

"Yeah, you too, Bakugou." You give him an appreciative smile and he nods in acknowledgement, a small smile making its way to his lips and you catch it before he turns his bike and speeds off into the night.

You hear an annoyed meow from your pocket and shiver at the cold air, "Whoops, sorry Aiko, let's go get warmed up in bed yeah?"

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