#it's only midnight and I've been writing this on and off for two hours...

[moregraceful]

EVERYBODY SHUT UP!!!!!! PAT SIELOFF IS PREGNANT!!!!!

1. Birthday cake from Sierra and Kelly; 2. Gritty soft serve ice cream cup; 3. Sign for Erik Johnson's 1k celebration; 4. Jersey Devil Christmas tree ornament.

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[chloewriteswhenshewantsto]

Afterglow

Authors Note: It’s me. Hi. I’m back with another attempt at “writing”. This is an angsty one this time. I felt I should learn to write something that pulls at the heartstrings. I hope this doesn’t disappoint.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Period Specific Sexism

Word Count: 2.9K

Anthony looks up from his desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he calls out a gruff. "Who is it?"

The rain outside continues to batter the windows, the sound muffled but still audible through the thick oak door of his office.

Anthony's expression softens immediately as he sees you standing in the doorway. He smiles, setting down his pen and pushing himself away from the desk.

"Love, what are you doing up at this hour?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks over to you. "You should be in bed."

“I couldn’t fall asleep without you.” you admit sheepishly. “The bed doesn’t feel the same without you in it.”

Anthony's smile widens, his heart swelling with a tender affection as he hears your admission. He steps closer to you, his hands coming up to tenderly frame your face.

"You know I'd rather be in bed with you too, darling," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with tiredness. "But the ledgers won't balance themselves, I'm afraid."

“Surly you can do them in the morning, you’ve been working so hard lately, my love.”

Anthony lets out a weary sigh, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he holds your gaze.

"You know I'd love nothing more, sweetheart," he admits, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "But there's so much work to do. I've been neglecting my duties, thanks to our trip to the country"

“You have been in here all day, it is past midnight surly you can rest now.” you say frustratedly. Your husband is a hard worker, but the dark circles under his eyes betray him. He needs to rest.

Anthony flinches slightly at the tone in your voice, the frustration in your words evident. He lets out another sigh, his hands dropping from your face and going to his hips.

"I know I've been working late, darling," he says, his voice quieter now. "But there's just so much to do. The ton relies on me to keep the estate running smoothly, and with the ball coming up, there's so much to prepare for-"

“Then let me help you lighten the load, I might not know how to balance the books but teach me I am a quick learner. Surly two heads will be better than one.” you say, pleading with your husband to let you help ease his burden.

It is not a woman’s job to deal with finances, you know this, and your husband is a proud man that will want to take the pressure off everyone but himself. You can only hope that he is too tired to argue with you tonight.

Anthony hesitates for a moment, torn between his natural instinct to handle everything himself and the desire to please you.

"Darling, it's not your job to help me with all this," he starts hesitantly, his gaze flickering between you and the papers scattered on his desk. "I'm supposed to take care of everything, that's my responsibility as the viscount-"

“And what of my responsibility as your wife?” you interrupt him sharply. “Is it not part of my duties to help you when you are struggling.”

Anthony falls silent for a moment, your sharp words cutting through the air like a knife. He looks at you carefully, his expression a mixture of surprise and contemplation.

"Of course it is," he admits quietly, his shoulders deflating a fraction. "Be that as it may, these are things that I'm supposed to handle, sweetheart. The estate, the financial planning-"

“I wish to help, I wish to spend time with my husband outside this office!” you frustratedly plea.

Anthony's expression darkens, his shoulders tensing as he struggles to keep his own temper in check.

"You know I wish I could spend more time with you, darling," he snaps back.

"You think I don't want that too?" he retorts, his voice rising slightly. "You think I enjoy spending every waking moment in this damn office, bogged down by paperwork and figures? But it's my job, my responsibility-"

Anthony continues to rant, his frustration and exhaustion getting the better of him as he snaps at you.

"I don't need another problem to deal with. I don't need you hovering over me, trying to help, when I'm the one who has to carry the weight of this estate on my shoulders. You're already distracting me enough as it is."

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep.

"You need to stop being so bloody needy!" he snaps, his tone sharp and frustrated. "I'm doing the best I can, but there's only so much I can handle! You're asking me to do the impossible. Besides, what on earth could you possibly know about running an estate? All you know is dresses and tea parties and silly little gossip rings, you don't know the first thing about what I’m going through-"

Anthony immediately regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth, his eyes widening in alarm as he realizes the damage his words have done. His lack of sleep and his patience that has been holding on by a thread that has finally snapped.

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep into your heart.

Anthony's face softens immediately as he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. His anger and frustration disappear, replaced by regret and guilt as he realizes the impact of his words.

"Wait, darling, I didn't-" he starts, reaching out a hand towards you.

“I am sorry I didn’t realise I was another problem that you had to deal with, my lord.” you say stonily, taking a step back from his reach. “I shall leave you be.”

Anthony winces at your formal address, the coldness in your tone cutting through him like a knife.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant-" he tries to explain, his voice filled with remorse.

Anthony stands there, frozen, as the door swings shut behind you. The sound of the rain outside is suddenly deafening, drowning out the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

"Shit," he mutters, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. "I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it...fuck." he curses out, swiping the papers of his desk in anger.

Anthony storms over to the corner of the office, pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. He downs it in one gulp before pouring himself another, the whiskey burning its way down his throat and into his stomach. He paces the room, his mind a maelstrom of guilt and self-recrimination.

Anthony spends most of the night in his office, drowning himself in paperwork and the bottle of whiskey by his side. He tries to focus on the figures in front of him, but his mind keeps drifting back to you.

He can still hear the echo of your hurt and angered voice in his ears, the way you'd shut the door behind you with a sharp click. It pains him how callous and cold he'd been to you, how he'd let his frustration spill out in the worst possible way…

As the first rays of sunlight start to filter through his office windows, Anthony finally falls asleep at his desk, head resting on his arms, his dreams plagued with visions of you. Countless apologetic notions fill his thoughts, he will make things better. He has too.

———————————————————————

Anthony groans, as daylight makes its way through his office windows. Lifting his head off the desk, memories of last night come rushing back, and with them, the sharp pang of guilt. His head is pounding from the liquor, his neck aching from the awkward position he slept in. He sits up, rubbing his temples with a weary groan, the events of the previous night playing over in his mind on repeat.

"Bloody hell," he mutters to himself, shoving a hand through his disheveled hair.

Anthony spots a maid walking down the hall as he emerges from his office, his expression still weary and guilt-ridden. He stops her, and with a gruff in his voice from tiredness, he asks her.

"Excuse me, have you seen my wife this morning? Where is she?"

The maid, a young woman with a cheerful smile, gives Anthony a puzzled look as he stops her in the hallway.

"Good morning, my lord," she says, a little taken aback by his weary and disheveled appearance.

Anthony runs a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it but failing.

“I have not seen the viscountess this morning, my lord. Would you like me to check with the other maids on her whereabouts?” she respectfully responds.

His heart sinks at the maid's response. He had hoped that he would find you wandering the halls, ready for him to apologize and make things right. But instead, he is left with a sense of confusion and growing dread as to your whereabouts.

"Yes, please. Anything you can find out would be greatly appreciated. I need to speak with her urgently." he says tiredly.

The maid nods her head in understanding as Anthony dismisses himself to ascends the stairs with a heavy heart, his mind still spinning with guilt and worry. As he reaches the door to his bedroom, he hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath as he mentally prepares himself to face you.

He quietly pushes the door open, peering into the bedroom to see if you are there.

Anthony's heart drops as he sees that the bed is still made and empty. You are nowhere to be found, and he immediately starts to panic.

"Damn it, where is she?" he mutters, stepping further into the room as he looks around frantically trying to find clean clothing to change into.

Stepping out of his room, Anthony runs through the hallways of the estate, calling out your name frantically as he looks in every room and corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly. He checks the library, the study, the drawing room, anywhere he can think of where you might be, but you are nowhere to be found.

"Damn it, where are you?" he repeats, his voice ragged and desperate. "Please, love, where are you?"

As Anthony is running through the estate, he is stopped by a staff member who approaches him urgently. His eyes immediately snap to theirs, a flicker of hope and desperation in his gaze.

"What is it? Where is she?" he asks urgently, his voice betraying his anxiety.

Anthony listens intently to the staff member's words, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears the words "gardens". Without a moment's hesitation, he spins on his heel and takes off in that direction, his steps quick and determined.

Anthony's heart stutters in his chest as he sees you, tucked away in a tranquil corner of the gardens, reading a book. Relief floods through him, but it is quickly replaced by guilt and worry. He pauses, watching you for a moment, his eyes taking in your figure, the sight of you a balm to his weary heart.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and starts to walk towards you. Your eyes meet his, and he is struck by the sight of you, sitting there under the tree, reading like nothing had happened between you. His heart clenches in his chest, and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

“I suppose so, if you are not too busy that is.” you dryly respond looking up at him.

Anthony flinches slightly at the cold tone in your voice, but he doesn't blame you for being angry. He takes a seat on the grass next to you, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion and regret.

"I am never too busy for you," he replies softly, his gaze fixed on yours. "I... I wanted to talk to you, to apologize for last night."

Your expression does not give him hope that this will be an easy conversation for them to have. Feeling nervous he gestures towards the book in your lap, his expression softening.

"May I ask what you're reading?" he inquired, his voice quieter now, almost nervous.

“It is a book on mathematics, I thought it would be smart to fill my brain with things other than dresses and endless gossip.” you respond hitting back at him for his earlier words.

He winces at your words, his shoulders visibly tense as he absorbs the sting in them. He knows he deserves it, after everything he said to you last night. But still, the reminder of his careless words hurts.

"I deserved that," he admits quietly, his eyes downcast. "And I am sorry, for what I said yesterday. It was careless and cruel, and I didn't mean it, truly. You are not another problem, love. You are my partner, my wife. I was just... frustrated, overwhelmed."

Releasing a sigh you meet his eyes. You can see how tired he looks, how vulnerable.

“I know that, which is why I wanted to help. I never meant to become another issue that you had to deal with when you are already so busy.”

Anthony's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes. He reaches out a hand, tentatively resting it on your knee.

"You are not an issue," he says firmly. "You are the furthest thing from it. I was out of line, love, and I'm sorry. I... I should have let you help, should have been grateful that you cared enough to ask. I know how difficult it is for you, sitting at home while I'm stuck in that office day in and day out."

“You hurt me you know, with your words,” you say sadly. “I went to bed alone last night and I cried for what seemed like hours. Then I thought of how angry I was with your stubbornness, so I woke up this morning and went straight to the library because as much as I am upset with you I still love you too much to see you end up in an early grave because you worked yourself to death.”

Anthony's heart clenches as he hears your words, knowing he is the cause of your pain. He lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on your knee as he hangs his head in shame.

"I know," he says quietly, his voice thick with regret. "And I don't blame you for being angry with me, I was a fool for saying those things to you. You have no idea how much I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. I hurt you, and for that, I am truly sorry. Tell me how can I make it better."

“If you wish to make things up to me you may sit with me and teach me what you know of accounts. I do not wish to have this argument again so I wish to know so I may lend a hand when you truly need it.”

Anthony's eyes widen in surprise at your suggestion, but he quickly composes himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He nods slowly, his hand still resting on your knee, a warm and reassuring presence.

"I'd be happy to teach you," he says softly. "And I promise, I will never be that careless again, love. I'll ask for your help next time, I swear it."

“Hmmm, you better.” you gently smile at him. “Also if I am to help you I would like a desk. A large one.”

Anthony chuckles weakly at your request, a mix of relief and amusement at your stubbornness. He nods, his gaze fixed on you.

"Of course, love. You'll have your very own desk, right next to mine. And I'll make sure to explain everything to you, I promise."

You lean over to kiss him gently. Placing a hand on his cheek. You can never stay mad at him for long you blame his face.

“You know if we are to spend more time together in your office, we might need to think of a way to destress after all our hard work.”

Anthony raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Oh, and what do you suggest we do to... 'destress', love?" he asks, his voice dropping lower, a hint of something dark and suggestive in his tone.

“Hmmm something like this prehaps.” you say as you climb upon his lap giggling.

Anthony's breath hitches as you climb onto his lap, and he instinctively puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His eyes darken with desire as he looks up at you, a smirk on his lips.

"I like the way you think, love," he laughs, his hands traveling up your waist.

The staff can't help but overhear the sound of laughing and joyous voices coming from the gardens, and a wave of relief washes over them. After all, witnessing the viscount and viscountess argue and bicker wasn't a comforting sight for them. As they continue about their work, they can't help but feel glad that the tension between you and Anthony has been lifted, replaced instead by playful banter and laughter. A happy couple suited the viscount and viscountess a far lot better than a bickering one.

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

[facefullofsadness]

The world needs guitarist winter!! 🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥 (i die a little each time i see her with a guitar)

AGREE!!! everyday that has passed since 230225 winter playing guitar at synk hyper line in seoul for the first time has just been me trying to recover and seek guidance bc damn, she ruined my life and it's all I've been able to think about

content - rockstar guitarist!winter, best friend's sister!winter, dom!winter, includes txt members (beomgyu and yeonjun) and giselle, song references, smut (messy and wild sex, slight degradation, fingering, cunnilingus, strap-on usage, choking, breeding kink, quickies, squirting, vibrator usage, semi-public sex/voyeurism)

wc - 3122

a/n - a loaded one since it's been a while. I had sm fun writing this in general, but especially a certain part (I think u'll be able to tell when u get there), I was laughing my ass off so fking hard. also I just got a haircut that's very wolf-cut-y so it helped a whole bunch to get into writing this lol, committed to the bit!

winter's a damn good guitarist.

she's fuckinggg hotttt too when she plays and she knows it. watched a vid of her recently doing her guitar solo during girls and after the final riff she smirked at the camera and I LITERALLY COMBUSTED DEAR LORD.

anyway, I imagine her in a rock band, one with beomgyu, and they're both just the hot, wolf-cut, dark emo guitarists. you're the lead singer and front man of the band and were the reason the band formed in the first place. you were besties with beomgyu and you two wrote and composed music from time to time, always having the idea of a band as a passion project at the back of your minds.

eventually, gyu recruited his sister, minjeong. the three of you worked together diligently, recruiting yeonjun as a drummer who knew and dragged along aeri as a bassist. it was truly a dream come true, getting to pursue what you're passionate about the most with your best friend and a group of people just as enthusiastic as you were.

though, it was hard to focus with such a pretty girl like kim minjeong breathing down your neck at all times. you, beomgyu, and minjeong would primarily work together on music, usually going from the afternoon until after midnight hours. while minjeong was only a few months older than your best friend, she'd boss him around and push him to go home, saying it was late and that their mom needed to see at least one of them to know they were okay. he'd groan and complain about it, especially since you and him were the main collaborators for songs and were the best when you were together, but she'd always promise to take good care of you, whatever that meant (huehuehue).

beomgyu cares more about you as a little sister than he does his own sister so when he gets confirmation that she'll take care of you, he accepts it and goes home early, leaving you and minjeong in the studio alone. you bite your lip as you watch the door close, your friend leaving you behind with her.

"just you and me now, huh pretty?" the girl leans into you on the couch.

you shift uncomfortably at the close proximity and try to subtly scooch away, "uh yeah, I guess so... we should try to finish this arrangement before we get out of here."

you try your best to compose yourself and act professional, hearing minjeong's deep chuckle next to you, "alright then."

actually getting work done and writing some lyrics alongside figuring out the instrumental arrangement with minjeong since she's the other guitarist, besides beomgyu (also bc he left). you tell her that you get frustrated with the fact you're not that good at playing, her having asked why you don't just make the arrangements yourself. and so, she decides to teach you! well, "teach you."

placing her acoustic Silvertone on your lap and crawling up slowly behind you, her warm body pressed up against your back, the brush of her lips against your ear making you shiver. she brings her arms over and places her hands over yours, guiding them around the strings and assisting with the chords.

she whispers deep and raspy into your ear various instructions, "if you cover this entire fret and press down on these strings, you'll get the F Barre chord. it's a little difficult but nothing you can't manage, right princess?"

"the placement kinda hurts..." you complain, feeling the burn of the metal strings against your skin.

"it'll be a little painful when you start, but with practice you'll get better. you have to press down harder than that though," her pressing your fingers down harder against the nylon strings.

whining softly at the pain, making her lips come closer to your ear, "come on baby, you can do it, a little pain goes a long way. I know you can handle it."

a chill runs down your spine at her words, proceeding to repeatedly attempt to strum the chord correctly until the sound was full.

"good girl, it wasn't that bad right?" you turn to face her, her lips just centimeters away from yours.

your breath picks up at her proximity and a smirk tugs at her lips, moving her face into your neck and hotly sighing against it.

"how badly do you want it, hm? how badly do you want me to fuck you like a rockstar?"

your grip on her guitar tightens as her mouth trails around your neck, gasping when you feel her tongue drag across slowly.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"nothing you don't want me to already, sweetheart."

you lean into her touch, moving your hand away from the body of the guitar to lace your fingers through her soft wolf-cut hair, pulling her head in further into your neck, now placing wet kisses against the skin.

you suddenly shoot your eyes open at the realization of what you two are doing and stutter, "I-I don't think we should be doing th-this... we need to finish the arrangement... and also, y-your brother, what will h-he think?"

you stumble over your words as minjeong just hums in response to, continuing to leave sloppy marks across your neck, feeling her make hickeys on parts of your skin that wouldn't be noticeable.

"we have all the time in the world to finish the song. but what about gyu? did you want him instead then?" she asks, almost threateningly, challenging you to say yes.

in response, you whimper and pull her head in further towards your neck, practically begging her not to go away.

"don't you feel ashamed letting your best friend's sister do this to you? or are you just a slut?"

you don't answer, only shut your eyes and bite your lip. minjeong doesn't like that, resulting in her hand to pull you by the hair backwards, head facing the ceiling. your eyes shot open at the contact and you see her blown pupils staring into yours.

her voice comes out low and dark, "answer me whore. tell me what you are, I wanna hear you say it."

you gulp down a lump in your throat, debating if you should listen to her or to your morals. all sense jumps out the window when she sexily raises her eyebrow at you, an expectant expression sitting on her aroused face.

fuck it whatever, she's too fucking hot, "I'm your slut, minjeong, all yours."

finishing the arrangement? what a joke! she has your legs spread wide open on the soundboard, skillful fingers pumping in and out of your squelching cunt, your head thrown back, moaning into the hot air of the studio. her one hand plunging deep into your pussy while the other one is wrapped around your waist, holding you close, keeping your thighs propped open with her body. and she's just watching you, her mouth slightly open and lips a deep dark plump red, her messy hair tousled, bangs sticking to her sweaty forehead. she loves watching how your face contorts in response to her digits curling to hit that delicious spot in your hole, hitting it repeatedly, her palm slapping against your clit with every quick thrust of her hand. the sounds of your croaky moans, wet and clenching pussy, and her heavy breathing fill the sound-proof room, the thought of productivity not even grazing either of your minds.

the pleasure built so much, you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. minjeong quickened her pace as she felt your legs start to shake around her, sensing how close you were to cumming. it was all too much and you suddenly orgasmed, crying out moans with every wave of delight that surged through your body, thighs trembling, eyes rolled back and mouth hung open, your hands gripping her shoulders for dear life. she intently watched with a lustful stare at every expression your face made while you came, memorizing how good you looked when she fucked you. pulling her fingers out and collecting every drop of cum you leaked onto her hand and wrist, licking it clean until a thin sheet of her saliva remained.

"open your fucking mouth and stick your tongue out," she demanded with a deep voice.

you obeyed and gagged, feeling her tongue shove itself down your throat, forcefully swallowing her saliva and your cum. drool seeped out the sides of your lips as she continued her onslaught in your mouth, feeling her clothed hips grind against your sensitive clit, moans slipping out of your throat in the form of gags.

she'd pull away suddenly, tongue exiting your mouth with a wet slurping noise, making you cough. "you. are. mine. remember that."

she'd remind you, running her damp fingers through her hair.

these late night escapades continued to occur with every single long session held in the studio (she definitely recorded some audios of you guys fucking for sureeee). the creative part of you wanted beomgyu to stay and help with the music, but the sinful part of you so desperately wanted him to leave as soon as possible to have his sister all to yourself. your best friend never caught on to you and minjeong, but oh, yeonjun and aeri caught on like THAT. the tension between you two was so palpable, the two older members would side eye you during practices and giggle to each other, watching the two of you eye fuck from across the room.

eventually, the band's popularity would build and proceed to skyrocket, leading to your guys' first tour. tour meant performing together, traveling together, being with each other, and ultimately, tour meant being with minjeong. and so when management would get 3 hotel rooms for you all, 1 for the boys, 1 for the girls, and well, 1 for aeri being the sleeping beauty she is, rooming with minjeong meant a few things. practicing together, writing and composing together, and sleeping together (for the girls in the back, SEX).

throwing you onto the bed as soon as you reach your hotel room, tearing your clothes off and pinning you down, sloppily kissing each other. she'd prep you by eating you out, sticking her wet muscle inside of your leaking core, caressing your walls and flicking against your g-spot. you bit down hard on the pillow, muffling your moans as her thumb covered in her saliva rubbed against your throbbing clit. her pulling away right before you came and putting on a strap-on she brought on tour (for you of course!), wasting no time in thrusting it into you.

the pillow probably did nothing to silence your screams as she mercilessly fucked you into the mattress, hand pressing down on your lower stomach to feel her cock pumping in and out of you, the tip of her dick hitting your cervix again and again, her thumb still stimulating your clit. minjeong had your back arching, your hands flew everywhere, trying to grip onto anything to ground yourself, but nothing was enough, even as you screamed and bit down on your pillow. your eyes watered and your vision blurred as she rammed into you, the dark-haired girl moving her hands to wrap around your neck, choking you, gradually adding pressure with every rough thrust. her pants eventually became moans too, loving the feeling of the side of her strap hitting that delicious spot inside of her too, slapping her clit against yours as she bottomed out in you.

"I'm gonna fucking cum in you y/n, I'm gonna knock you up, fill you up until you're leaking both of us," minjeong growls above you, lowering her face to level with yours.

you feel tears fall down the sides of your face and your throat sore from another scream ripped out of you as well as her hands around your neck as she throws the pillow in your mouth onto the floor, attaching her mouth to yours instead. you cry onto her tongue as you orgasm against her strap, toes curling and legs wrapped around her waist, nails digging into minjeong's shoulders, cum gushing out of you as you feel her cock shoot fake ropes of white liquid into you, filling you up. you feel her shake in your arms too as she cums, her pleasure leaking out onto your thighs, soaking the bedsheets. she collapses on top of you, both of you desperately gasping for air, her dick still inside of you, keeping the fake cum from leaking out.

"good thing we have another bed."

of course being on tour also meant fucking in the green room before a performance. having done interviews all morning, having a concert for the tour tonight, minjeong was so mean! she had you wear a vibrator the entire day! it would be on the lowest setting up until the interviewer would ask you a question. she would turn up the intensity and you would squirm as you tried to answer, gripping your ripped jeans, almost causing another tear. and so when you two were left alone in the green room for just a minute, she took you right then and there, your legs wide open on the sofa, her mouth stimulating your clit while she increased the vibrator's setting to max, thrusting it in and out of you.

you were screaming in pleasure, all the built up tension in your stomach finally being relieved with each pump of the sex toy in your pussy. you clutched onto her leather jacket for dear life as you came all over her face, squirting everywhere. she licked as much as she could and you both worked quickly to clean before anyone came back. your members, staff, and the fans would notice you limping around on stage that night, winter with an especially evil smirk resting on her face.

being on tour also meant getting fingered in the bathroom backstage. it's literally 10 minutes to showtime, but minjeong NEEDED to fuck you now! her calloused fingers pumping in and out of you while you reciprocated fingering her too. both of your skirts hiked up and panties pushed to the side (no safety shorts? idk this is fiction, ignore it!), moaning desperately into each others mouths as you messily and sloppily made out against the bathroom stall door. curling your fingers at the same time, biting down on her lip while her fingernails dug into your thigh at the feeling. rolling your hips against her palm to stimulate your clit, her repeating the motion and pinning you harder to the door so that your bodies were flush against one another.

screaming into each other's mouths as you came at the same time, cum dripping down your wrist. quickly cleaning one another up (with your tongues, yup) and running to your places since there was literally THIRTY SECONDS to showtime! beomgyu confusedly looking at you two in frustration, asking where you guys had been, yeonjun and aeri rolling their eyes laughing, still lowkey irritated that you guys were LITERALLY FUCKING instead of getting ready to perform smh. everyone definitely noticed the redness in both of your cheeks. winter had fingered you with her calloused hand, the dampness making it more difficult to play the chords during that show, the band noticing the change in effectivity too (how technical!).

at some point, the fans would notice the tension between you two. who wouldn't ship the lead singer with the guitarist in a band anyway right? especially when it's the hot dark wolf-cut emo guitarist winter and the stunning pretty charismatic lead singer. but of course that wasn't the only reason, you guys were soooo obvious. you're singing the flirty and seductive lyrics towards her, minjeong returning a smirk back at you and sticking her tongue out while she fingerpicks her guitar, raising her eyebrows when she does. trailing your fingertips over her bare skin in skimpy outfits they'd put her in onstage, singing the lyrics into her ears.

or literally just flat out fucking saying it. like having those soundcheck Q&As where fans would ask you questions like "if you were to date one of the members, who would you date?"

answering each other's names at the same time, causing everyone to laugh in the audience, beomgyu gagging, and yeonjun and aeri holding back laughter. minjeong following up by saying something like "I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before." LIKE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?

or when you and winter are in an interview and they ask what the inspiration was behind a particular song, let's say a more sexy song, and she responds first, "well, every song that we've written has influences from our own personal experiences."

the interviewer would be like, "so then is it true when you sing quote 'I might fuck your friend, I made my mind up'?"

you blush profusely and winter just dies laughing, "I'll let you guys decide that one."

"y/n, you wrote "we go for hours and it's still good" correct?" the interviewer continues.

"yes yes but the details don't really matter do they?" you nervously laugh while minjeong drills holes into the side of your head, staring at you with a playful and sinister smirk on the side.

my favorite headcanon to think about is online discourse regarding you and minjeong. your guys' new mv dropped for your latest single and there are a bunch of scenes with you and winter acting like an angsty couple in the rain, making up in the end by having an alluded to sex scene (lmao, wild if this actually would ever happen).

I just imagine twt going INSANEEE.

slut4winter: DID Y/N AND WINTER FUCK AT THE END OF THE VIDEO?!?!?

y/nonechancepls: i literally cannot defend minjeong and y/n anymore...

beomgyuswolfcut: bro, winter fr cucked her brother from y/n 😭😭

aerifuckinguchinaga: win-y/n's chemistry is a lil too real yall 💀

drumjunyeonjun: not them saying it was their fav scene to film, the closet is made out of AIR, IM SICK OF U F WORDS !!!

and of course, despite all of this, your dear bestie and minjeong's brother doesn't catch on. at times, beomgyu will be all what the fuck is going on when you two say something that has double entendre or has some sort of underlying meaning.

yeonjun usually just pats him on the back while laughing, "oh my friend, never change, never change."

aeri being such a nosy friend LOVES hearing you rant about it, chin propped up on her fist, leaning forward against the table, a cheeky grin on her face. with every spicy detail, she's always just like, "girllll, you're insane and wild, but good for you!"

a/n - like rq, through a guitarist pov, winter is so attractively good at guitar it pisses me off. also headcanon songs this band would make are like wdywfm by the neighbourhood, sex by the 1975, do I wanna know by arctic monkeys, and slow down by chase atlantic. incredibly self indulgent hc and WHAT ABOUT IT!!

[the-marshals-wife]

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watched it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.

Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746

Gif credit: user magnusedom

Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him

There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.

Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.

"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"

"Court!"

You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.

"May I come in?" he gestures.

You grab his arm and usher him inside.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.

"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."

"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"

"What?"

"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"

You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.

"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation, think again, buster."

He wraps his arms around your waist.

"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."

"I must be stunning then," you smirk.

He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."

The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.

"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in the microwave."

"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.

"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."

He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.

Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.

"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"

You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"

"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."

"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.

"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."

He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.

"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."

He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."

Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.

"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."

"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.

"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."

You stare at him wide-eyed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."

"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."

He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"

You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.

"Come away with me, Y/N."

He takes your hand in his.

"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."

His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.

"Well, when you put it that way," you say.

You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.

"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"

"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."

"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.

Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.

Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"How much time do we have?" you ask.

"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.

"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"

"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."

You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?

Old life. The thought makes your head spin.

"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."

"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."

"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."

All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.

He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.

"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.

"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"

He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."

"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.

"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.

"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.

"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."

You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."

"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.

You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.

"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.

"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.

You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.

"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.

Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.

He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."

You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.

"Shut up and help me pack."

He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.

"Yes ma'am."

[my-mind-is-incognito]

Wanna Duet? (Hugh Jackman x Reader)

summary: you're an interviewer sitting down with 2 of the hottest celebrities, both fresh off their latest movie. during the interview, one of them feels the need to shake up the script a bit

warnings: None that I can think of, other than intense yearning for an unattainable man (tbh isn't that why we read and write these sort of things anyway?)

author's note: Um, hi. It's been a couple of years since I've contributed to this site and this particular blog, other than reblogging other people's much more notable work. But the new deadpool movie, as well as Hugh Jackman, has literally got me hostage by the ovaries and I just needed to put this random fantasy into words and put it out there into the world. Please be gentle. I haven't written anything in years and it is so weird to me now.

When you call my name

It’s like a little prayer

I’m down on my knees

I wanna take you there

In the midnight hour

I can feel your power

Just like a prayer

I wanna take you there

The lyrics to that familiar song softly tumbled from your lips as you studied the notecards in your hand while your shoulders softly rocked to the beat. You wanted to make sure the questions were etched in your brain; as a journalist tasked with interviewing celebrities, you needed to maintain your A-game when it came to these video shoots with the Hollywood elite. You couldn’t afford to stumble over your words or, even worse, have an awkward silence creep into the conversation. 

A knock at the door brought you out of your reverie, and Maggie, the producer, poked her head in. “They just arrived,” she informed you. “Ten minutes.”

You flashed her a thumbs up and got out of your seat to loosen your stiff muscles and fight the enormous grin spreading across your face. Today’s scheduled shoot was one you were particularly looking forward to: a simple sit down interview with two of the hottest stars, fresh off the premiere of one of the most anticipated movies of 2024. Somewhere on the premises, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds were waiting to speak to you, and your Marvel-loving heart was hammering in your chest in anticipation. The butterflies were certainly in hyperactive manic mode today. 

Maggie studied you with a laugh. “Excited, are we?”

“Aren’t you? We’re about to meet Deadpool and Wolverine!” You took a few deep breaths, channeling your professional side. But soon, the facade fell and you were grinning like a jittery idiot. ”How are they? Are they as ridiculously gorgeous in person?”

Maggie grinned. “Yes, plus super nice. Definitely making the top 10 nicest guests list. Hurry up and get out there.” She then left and shut the door behind her.

Biting back the urge to squeal, you took a few composing breaths and willed your heart to stop racing like a schoolgirl in love. Picking up your phone, you started scrolling your phone for a song. Singing was always a typical warm-up exercise for you; it helped you loosen up and provided an outlet for your nervous energy. Showtunes were usually your go-to songs, and you had a particular soundtrack stuck in your head for the past few weeks. 

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for,” you sang softly, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. “Been searching in the dark, your sweat soaking through the floor.”  Another hip wiggle on beat as you spun on your heel and held out a dramatic fist in the air. “And buried in your bones, there’s an ache that you can’t ignore, taking your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind…

Don’t fight it’s coming for you, runnin’ at ya

It’s only this moment, don’t care what comes after

Your fever dream, can’t you see it gettin’ closer?

just surrender cuz you feel the feeling takin’ over

It’s fire, it’s freedom, it’s flooding open

It’s a preacher in the pulpit and your blind devotion

There’s something breaking at the brick of every wall it’s holding

All that you know

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Where it’s covered in all the colored lights

Where the runaways are running the night

Impossible comes tre, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!

We light it up, we won’t come down

And the sun can’t stop us now

Impossible comes true, it’s taking over you

Oh, this is the greatest show!”

You blew out one more calming breath and grinned with confidence before striding out the door. Time to get to work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So I’m sitting there, my brain melting in my skull from all these fucking hot wings, and the first sentence out of my mouth is ‘I CHEAT AT WORDLE!’”

You and Hugh burst out into laughter as Ryan recounted his and Hugh’s recent experience on Hot Ones. As expected, the interview was going without a hitch. Both men were excellent subjects, genuinely enjoying the process and providing laughs amongst the crew in between the Q+A. Their bestie banter and overall chemistry was so contagious that it brought everyone at ease. And also as expected, both men gave you the urge to subtly fan yourself with your notecards. While both had the leading man looks, Ryan had a dry wit and a delivery that was deadpan and entirely on point, never failing to get a laugh from everyone in the room. Meanwhile, Hugh had a megawatt smile and an Aussie timber in his voice that had you shivering in your chair, and his laughter was as warm and pure as sunshine itself.

“So, Hugh, you’ve mentioned how you were still doing Music Man when you were cast to return as Wolverine. Did the mental and physical preparation for this role clash with your preparations for your Music Man performances?”

Hugh chuckled. “It’s funny you mentioned that, because I had actually lost a bit of weight while doing Music Man. I mean, it’s eight shows a week and each show is a cardio workout like nothing else! So I had to start increasing my calories and, you know, pumping iron in between shows and it got to the point where I actually split my pants onstage during a show!”

You gasped while Ryan just shook his head and laughed. “Yes, the legendary Jackman ass returned, as jacked as ever!” Ryan snarked, which had Hugh guffawing. “Oh, easy there, buddy. No need to break a hip on top of that.”

You futilely hid your laughs behind your notecards, genuinely enjoying this experience. “Well, guys, this has been an absolute pleasure. As a Marvel fan myself, this movie has been long awaited and completely worth it. Any parting words you’d like to leave the audience before we sign off?”

”Actually,” Ryan suddenly interjected, shooting an offhanded smirk at Hugh, “I had a question for you.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Wait, really? For me?” you asked, confused. 

”Yeah, betcha didn’t see this coming, but yes, the tables have in fact been turned. The interviewee is now the interviewer.” Ryan crossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap, smiling mischievously. “See, I happened to be skittering around backstage, and whilst—“

”Whilst?”

”Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking, Hugh Bear. It’s very rude. Yes, whilst skittering back there, I happened to pick up on some backstage karaoke from a certain interviewer.”

Your eyes widened and you hid your gaping mouth behind your hand. “Oh God.”

“Do you deny it?”

“You heard that?!”

Ryan pointed an accusatory finger at you. “Don’t your DARE hide that angelic voice from us, ma’am!”

Hugh switched his focus between you and Ryan. “Wait, did I miss something? What’s happening?”

”Dude, get this. I heard her singing Greatest Showman in the back and she sounds amazing!” Ryan nudged Hugh before holding out a hand to you reassuringly while you continued to gape. 

“Is that right?” Hugh inquired, interest piqued.

You laughed nervously, shielding your face in your hands. In the back of your mind, you wondered if your makeup was good enough to hide the flush spreading across your face. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” 

“Please don’t confuse my enthusiasm for mockery!” Ryan was quick to say, holding out a reassuring hand. “Honestly, I had chills hearing you. Your voice is gorgeous! And clearly you have excellent music tastes due to your song choices. Seriously, I loved it!” Ryan gushed. “My question is, where did you learn to sing? Like, I’m literally jealous because out of the three of us sitting here, I have no musical talent whatsoever, and my singing usually results in children crying. But yours just sounds so good!”

”I wanna hear her sing now,” Hugh remarked cheerfully. “High praise from Ryan is definitely a good voucher.”

“Oooh, that would be so great, Hugh. You could audition her, because her choreo needs a little bit of work. Kinda limited, but I’m sure your rusty hips still got enough wiggle in them to teach her something.”

Both men laughed and leaned forward, their attention on you, and you couldn’t help but cower behind your papers and burst into another fit of panicked giggles. “I have no idea what is happening right now,” you remarked shyly.

Ryan got out of his seat and stood beside you. “Audition jitters, I get them all the time. Here, I’ll coach you through it!” He cleared his throat and adopted a more professional tone, gesturing between you and Hugh. “Alright, so you are at your callback audition. The casting director—obviously, that’s me—liked your stuff and now I wanna do a little screen test with our leading man—that’ll be Hugh.” 

At this, Hugh leaned forward and shook your hand warmly. “Hey there, I’m Hugh Jackman. I’ll be doing this scene with ya.”

You shot a quick glance at Maggie, who silently urged you to play along. So you chuckled and firmly shook Hugh’s hand. “Pleasure to be working with you, sir.” He replied with a warm smile that made your stomach somersault.

Ryan clapped his hands. “Alright! We are looking for some chemistry between our two leads. Let’s see, what’s a good duet song?” He eyed you expectedly. “I won’t ask Hugh, because the man is a neverending jukebox of showtunes. Now’s your chance to put a quarter in him and pick a song.”

You fidgeted in your seat, pausing to think before replying, “Okay, if we are going to do this, I just want to get this off my chest. Hugh, I am a HUGE fan, not just of your work as Wolverine, but your musical roles as well.” In response, he patted his heart and mouthed ‘thank you’ while Ryan rolled his eyes and made the yak-yak motion with his hand.

You continued. “So, if we could, and this is something I’ve always wanted to do…could we sing ‘A Million Dreams’ from Greatest Showman together?”

His eyes lit up and he nodded. “Yeah! I’d love that!” 

You practically bounced in your seat, shaking out your hands in pure excitement while a huge grin spread across your face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening!”

Hugh got out of his chair and gestured for you to do the same, which you did quickly. “Gotta make it like a real audition,” he informed you with a wink that got you giggling.

Ryan scooted his own chair back and sat back in it, much like a director overseeing a scene. “Okay, are we all good? Pay no attention to the multiple cameras looking at you or the lights beaming down at you, mmkay? It’s most likely nothing new for you. And…action!”

Hugh made a big show of clearing his throat a few times. “Sorry, I’m not warmed up,” he said.

“No one cares, Hugh.”

“And there isn’t any music.”

“Still not caring, Hugh.”

“Thanks, Ryan.”

With the rest of the crew laughing, Hugh finally took your hand in his and, gazing into your eyes, began to sing:

Every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

A million dreams are keeping me awake

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

Oh, a million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

You were mesmerized by his singing. Listening to him on recording did absolutely no justice for him. Never in a million years (no pun intended) did you think this could be happening to you, that Hugh Jackman could be singing one of your favorite songs directly to you. You forced yourself to focus on your breathing and remember your cue. And when it came, you were more than ready to belt out:

However big, however small

Let me be part of it all

Share your dreams with me

Ryan was flashing you a thumbs up while the rest of the crew were cheering you on. Hugh was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself.

You may be right, you may be wrong

But say that you’ll bring me along

To the world you see

Hugh nodded encouragingly, joining in:

To the world I close my eyes to see

I close my eyes to see

He got down on one knee, clutching his chest dramatically as he still held your hand.

‘Cause every night I lie in bed

The brightest colors fill my head

You grinned in reply and posed cutely in response.

A million dreams are keeping me awake

A million dreams, a million dreams!

As he shot back up, he spun you around, and the two of you both dramatically sang back to back, harmonizing on the final verse.

I think of what the world could be

A vision of the one I see

A million dreams is all it’s gonna take

A million dreams for the world we’re gonna make

As you held that last note, you felt Hugh wrap his arms around your shoulders. Knowing your role, you smiled and leaned against him.

For the world we’re gonna make

The end of the song was met with thunderous applause from everyone on set, with Ryan being particularly enthusiastic in his clapping. “You got the part!” he exclaimed.

You laughed breathlessly as you and Hugh separated. You clutched your face, grounding yourself from the incredible high you were flying on, all while that silly smile on your face still shone brightly. 

Hugh clapped you on the shoulder. “Very well done!” he remarked. “I’ll be sure to keep you on call as my backup leading lady.”

“Oh my god, stop,” you beamed, still a bit breathless. “Karaoke is one thing, but I dunno about leading lady stuff.”

He smiled and gently kissed your hand. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he replied with a wink.

Maggie caught your eye from behind the camera, signaling you to wrap it up. Remembering your job, you quickly looked at the camera and said, “Uh, Deadpool and Wolverine is out in theaters now! Many thanks to Hugh and Ryan for joining us today!”

“Cut!” Maggie announced.

And thus ended probably THE most exhilarating interview of your entire career!

[cherimoyatea]

𝑪𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖… – A sequel to Tipsy

Pairing: Rafayel x You Synopsis: Sequel to Rafayel's Tender Moments, Tipsy. You miss him like crazy and send him a song that reminds you of him while being away for two months. Tags: Fluff, Romance, Long-Distance Relationship, Music related theme, Confessing. A little teasing from Rafayel’s end (no smut or anything). Oh, and I made a little reference to his 5 Stars Card Floral Promise if you notice. Word Count: 2677K Side Notes: So, I had this little fic in my head after listening to Can't Stop Loving You by Artemas shortly after Tipsy was released, and decided to write it down eventually. I recommend listening to the song to enhance the experience, but it's okay if you don't. Or maybe you enjoy the song and don’t like the story; that’s also fine. 🩷 Also: While I’m not new to writing, I don’t consider myself as professional as other writers. I appreciate constructive criticism as much as kind words, if you have any! 💕 Okay, here we go~

It's been six weeks since Rafayel saw you off at the airport and you boarded the plane that took you away from him. Six weeks since you saw his cheeky grin or his endearing pout in person. Six weeks since you sank into his arms or breathed in his familiar scent. And only two weeks left until your time at the training camp is finally over.

Yes, you were allowed to use your phone on weekends, and you counted down the days until Friday would finally turn into Saturday again so you could spend hours talking to him. But it wasn't the same, was it? It only made you miss him more...

You sigh deeply as you lie in the bed of your shared room. It's late, past midnight and it started raining a couple of hours ago. Your roommate, another Hunter, is fast asleep while you toss and turn in your sheets, unable to find sleep. Though you were used to being apart sometimes due to your irregular missions and Rafayel's busy schedule, this was the first time you hadn't seen each other for almost two months. It was harder than you had expected, and you only survived the intense training and nerve-wracking tasks during the week because you knew you'd be able to communicate with him soon. Lost in thought, you subconsciously grip the necklace around your neck, feeling the weight of the locket he gifted you on your last evening before your trip. Recalling how sad and lonely he looked, almost pleading for you not to forget him, makes your heart ache even more.

Rafayel did his best to support you from afar, by holding back his desire for you to return to him and showering you with encouraging words instead. His lingering gaze would always betray him whenever he looked at you through the phone, playfully responding in his usual cheeky way as you talked about the tough training, strict rules, and how sore your body felt. He looked at you with a sense of loneliness that tore at your heart in ways you never thought was possible. While his lips curled into a bright smile, pretending he was busy with his artwork, he was probably running a countdown on his phone, counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until you were back.

Only the constant ticking of the clock on your wall reminds you of how much time has passed since you lay down and started listening to the faint droplets tapping on your windows. You still have a few hours left until Monday morning, so you grab your wireless headphones from the nightstand and connect them to your phone. Opening the music app, you hope it will help distract you from your aching...

🎶 And the sirens sang out the sweetest lullaby It's the best I've slept in a hundred thousand nights I couldn't help myself I was hoping you would love me one more time... 🎶

...but as the soft strokes of the piano resound in your ears, you feel your heart sink further, unable to stop your thoughts from drifting to the purple-haired man you love. Every line of the song you're hearing reminds you of him and how much you long for him. Was he still awake? Maybe you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep. Without a second thought, you tap the share button on your screen and send the song to your beloved.

🎶 I'm perfectly sane, I'm fine Do you think I've lost my mind? You shouldn't be surprised Swear that I just really miss you I'd go to hell just to kiss you And I've got a couple of issues... 🎶

Your eyes grow heavier as you look at the picture of Rafayel on your nightstand, with your phone being the only source of light in your otherwise pitch-black room. It's one of the pictures you brought with you–the ones that Rafayel accidentally found and teased you about the day before you left for the training camp. You would usually hide them inside the drawer of your nightstand after your roommate caught a glimpse and almost spat out her tongue in surprise. But tonight, you decided to leave his framed picture out to find little comfort in those sunset eyes.

"Wait! Your boyfriend is Rafayel?! The renowned artist, Rafayel?? No way!!"

You chuckle quietly as you remember your roommate's wide eyes and open mouth when you asked her to keep it confidential, nodding at you excitedly. While you feel proud to be his girlfriend, causing a fuss at your training camp is the last thing you want.

''...only two weeks left... hold on, MC.''

Another sigh escapes your lips in an attempt to embolden yourself. You grab Rafayel's photo from your nightstand and give the framed version of your beloved a gentle kiss before pressing it against your chest, feeling your heart flutter at the mere thought of reuniting with him in just a few weeks. Soon, your heavy eyelids eventually close, and you drift off with the frame pressed against you, succumbing to a short, yet deep sleep.

Another week passes while your daily routine in the camp is dominated by lectures, training sessions, and intensive sports units. Like every Monday morning, you and the other hunters have to hand over your phones to your supervisors to avoid distractions and stay focused on the tasks ahead. So when you finally get your phone back on this Saturday noon, you can't wait to talk to your beloved and see his beautiful smile again.

After taking a shower, you are dressed neat as a pin, prepared for a long video chat as you tap on his name in your contact list, your heart beating in anticipation.

No answer.

''Huh?'' You frown and take a quick look at your watch. It's exactly 2 p.m., the time you both agreed on for your chatting dates. He usually picks up after the first ring and greets you with his cheerful smile, but this time is different.

You try again, but the line seems busy, and after a while, your call goes directly to his Voicemail, only adding to your confusion. The rest of the day is clouded with restless thoughts while you try to call him over and over. Your mood switches from worry to frustration, then back to sadness and irritation as you consider all the possible reasons why he stood you up.

The other hunters left hours ago to spend their free day in the town center while you declined the offer to join them and stayed back to talk to your boyfriend. But now, you bury your sulking face in your pillow and feel like crying as your phone remains silent. His phone was dead–no messages, no emails, nothing.

Hours have passed, and you're still lying on your stomach with your phone next to your pillow. As you hear your roommate enter the room after her trip to the city center, you reluctantly turn onto your back, forcing a smile to hide the disappointment you feel.

''You missed something! There was a little fair today with all kinds of snacks and street food!''

You listen patiently as your roommate excitedly describes the food stalls she and the other hunters visited, but in reality, you just want to sulk in peace.

''Oh! You wouldn't believe it! I saw someone today who resembled your boyfriend!''

You perk up your ears and look at your roommate with a surprised expression, lifting your upper body onto your elbows slightly. Rafayel? She must be mistaken.

''You're seeing ghosts; there's no way he could be here.'' You say, shaking your head with a slightly irritated smile as you shift your gaze back to the ceiling with a deep sigh. He probably just fell asleep after pulling another all-nighter and forgot to charge his phone.

''Yeah, I guess so. Because when I approached him and asked for an autograph, he drew an ugly pot on the back of my hand instead!'' Your roommate pouts as she lifts her hand, showing you the drawing. ''I mean, if he really were your artist boyfriend, he could've done better than a hideous doodle, right?''

''A pot?'' Your eyes widen as you recognize the drawing on your roommate’s hand. You jump up from your bed and grab her wrist, taking in the fine strokes you know so well. The resemblance is uncanny…

''This… this is not a pot! It's a fish head!''

You grab her shoulders, shaking your roommate desperately as your cheeks flush. Could it be? Was he really here? ''Where did you meet him? Around what time? Please, I need to know!''

After a brief description from your puzzled roommate, you storm out, rushing through the hallway of the dorm. Your heart races as you leave the camp, desperately trying to find your beloved. It's already getting dark outside and you wrap your long cardigan tighter around your body. Although the days are summery and warm, the evening chill sets in, signaling the change of the seasons. You just pass through the huge gates of the camp when you suddenly feel someone grab your shoulder from behind. You flinch at the unexpected approach and turn around to stare into a pair of familiar pink-blue eyes–the ones you've been longing to see.

''Gotcha!'' Rafayel grins at you, his bright smile wide as he takes in your surprised expression. He is holding a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers with the wrapping paper slightly crinkled.

''Rafayel!? It’s you! It’s really you!'' Your heart skips a beat as you look at him, your eyes wide, hoping they aren't just playing tricks on you. After all the yearning, he's really standing in front of you, his lilac bangs swaying gently in the evening breeze as the last rays of light quietly disappear behind the horizon. ''What… what are you doing here? Why are you here?''

''Why am I here? For you, dummy!'' He pokes your cheek, still amused by your baffled expression, trying to play it cool while his own heart bursts with joy at seeing you again. He hands you the bouquet with an apologetic smile as he notices the crinkled wrapping paper. You feel his sweaty palms brush against yours and can't help but wonder if he's a bit nervous. As if reading your thoughts, he clears his throat and quickly pulls his hands away.

''I heard the song you texted me last Sunday, and while I couldn’t ask you directly, I spent the whole week analyzing the lyrics.... and then eventually came here to ask you personally.''

You feel flustered as you recall sending him the song, not expecting it would lead to such a big gesture. Quickly, you change the subject. ''What about the fish head you drew on my colleague's hand? What was that for? You stood me up on our date earlier, and your phone was off! You could have at least texted me!''

Rafayel's bright smile fades into a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, lowering his head slightly. ''Yeah, my bad. I was thinking about a surprise visit, but everything went wrong. I spent the whole day arguing with your authorities and making calls, but they're super strict and don't allow anyone inside their camp. So, I had to find a way to make you come to me instead... without ruining the surprise, you know?''

He rubs his chin thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the side as he recalls the day's events. ''Then my phone died, and I overheard a group talking about the tough training while I was in town, buying a power bank. I was about to approach them when a girl tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was your boyfriend. That's when I knew she must be the roommate you mentioned. But I didn't want to draw attention, so I doodled the same pot ehm-I mean fish head that you once drew on my hand. I knew you'd recognize it and come out to look for me!''

As you listen to him, your eyes widen in disbelief. All this trouble–just because of a song you sent in a moment of emotion?

''Okay, but Raf... you could have simply asked me on the phone why I sent you the song. It's actually pretty straightforward. The lyrics are about missing someone, and...''

Your words get caught in your throat, heat rising in your cheeks. Shifting your gaze away, you nervously fiddle with your sleeve, trying to come up with something that would feel less embarrassing to confess.

''…and? And what, cutie?'' Rafayel raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes, his smile softening. It's clear you're struggling to finish your sentence with your cheeks turning pink as you avoid his gaze.

''Let me help you. After analysing the lyrics and playing the song on a loop for hours, I concluded that someone must be madly in love to send a song like this during the early morning hours. After all, that’s what the title says… 'Can't Stop Loving You', isn't it?''

He leans in and gives you a soft peck on your warm cheek, catching you completely off guard. ''Now that we've solved this mystery, there’s something else I need to know…''

Your heart nearly skips a beat as you look up at him, still flustered, lips slightly parted. He's so close, that you can feel his breath on your flushed face, stirring something deep inside you. You gulp and nod, waiting patiently for the words to form on his pretty lips.

Rafayel's lips are inches away from yours, and his beautiful eyes darken as he whispers, making your knees go weak. ''Tell me… do you really memorise every freckle on my back?''

Another lyric reference. Great.

With an amused chuckle, he suddenly pulls away and winks at you, a smug grin on his face. You groan and roll your eyes, trying to hit his chest playfully, only for him to catch your wrist midair.

''You! Stop teasing me!!'' You pout, feeling a little disappointed that he fooled you and ruined the romantic atmosphere. But you can't help but chuckle along with him. He always knew how to brighten your mood and keep you on your toes, and you adore that carefree side of him. But as the hand holding your wrist loosens it's grip, your smile falters when you notice the watch on your wrist–it's almost 9 p.m. You need to be back before 10 p.m. to avoid getting into trouble for breaking camp rules.

''You didn't need to fly all the way to me, Rafayel... I'm so happy to see you, but… I need to go back in a while. You troubled yourself for nothing…'' You lower your gaze, a sad smile on your lips as you feel his slender fingers grip your chin, gently lifting your head to meet his gaze.

''What else am I supposed to do when I want to see you? It's not like I can cast your name like a spell and have you magically appear before me, huh?'' he says, as his expression softens. Rafayel locks eyes with you, cupping your cheeks in his freezing hands. While you can feel his thumbs caressing your skin, you almost tear up from the rush of love swelling in your heart as you realise how long he must have been waiting for you outside for his hands to be this cold.

He leans in, resting his forehead gently against yours, whispering softly as his hands find yours, holding them firmly. ''I heard you calling out for me and I followed... simple as that. And I would do it again, even if it means seeing you for only a moment…''

Your grip on the bouquet tightens as you look up at him, emotions flooding over you. A warm smile spreads across your lips as you finally find your voice again, your words faintly whispered.

''We still have one hour left... let's go somewhere warm, shall we?''

Thank you for reading!

Cheri 🍒

[thirstydemisexual]

Blood path || Jason Todd x vampire!reader

Prologue

divider by: @sister-lucifer

PSA: the povs will switch from second to third person as convenient. also I'm writing this as I go so yeah the pacing between the parts hopefully will be coherent

warnings: 18+ content, mention of r4pe, blood, a p3do getting what the fuck he deserves, (and bad grammar)

I've made mistakes, Lord struck me down Caught in a landslide, lost underground I hear them gates, swing open loud Come close to midnight, hell fade me down - Used To The Darkness by Des Rocs

The night was young. As the last shades of orange had just dissipated in the sky, Gotham prepared itself as their usual over abundance of criminals took to the streets. Some of them tho, were busy browsing on the internet, unlucky them.

Phil, 38, child predator who escaped Arkham a couple weeks prior, sneaking away as the Bat and the other heroes took care of the bigger fishes, was browsing on the dark web, looking on his phone at his favorite source of inappropriate child videos with a fist down his pants.

The abandoned building in which he resided, which was once an apartment complex before a villain attack, was located in a rather well populated zone of Gotham. Only two streets down from The Wayne foundation preschool.

Unlucky for him, his connection wasn't the most secure. Even a high schooler with basic computer science knowledge would have been able to dox him.

The dumb fuck didn't even try locking the door, not like it had a functional lock to begin with. But non the less, she still wouldn't be stopped by a mere lock as that men's refuge wasn't his home, thus the threshold didn't bound her. She was able to sneak into the premises without as much as a sound.

She was hungry and her face was morphed into an inhuman shape.

He doesn't even have time to scream or fight as her fangs sinks in his neck, tearing his carotid artery. Long claws shredding up the skin on his forearms as he tries to reach to stop his attacker. He stops squirming in seconds as she feasts on his blood, draining him in mere moments.

After she's done she quickly leaves the building, ready to go home and wash her hands and mouth throughly as just the mere thought of having touched that individual, let alone feeding from him, in her post feeding shame(and because of than mans nature) made her regret her choice of feeding.

Although she would never regret ridding the world of scum like him.

It was a weirdly sunny day in Gotham, Jason Todd noticed as he turned off the engine of his motorcycle after parking in the Gotham University parking lot.

Last night patrol had took a tool on him, and he was more exhausted than normal. He threw his book bag on his shoulder before entering the building, toward his first class of the day.

Jason normally quite enjoyed his Modern Literature class, but today all he wanted to do was crush on his bed at his safe house and sleep away until patrol hour came.

He sat down in one of the last rows in the room and crossed his arms on the desk before laying his head down and closing his eyes, he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

"Slept bad?" a familiar voice came from his side. Jason lifted his head up, a little smile at the realization of who it was.

"You could say that" His eyes didn't leave you as you sat down next to him and started to get your stuff ready for class.

"You could have skipped class today Jay, you seem way too tired to be here"

"And miss the chance to have our daily banter, no way miss" he replied, smirk on his face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Seriously Jay, you can't keep coming to class looking like a zombie"

well technically I am a living dead so its not that out of character for me, thought Jason but didn't voice it out to her.

"I'll take a nap between classes alright? Come on, don't act like you wouldn't miss me if I were to go back home"

"You're incorrigible Todd"

"I don't hear you denying my claim" he kept smirking at you, you shushed him as the professor started class.

"Just rest your eyes, I'll give you my notes later" he chuckled a bit as he put his head down on the desk again,

"You'd be a light saver sweetheart"

If you could blush, the nickname would have done it. You tried to stay concentrated but your gaze would often stray onto Jason's figure, slumped over the deck, neck slightly exposed.

Looking so appetizing

You mentally slap yourself as you divert your eyes. That is Jason, one of your only friends NOT a charcuterie board.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You didn't know why but even after feeding the thought and sight of Jason Todd just riled you up, hunger rising through your undead body and plaguing your mind.

Hopefully you'll keep being able to control yourself around him.

You have to

TAG LIST: @deimks , @amber-content , @deans-spinster-witch , @that-one-goblin , @snowy-violet , @thenightwingnerd , @zffhahaa

Ask in the comments to be added to the taglist

[silassinclair]

Making up with ID! Leon after an argument? (fluff?)

Of course anon! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3 Sorry it took so long to respond I've been busy asf. Anyways this one is pretty short because I didn't really know what to write. CW// Alcoholism, Arguing, Jealousy

Masterlist Here!!

Workaholism

ID!Leon x Reader

You knew what you were getting into when you married Leon Kennedy. Whether it be helping him fight alcohol addiction or cuddling close in the midnight hour. You fell in love with every part of him and adored him for it. But sometimes he would really be a stubborn old pain in the ass. Especially right now.

"Leon I really miss you. I understand you have a really intense job but you don't have to take this mission! The mission was optional yet you took it on anyways. And in December too? I want to spend Christmas with you." You say, pouring your heart out into every word. You two have been at it for over an hour.

But there was no winning with your workahoic husband. He was as stubborn as a bull. And when he wanted things his way he would get it. But you couldn't let him win without putting up a fight, there was always a chance after all. This is for his own good. The hours he put in were unhealthy and you see the tolls it takes on his body.

"Y/n." Leon utters lowly. "I need to do this. Who else will?" He was sitting on the couch manspread; pouring himself a glass of bourbon. You've been helping him fight alcohol for years but here he is drinking right in front of you. He may as well spit on you because of how blatantly disrespectful he's being.

You're standing in front of him arms crossed and hands clenching your biceps. You're at your limit right now, there's only so much you can take. Everything feels hot; your throat, your eyes, and the grip you have on yourself.

"Leon do you not want to be with me? That you'd rather fight bioweapons than spend Christmas with you wife?"

The annoyed groan Leon lets out only makes you feel 100x worse. If this is what he wants then fine. What was the point in even trying anymore? If you two did spend Christmas together it would probably be miserable knowing his attitude.

Walking to the other end of the couch you plop down in defeat. "Forget it." You mutter. "Spending Christmas together would only make us both miserable. Just go do your job, I'll spend Christmas with someone else."

Leon turns to face you, his attention off his drink for once. "Someone else?"

You nod with an eyeroll. "Yeah, I'd rather not spend the holiday alone so I'll spend it with someone else."

"Who?" He mutters darkly.

"Well Chris is taking off so I'll spend time with him and Claire if she's available to-"

The sound of Leon's glass slamming down onto the coffee table makes you halt in your words. Leon was pissed before but now he looks downright enraged.

"No way in fucking hell am I letting my wife spend Christmas with another man." He seethes, now standing over you with either hand by the sides of your head on the couch.

You on the other hand are sitting stark still. Like one move would cause the cobra to strike.

"What else am I supposed to do then?" You say softly. Leon has never been this mad at you before and you were honestly scared.

Leon exhales through his nose slowly and shuts his eyes. "Baby do you know why I've been putting in all the extra hours?" He questions, answering your question with one of his own.

"Because you want to keep the world safe?" You mutter hesitantly. But Leon only chuckles and shakes his head back and forth. He opens his eyes and looks down at you with a crooked smile.

"Yes and no." His hand moves to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. "The world is only worth saving because you're in it. But the reason I work so much is so I can provide for you. Every cent counts because I wanna spoil you baby."

His words make you deflate. All the anger built up over the past hour from arguing has left your body.

"Leon..." You whisper; but his lips kiss yours in a soft, quick, peck and you're immediately silenced again.

"I wanna provide for you sweetness. I hate imagining you cooped up alone in this apartment while I'm out. I wanna see you in a big open kitchen just like you wanted. A living room with a grand fireplace and closet to hold all those sexy clothes I love seeing you doll yourself up in."

He sighs and looks down off to the side. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before I just... It's embarrassing. Being unable to provide for you."

You frown firmly and hold his face in place causing his blue eyes to widen.

"It's your turn to listen to me now Kennedy." You state. "Don't put yourself down like that you hear me?"

He gasps when you pull him into a hug. Your fingers rake through his silken blonde locks and your other hand rubs calming circles into his back.

"Don't ever feel like you're not doing enough for me. I don't need fancy things to be happy okay? I need you to be happy. So instead of working so hard to afford fancy shit, work less so we can spend time together. Because you're all I really want."

Leon sighs shakily and cradles the back of your head, bringing you into the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry baby... I just want what's best for you."

You reply softly, "You're what's best for me Leon."

He brings you into a passionate kiss. One the two of you have been needing for a long time. His lips taste like cheap liquor and it has you feeling tipsy. Rough hands feel down your waist and touch at the belt loops of your jeans.

"Now what was that about spending Christmas with Chris huh?" He rumbles roughly through sloppy kisses.

You part away panting to catch your breath. "That was just to get at your nerves."

Leon smirks. "Bad girl. I should teach you a lesson huh?"

[marnikula]

Can u do early seasons spencer x reader who has a lot of problems and they let people walk all over them and they dont set boundaries and they struggle with their emotions. Reader likes spencer a lot but doesn't seek him out bc they feel like he deserves better! And u can decide what happens but make it happy ending :)

Oh my word, I literally spent like 2 hours writing this because I wrote something and then my internet cut out when I posted and now it's lost, so I had to rewrite it. Hope you enjoy!

Cw: gn reader, people dumping work on reader, Spencer being cute

Enjoy!

You were a doormat. You knew it, your friends knew it, everyone knew it. You tried to set boundaries, to say no, but it never seemed to stick. Saying no made you feel guilty, it made you feel like a bad person even though you knew you weren't.

Being a doormat, people tended to walk all over you, requesting ridiculous things of you. That is how it came to be that you were sitting alone in the bullpen, the clock ticking away, showing you that it was around midnight and you still had a whole stack of papers to go through. You felt yourself about to fall asleep, and truly, you were too tired to fight it off when a ding signaled the arrival of someone.

Without even turning to look who it was you knew it was Spencer Reid. You recognized his footsteps, and even if you didn't, the smell he brought with him would have alerted you. It was the smell of coffee mixed sweet undertones, almost as if he had spent his whole day in a café. It was intoxicating. "What are you still doing here?" "Working, I have a lot of stuff to finish before tomorrow" "you mean today" looking back at the clock you could see he was right, it was now officially the next day.

"Do you need some help?" without even waiting for you to decline Spencer took half of the pile you were working on. He moved fast, knowing you well enough to know that you hated asking for help, especially from him, he just could never figure out why.

"Spencer, you really don't need to, I've got this" reaching your hands to take the files back only to be swatted away by the doctor was something you did not expect. "I'm not saying you don't have it, I'm just going to help you so you can go home earlier"

Sighing you admitted defeat and went to go make coffee for the two of you. With Spencer's help you managed to make it through the massive stack of papers on your desk in less that an hour, something you would never have been able to do on your own.

"You, doctor Spencer Reid, are amazing, what can I do to thank you?" it was a slight tease on your part. You didn't expect him to ask you anything return, it wasn't like him, he was too nice . That was one of the things you loved about him, and one of the reasons you willed the crush growing in your heart to shrivel up and die. He deserved so much better than you. Someone with a mind as amazing as his own, someone with kindness rivaling his and someone who knew how to say no. You were none of those. At least not in your own eyes.

"You could go on a date with me" Spencer surprised himself with those words, he really hadn't meant to say them out loud, but he really liked you, and in a moment of confidence inspired by sleep deprevation, he decided to take a chance.

"Really? You mean it?" the both of you were blushing hard at this point, him thinking about how he could have possibly screwed this up and you thinking about how this could possibly get any better.

"I-I mean, only if you want to, you really don't have to feel pressured, I know I said I would take it as paiment, but honestly spending time with you was enough of a payme-" grabbing his face in your hands you turned him to look at you, shutting off his ramblings with the movement and shutting off his brain with your words

"I would love to"

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

ITS NOT MIDNIGHT ANYMORE . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

warnings: swearing + derogatory names i think thats about it

a/n: alrighty!! we're here for the final round of this whole part series thingamajig. i kinda put this off cause i know luke's gotta make a whole oscar worthy speech and i was worried my writing wouldn't cut it lol. but anyhoo i hope you enjoy!!

part one: midnight troubles | part two: meet me at midnight

what.

the.

fuck?

wait... no yeah, what the fuck?

"what?" your voice is quiet and you turn around slowly, your eyes narrowed.

"...because, i- i love you,"

"you're telling me that you don't want to be friends... because you love me?" you eye luke. "you think you can just say you love me and i'll throw myself at your feet and all with be right again?" you take a menacing step forward. "you think you can tell me a lie and get out of this?"

luke's eyes shine with an unrestrained emotion you can't quiet place. "you think i'm lying?"

another step forward. "yes."

luke takes a hesitant step forward. "im not," his voice is soft.

"you are."

"i'm not."

"bullshit."

the look in luke's eyes cause you to hesitate for a moment. is he actually being serious right now?

"then what the fuck luke?" your arms fly out and you drop them. "what in the ever-loving-actual-fuck is wrong with you?" you shake your head and try to repress the anger bubbling beneath your skin. "you think you can just throw this shit in my face? i've been in love with you for years. years. do you see me acting like the worlds biggest asshole? no! do you see me freezing up when someone calls my best friend a slut or a whore? no! do you see my trying to get out of this whole fucked up situation by telling my best friend that i don't want to be their friend and that i'm in love with them? NO!" you heave you breath coming out harshly.

"w-what?"

"i-i'm just done luke," you say quickly barely even noting you'd just told him you love him in your anger.

"y/n-"

"i'm done!" you snap stepping back from him. "i'm giving you until tomorrow afternoon to sort your shit out, and work out whatever the fuck you want to say or do. but after that, we're done. this-" you motion between the two of you- "is done. luke and y/n? over. we're fucking done. you've got," you look down at your watch. "like eighteen hours, and considering how long it takes you to answer, you better get cracking." you roll your eyes and walk away from the twinkling glow of the fairy lights. not even caring when you step in a puddle from percy's shenanigans earlier today. not even caring that it's dark.

your world has been dark for a week.

~~~

everyone in camp could tell you and luke had some sort of falling out. it was obvious when you didn't sing this morning, it was obvious when you didn't come and watch him train, it was obvious when you had brushed past him and he had looked torn, it was most definitely obvious when luke had somehow managed to be bested during sword sparring.

and that was what had set campers off.

sides had started to be chosen and feuds had started to form.

chaos was brewing already and it had only been a day. rumours about what happened - curtesy of the grape bitch, you wanna say phyllis..? - had formed and spread like wildfire.

it was almost scary how much unknown power you both had over campers.

so now you're sitting on the beach watching as the waves lap against the shore contemplating if you should just hunt luke down and smack him instead of talking - it seems really reasonable you guys.

"hey..." a deep voice comes from behind you.

"hello."

luke's warm presence appears behind you and it takes everything in you to not lean into it.

"so..." you start, hoping luke gets the idea.

"so yeah..." luke sighs. "y/n, please, listen to me- no hear me out okay? just let me get this all out and then you can yell at me." he takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one go.

"i love you. i've loved you since the day you showed up at camp all grumpy and refusing to socialise with anyone except me. i love the way your singing can create immense peace, i love the way you scrunch your nose whenever you get embarrassed. i love the way your face lights up when campers come and talk to you. you're a star in the night sky, shining brighter everyday. you're my best friend and im hopelessly- desperately in love with you. i have been since forever. and i'm the world biggest asshole for letting the shit that went down last week happen. please, please, forgive me. i'll do anything."

your heart burns with every word he says. luke's eyes shine with barely unrestrained emotion and his face is the epitome of adoration.

you're both so wrapped up in his words that you don't notice the small gathering of campers at the edge of the sand watching the two of you. each of them, though they've chosen sides luke or y/n, they all hope for the same thing.

luke lifts his hand and gently tucks a stray curl behind your ear. "please say something."

"um..." you breathe, struggling to find the right words to say. "wow."

luke looks at you so earnestly it hurts your heart.

"luke... i love you. i. love. you. do you get that? i've been practically obsessed with you since i showed up at camp. and you fucking hurt me last week, some big speech isn't going to change that."

"y/n," luke starts.

"luke listen to me please." you breathe out shakily. "i don't want to lose you, but i can't- i just can't-" you're cut off when luke's soft lips press onto yours.

the kiss is soft, searching, hopeful. you lean into it slightly and the campers watching nearby silently start to celebrate.

but then you come to your senses.

pulling away, you look at luke with tears in your eyes. "no luke, no. you can't kiss me and make it all go away. you cant just kiss your way out of this. i love you and its tearing me apart."

"y/n," his voice is filled with anguish.

"its physically hurting me luke. it hurts." tears are freely streaming down your face now. "it hurts so fucking much that the one person i trusted to stand up for me, the one person i trusted with my whole being can't even defend me in a petty situation like that. how am i supposed to move on from this knowing my best friend in everything can't even stand up for me?"

tears shine in luke's eyes.

"so no luke. no. i don't care what you have to say anymore. this-" you motion between the two of you. "is done. im done. i love you but i love myself more."

you stand up then, tears falling down your face like waterfalls. "see ya round lukey."

two broken words a wrenched from luke's throat then. "no. please."

"i'm sorry..."

a/n pt2: ummm soo im very sorry for that yeah.... sorry about that ending of the series (if its wanted enough i'll make another part maybe possibly)

TAGLIST: @iammightsadyall, @y0urm0m12, @just35yrsandtrying, @kaceyh24, @dancing-inasnowglobe, @purplerose291, @shoyofroyoyoyo, @purple-imaginess, @spqrkles, @itz-lilywelch, @d1lf-loverrr, @cassiopeia-core

[lilirari]

new year's day

charles leclerc x gn! reader ☆ fluff ☆ food & alcohol ment ☆ 1.02k words ☆ heavily inspired by taylor swift's 'new year's day'.

💭 author's note : a very short & simple writing to start off the year ! i've gotten a bit rusty with written works tbh :( anyways 2024 will be charles' and ferrari's year !! 🤞 (delulu)

it was already past midnight, the leftovers and remains of a new year's party clearly evident in your apartment. there's glitter all over the place and empty bottles of alcohol, boxes of pizza, cans of soft drinks, and random polaroids littered the hardwood floor.

a sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed the temples of your forehead, a trash bag in hand. as you looked around the trashed apartment, your eyes landed on the only other person present there.

" you don't have to stay back, you know. " you pointed out, as the other person shook his head. " it's alright, y/n. it's the least i can do... especially after my friends absolutely wrecked your place. " charles mentioned, offering you an apologetic smile as he looked around the place.

you chuckled softly at his words as you waved your hand in dismissal. " it's all good, charlie. you don't have to apologise. i was the one who invited them anyways so i'll take the blame. although, i must admit that it was quite fun meeting them again. they were the life of the party, especially daniel. it would've been pretty boring without any of them so i don't really regret inviting them. "

charles laughed at your words, nodding his head in agreement. " that is true.. they do know how to party well. "

" hmm.. but charles, you really should go. do you really want to spend the first day of a new year cleaning up an apartment that's not even yours ? " you asked, your voice laced with concerned as you picked up a few empty cans and threw them inside the trash bag.

upon hearing your words, the monegasque man raised an eyebrow. " y/n, are you trying to get rid of me ? " he asked as he slumped his shoulders and folded his arms. " i'll have you know that i'm quite hurt by these words of yours. " he commented, pretending to be upset as you suppressed a laughter, trying your best not to crack at his antics.

" oh, you know it's nothing like that, charlie. but i'm just worried that i'll ruin your new year's day. like, you're supposed to be at home having a good rest right now but you're stuck with me here instead. and this is not really an ideal thing to be doing on the first day of the new year, y'know ? " you continued, voicing your concern over his stay as he just smiled.

" y/n, you're not getting rid of me. there's no point in telling me to leave because i won't. i've already made up my mind. i'm staying here and i'm going to help you until the end. "

there was something about the way he looked and smiled at you that made your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched. he was always so kind to you, a true gentleman. and the fact that you had the biggest crush on him didn't help at all. as you felt your cheeks start to warm up, you quickly tried to cover it with a small cough. " fine. but you can't complain if you get tired, alright ? "

the sound of his laughter filled the room as he gave you a cheeky smile. " deal. "

the remaining hour went by rather silently, with only the sound of soft music playing in the background being heard. the two of you swept the floors, rearranged any of the furnitures which were out of place and picked up all the trash. the only conversation you had in between the clean-up was when charles found some funny polaroids the other drivers took, which made you both laugh until your stomachs ached and you had to cross your arms over your stomachs in an attempt to catch your breaths.

eventually, you somehow finished cleaning up the place and made it look like how it was before it got trashed. you held onto a mop for support as you sighed, the exhaustion from all the partying and the cleaning finally catching up to you.

charles walked back into the room, having gone out to throw the garbage bags into the bins on the street. " looks like our job's done. " he pointed out as his eyes scanned the room, which seemed to be devoid of any irregularities now and looked spotless. his eyes landed on you as you wiped away the sweat on your forehead. " tired ? "

you nodded at his words as you placed the mop back to its original place and walked up to the driver. " a little, yeah. but it was worth it. thank you for helping me out, charlie. i would've never finished cleaning all the mess in a short amount of time without you. " you extended your thanks, moving your lips slightly to indicate a smile.

" it's nothing, y/n. this is why i told you not to get rid of me. " he nudged your sides, showing you his pearly whites as he grinned. you playfully rolled your eyes at his words, before remembering something. " oh yeah, i forgot to ask you earlier. did you enjoy the party ? "

" i did. " charles muttered, his voice suddenly growing softer as he took a step forward. " there's one thing i regret not doing at the party though. "

" hmm ? what's that ? " you hummed, your eyes searching for an answer in his. nothing could've prepared you for his next words though as he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes landing on your lips for a mere second before darting back to look at you. he took in a deep breath, as his thumb gently grazed your lower lip. " i really wished i had kissed you when the clock struck twelve. "

your eyes widened and you felt your heartbeat pick up it's pace. did he feel the same way about you as you felt about him ? there was only one way to find out. you boldly leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you as you looked into his eyes. " well, can't you kiss me now ? "

charles couldn't have been more happier to hear those words come out of your mouth as he immediately pressed his lips against yours, giving you the answer to your question through this action of his and a memorable way to begin a new chapter of your life.

© LILIRARI, 2024 ★

[kykyonthemoon]

Hello! I really enjoy your LaDS writings!

I was wondering if you can do a headcanon with Caleb or Rafayel with a workaholic and burnt out reader?

Thank you so much!

A/N: Dear Anon-san, Thank you so much for requesting <3 For this one, I went with Caleb because I already made something similar to the prompt for Rafayel, where he soothes a stressed out reader (though the reason why she's being like that isn't because of work). You can read it here. I really do enjoy writing for Caleb since we haven't seen many of his story yet in the game. I hope you are content with this story too. On a side note, I've recently got a few requests about a stressful or burnt out reader. I just wanna make sure my readers are doing alright out there <3 Sending you mental support right here through the fics I write <3

A Surprise Visit

Returning home at midnight after a long day of work, you unexpectedly find a guest being in your apartment.

‧₊˚❀༉ Caleb x F!Reader

‧₊˚❀༉ Soft fluff, domestic fluff

‧₊˚❀༉ Masterlist

‧₊˚❀༉ Request a fic

You came home when the clock struck twelve. The night was quiet, only the sound of your tired footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. After what seemed like an endless journey, you finally reached your apartment.

You unlocked the door. A soft glow from within illuminated the corridor. Since you left early in the morning, you did not recall leaving the light on. You let out a long sigh and felt guilty for being forgetful.

Yet, in the house there were not only lights, but also the delicious smell of food. How strange! How peculiar! You felt your weariness leave your mind as it was replaced by vigilance. Was there another person in the house?

You tiptoed to the kitchen, where the aroma of food made your stomach rumble. Then, you saw a very familiar figure. Fortunately, you were able to contain your joy and instead called his name quietly:

“Caleb?!”

He turned around, nodded and smiled at you. “You're back just now? Wash your face first and we'll have dinner."

You rubbed your eyes. Was it because you're so tired that you're daydreaming?

“Caleb? Is that really you?”

A soup was cooking on the kitchen counter as Caleb departed. Reaching over, he put his hand on top of your head.

“Are you expecting another man then?”

You immediately shook your head. Your hands reached up to wrap around Caleb's wrist and untangle it from your hair before he patted your head again like a child.

“No way! I'm just surprised to see you here, at this hour... Aren't you busy with your mission at Skyhaven?”

"Everything went smoothly. So now I'll take a few days off."

“Why didn't you tell me you're coming? I thought the apartment was being robbed..."

Caleb reached out and pinched your cheek. It was painful. He said:

“What kind of thief would help you clean up this messy apartment and even cook for you because they knew you got off work this late?”

You rubbed the cheek that had just been pinched and frowned. “You don't need to pinch it so hard.”

Caleb laughed. He told you to quickly go inside to wash up and get changed while he finished cooking the soup. You obediently followed. How joyful it is to get home after a hectic day and see the one you love.  All of a sudden, you forgot how tired you were after the long day.

The two of you had a simple meal. Caleb said that since it was late, you shouldn't eat too much. He observed you as you were enjoying your food. He had taken care of the apartment, made a trip to the grocery store and prepared your meal all day. What surprised and delighted you the most, though, was the fact that he was here. You had given Caleb a spare key a long time ago, but to be honest, you never thought he would pay a surprise visit. Due to work, you both had to live in two cities far apart.

After dinner, you threw yourself on the sofa and grabbed your laptop. Caleb got you a cup of warm water, then used his Evol to take the device out of your hands.

“I still have a report to finish…”

You wanted to get your laptop back, but Caleb turned it off and put it aside. "That's something you can't do right now." He stated. “Do you know what time it is? Shouldn't you be in bed? There are dark circles around your eyes.”

He used a finger to poke the thin skin below your eyes. It must be dark by now and somewhat made you look like a panda. You grimaced:

“Don't mess around, Caleb. I have a ton of work to get done.”

“I'm not messing with you either.” Caleb had a solemn expression. “You've been working hard for many days. Now you need to rest. I'm here to make sure of that.”

You let out a sigh. You were drawn into Caleb's embrace. Maybe he was right— you need to rest. Yet, the notion of the incomplete task made you feel quite uncomfortable.

You were a workaholic, and Caleb knew it. He therefore needed to be even more committed to getting you to give up the laptop.

“You're always working. It's hard to find some spare time with you." Caleb whispered as he rested his head on your hair.

You admitted you were a bit neglectful of Caleb, but that's because your job required extra work and concentration.

“I had to text Tara to find out you got off work at midnight.” Cale went on. “If you read the message, you'd know I've been here since noon.”

You raised up. At that time, you hurriedly reached for the phone on the table. As you opened it, you saw a series of messages and missed calls from Caleb.

“Oh… I'm really sorry…” You mumbled. “I really don't know where I left my phone…”

Caleb rubbed your shoulder, then pulled you back to the original position, leaning on his lap. "No problem. It's the price I pay for dating a girl who loves her job more than me."

You giggled as you pressed your face against his neck and gave him a breath tickle.

“I already apologized.”

He put his arms around your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze. Only when you were in his arms, listening to his heart beat, feeling his warmth and subtle scent, and only then could you stop acting tough. You could burst into tears. You could let the weight and pressure of work fall on your shoulders. For you knew, he would fight against the world with you.

Only then did you face your physical and mental fatigue and acknowledge that you were just too exhausted to handle everything at once.

“If you're truly sorry,” Caleb's monotone voice rang out as you gradually drifted off to sleep in his arms. “Then you must let me have you this whole weekend, okay?”

Pictures from Pinterest.

Edited by me.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Coffee and Stitches - Part One

Shouta Aizawa x AFAB! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of blood and wounds, a small hint at violence but nothing insane.

Word Count: 8.1k (damn)

Author's Note: AHHHHHHHHHHH I'm honestly so excited for this. Slow burn is definitely NOT what I normally write, but I've been possessed to do this. She's gona be a long one though, be warned.

Enjoy~

The first time pro hero Earserhead walked into your 24-hour cafe it was almost 2am, and you were shocked. Not by the fact he’s a pro hero, or by how late it is, but by the fact that he was battered and bruised on just about every exposed piece of his skin. It looked like he’s already seen some first aid, what with the bandage on his cheek and his left arm in a sling. But still, he looked much worse for wear.

You were in the middle of your greeting when you gasped at the state he was in. He seemed unfazed. Just after he ordered his coffee — light roast, two sugars, cream and a dash of cinnamon— you ushered him to sit down in one of the cafe chairs. With the cafe empty you can’t help but want to fill the empty silence. 

“Tough fight tonight, Eraserhead?” He only hums, a tired sound really. So you finish up his coffee and walk it out to him, setting it gently on the table. He gives a quiet thanks as you nod and return to your tasks behind the counter. He sat there sipping his coffee for about an hour, before getting up to get another. When you brought out the second one, you also brought out a slice of warmed coffee cake, on the house.

It was about 30 minutes before he came up to the counter once again.

“Is it alright if I ask for your help?” There’s nothing better for you to do with an empty cafe, and he’s a pro hero. You’d help him with anything.

“What can I do for you?” He holds up a tiny bottle labeled eye drops, and asks you to open it. His other hand is stuck in that sling, and until now you hadn’t noticed his entire hand is wrapped up tight like a mummy. He easily tips his head back, letting two drops fall into each eye, before placing the bottle back on the table for you to close.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for distracting you at work.” You chuckle as you return to your tasks, wringing out a wet sanitized rag and wiping down the already clean counters.

“I think good people are worth the distraction, Eraserhead.”

“Shouta.” You blink at him, as he tosses his empty cup in the trash.

“My name is Shouta.” You smile as he walks to the door.

“Have a good night, Shouta.”

“You too.”

The second time he walks in, he’s fully healed. It’s just past 10 and he’s in casual clothing, with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He looks different in civilian clothes, a v-neck long sleeved shirt and jeans, with his hair tied in a low ponytail. He still has that scarf though. Somewhere in your brain you note he looks quite nice in civilian clothes.

He orders the same coffee, this time with a bagel and cream cheese, and by the time you bring it to him he’s got his laptop out with a stack of papers off to the left and a red pen in hand. You already know he’s a teacher at UA, most people do. You’re more than a little proud that your little cafe is his chosen grading spot for the night. By the time he leaves it’s nearing midnight, and he’s worked through three refills.

That’s how it goes for a few months.

Occasionally he’ll step in with his hero getup before and after a patrol, and more often than not he’s in casual clothing after a day of teaching, always grading another hefty stack of teenaged heroes’ homework. Every time it’s the same, a ‘good evening Shouta’ and a tired ‘evening’ in reply.

Every night is the same. Until tonight.

Tonight when he bursts through the door you jump out of your skin from the bang that rings through the cafe. You’re just a little relieved there’s nobody else here to witness the sight before you, and part of you is surprised the glass door hasn’t shattered from the impact. He’s limping and bloody, dripping wet from the rain, and he’s dragging an unconscious mass that must be human behind him all wrapped up in his scarf like a mummy. His voice is riddled with exhaustion, weak and rough, when he addresses you.

“I’m so sorry.”

That’s all he says before falling to his knees and collapsing on the floor. You freeze for a minute, before rushing over to his side. He’s still partially awake, and with whatever sense you have left you quickly get to work. The store is closed down and locked up, shades drawn over the windows haphazardly and you hit the panic button under the counter, which would dispatch an ambulance and a police unit.

Then you make coffee. You infuse your healing quirk into every ounce, then force a semi-conscious Shouta to chug a cup after you’ve cooled it down with ice. You'll regret it later, using it so liberally, but that's a problem you can deal with tomorrow. With that working, you run up to the apartment you live in upstairs and grab a few things. A couple towels, your oversized sweater and sweatpants, your best pair of scissors, and your first aid kit.

The adrenaline is what keeps you from feeling awkward as you unzip Shouta’s hero costume and begin to check him for the worst of his injuries. His half-conscious mind makes him almost delirious as he chuckles at you.

“Isn’t it a little soon for you to be feeling me up?” You glare at him, but there’s no heat behind it. It’s hard to be mad at someone who’s actively bleeding, and somehow still looks attractive.

“I’m checking you for injuries while my quirk kicks in.”

“And when is that?” You try your best to keep your hands from shaking as you peel back the jumpsuit and tug the tank top he’s got beneath it. There’s a large gash on his right side, not fatally deep, but he’ll definitely need stitches and he’s already lost a lot of blood. It seems like that’s the only bad injury he’s got, which you’re grateful for.

“Believe me, you’ll know.” With that you start to cut the tank off his body, packing the wound with whatever clean towels you have at hand. He hisses at the pressure, but you know that he knows he’s felt much worse. So he doesn’t complain. The rest of his tank top is stripped off him, and you help him tug the top of his jumpsuit completely off so it sits around his hips. You try not to think about his muscles, nor the little happy trail on his abdomen. It’s then that he nearly jolts upright, and you have to catch him from lurching forward. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest and his breaths come out hard and fast.

“Holy shit. I guess that’s your quirk then?” You laugh a little.

“Yeah. Your body’s processing everything faster, so the gash on your side should be trying to heal itself by now.” Lo and behold, when you pull the bloody towels away he’s already stopped bleeding. When you think he’s ready, you urge him to stand and walk him over to the bathroom. He’s a little confused as you do so.

“I said your body is processing things faster. That includes your bladder and bowel movements. You’re going to need to go sooner than later, believe me. Think you can stand alone?”

“Yeah. That quirk of yours did wonders for my ankle, so I think I’m good right now. Thank you.” You nod and hand him the extra clothes you’d grabbed as he shuts the door behind him.

“Call me if you need help.” You don’t get an answer back, but you can hear him shuffling around so you let him be. Now with space to breathe, you allow yourself to relax. That was…insane. Pro hero Eraserhead, a regular at your cafe, just burst in all bloody, dragging a villain behind him. Wait.

You nearly trip over your own feet with how fast you move back around the bar. The dude is still wrapped up in that scarf, except he’s awake and squirming, muffled complaints barely making it through the fabric covering his mouth. His hands are poking out behind his back, and you can see the quirk canceling cuffs slapped on his wrists. At least you know he’s secure.

“Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you.” You nearly jump three feet in the air at the sheer closeness of Shouta’s voice.

“Holy- Make noise when you move, geez! Scared the life out of me.”

“Sorry.” He’s not sorry. He’s laughing at you.

“Anyway. The police and an ambulance should be on their way by now. I’m going to make myself a coffee and a snack. Did you want anything to eat or drink while we wait?” He contemplated for a moment, glancing up at the food menu. He doesn’t seem particularly keen on anything.

“I’ve got a couple pieces of a chicken pot pie left upstairs if you’d like. That’s what I’m eating anyway.” He nods, then asks for his usual coffee with the addition of an espresso shot. It doesn’t take long for you to get everything done. You made the coffee while the pie was reheating in the cafe’s mini oven. Soon you and Shouta were sitting at a table and enjoying your small meal.

It wasn’t long before emergency services showed up. You’d barely finished your food and coffee when you heard the sirens down the street, and the lights came into view a few seconds later. It isn’t until the paramedics are giving you a once-over that you realize you’re absolutely covered in blood, no doubt Shouta’s.

It takes longer than you like for the police to finish questioning you and bagging the villain, but at the end of it all you’re left alone in the cafe with Shouta. The silence is eerie as you stand there together, staring out the door the authorities have just vacated from. Shouta is the first to break the silence.

“Are you okay?” It takes you what feels like way too long to turn and meet his eyes.

“Are you? You lost so much blood. I don’t know how you’re awake right now.” He hums, raising his hand to cover the dressed wound on his side. It’s probably subconscious, at least slightly.

“Being a hero this long you kinda get used to it. Like how someone who regularly donates blood gets used to the dizziness afterward. It doesn’t necessarily get better, just easier to stomach.”

“Wow. That was kinda depressing.” You both stare at each other, then burst into fits of giggles at the insanity of it all.

"I guess that means I should be going now. Sorry again, for dragging you into this." You shake your head, there's no reason for him to be apologizing.

"You needed help, I know this place is the only one open this late. Besides, it's not like I've got much else to do with an empty store." His expression is a mix between apologetic and 'yeah, good point'. When he makes a move to leave, you take a moment to consider a few things. The rain is still coming down hard outside, hard enough you can't quite make out the other side of the street. Shouta came in on foot, which means he'd be leaving on foot as well.

"Are you sure you wanna go out into that?" He follows your gaze to the rain outside, a weak shrug following.

"It's nothing I haven't done before." He moves toward the door, and you make a split second decision. You can't, in good conscience, let a hero walk out into the rain to who knows how far his house is, at this hour, injured. You step directly in his path, stopping him in his tracks.

"Listen, I really don't think it's a good idea for you to be going out there. I've got a pull-out futon and hot water." His eyes narrow ever so slightly, head tilting a fraction.

"Are you offering me a place to stay?" The way he says it is playful and light, makes you chuckle just a little.

"It's late, it's dark, it's cold, you're injured, and you're probably exhausted. So, yes, I am offering you a place to stay for the night." He's silent and still as he considers your offer. You don't want him to go, if for no other reason than the fact that there's every possibility he'd pass out once your quirk wears off completely.

"Okay, I'll stay. Thank you." Relief floods your body. With that settled you shut down everything in the cafe and shoot a text to the three coming in to cover the morning shift that they'd need to bring their keys to get in the store. You grab the bodily fluids cleanup kit, take the time to clean all the blood off the tiles, then head up to your connected apartment. Shouta follows you up the stairs in the far corner behind the counter, through the door at the top and into your living space. You haven't had the time to really clean up lately, sketchbooks and pens littering the small coffee table in front of the couch, a towel and a stray pair of jeans strewn over the back of that same couch, a few other bits and bobs dotted around. It's nothing you're embarrassed about.

You grab the few clothing items as you walk by, move the coffee table, pull out the couch and get it completely set up with a sheet, pillows and a blanket. You grab a clean towel, setting it on the coffee table with a spare disposable toothbrush and a pair of boxers you kept in case of emergencies. One of his eyebrows shot up at that.

"They haven't been used, I promise." It's the truth, you have some spares of all kinds of underwear in case friends end up staying unplanned. Or heroes, apparently.

"I’m gonna take a shower, if you want to shower, feel free. Bathroom is the first door on the right, and the fridge is mostly stocked. My room is at the end of the hall, I'll be up for a little longer, so if you need anything just poke your head in the door. I'll leave it open." He rests a hand on your shoulder to look you in the eyes.

"Again, thank you. This is very kind of you." All you can do is smile.

"I couldn't let you go out there in that state. It's no big deal, and you're a hero. I'm happy to help." You wave over your shoulder as you disappear down the hall to collect your sleep set.

"If you need anything, you know where to find me." You take a quick shower before hopping into bed, the events of tonight catching up to you and exhaustion settles in your bones. You don't hear from him at all until you wake up around noon, sounds and smells slowly tugging you from slumber. You make your way out to your small kitchen to find the hero quietly plating some food, setting the plates out on the counter when he spots you.

"Good timing, I just finished up. Take a seat, breakfast is ready." It's strangely domestic, the way he sits beside you in the thrifted bar stools you'd adorned the small kitchen with.

"Thank you for breakfast. You didn't have to do all this." He shakes his head, swallowing the bite he'd taken.

"Of course I did. I burst into your store at ass-o'clock in the morning, soaked to the bone, bleeding, with a criminal wiggling around in handcuffs and you not only healed my wounds but offered me a place to sleep for the night." You sigh, shrug your shoulders lazily.

"Yeah, fair enough. Though I'd argue the only generous part of any of that is offering you to stay the night. I'm sure any sane person would have tried their best to help regardless." He matches your shrug.

"Huh. Fair enough." The mimicked phrase makes you crack a smile. The rest of your breakfast is shared in comfortable silence, the both of you happy to eat and exist as you are. It’s a decent meal, put together with what was in your fridge, but still tasted good. Soon your plates are clean and the both of you work in tandem to clean up the kitchen. He washes the dishes, you dry them and return them to their proper homes. You wipe down the counters and stove top while he cleans himself up, then it's your turn to get ready for the day. It's nice, sharing the space with him. He doesn't make anything awkward even though this is the first time he's been here, and his presence is not just comforting but enjoyable.

"You have everything you need? Not forgetting anything?" He doesn't bother looking around, he's sure he's grabbed all of his things. You'd given him a small spare duffel to carry everything, he probably packed everything before you woke up.

"I should have everything. If I don't, I know where to look." True. With that you both head out your door and down the steps to the cafe. Your coworkers are surprised to see the two of you emerge from the stairway, rather than you alone, and you shoot them some glares. Their scandalous glances fall and they refocus on what they’re doing.

"Thank you again for letting me stay. I'll get out of your hair for now, but I'll probably be back in the next few days like usual." You nod, then turn to quickly make a cup of coffee, just the way he likes it, plus the teeniest bit of your healing infused into it.

"Shouta, take this with you. It's got some of my healing quirk in there, so sip at it slowly. It should start kicking in when you reach wherever you're going." He takes the cup graciously, thanking you again before he's out the door. The voice behind you makes you jump, being so close to you.

"Girl...ERASERHEAD? What the hell happened last night?" You slump over and roll your eyes at Rika, her insinuation not lost on you.

"I'll explain it later. You're gonna have to give me some time to deal with my quirk's backlash for right now, I'll be back down in a few hours." She nods, then allows you to go back upstairs. The climb is a little more difficult now, the effects of your quirk kicking in at the last few steps making you curl into yourself at the sudden pain in your abdomen.

"Shit." It takes a lot of strength and willpower to actually drag yourself to the bathroom, blood already seeping through your shirt. Just like last night, you pack the wound best you can and prep the first aid kit. Sterile needle, suture thread, sterile gauze and medical tape are all splayed out on the bathroom counter after crudely dousing the surface in rubbing alcohol. It's not a hospital, but it's clean enough. Between the blood loss and the pain, you're shaking as you stitch up the gash in your side. It's not as deep as Shouta's. If it were, you were prepared to call an ambulance for yourself. The sound of your door opening and closing filters through your brain, Rika's voice echoing as she approaches down the hall.

"Hey, do you need any help up here? They're okay downst- What the fuck?! Dude we gotta get you to the hospital!" You shake your head no.

"It's fine, I'm almost done. It looks a lot worse than it is." Still bewildered, she reluctantly nods.

"Right...Do you need anything? Water, maybe?"

"Yeah, water would be nice. Maybe some apple juice from downstairs to help my blood sugar? If you can?" She's gone in a flash, a short 'on it!' shouted behind her. Well, at least you wouldn't have to get it on your own. You tie off the sutures and clean yourself up, taping the gauze over the wound. The worst part is over. Rika returns with a full glass of iced water and a small cup of juice, both of which you chug down before cleaning up the bathroom. Your ankle gives just a little as you walk around, and Rika catches you by the arm before you fall face-first into the sink.

"Holy shit are you sure you're okay? Eraserhead must have been seriously hurt last night if this is what you look like right now. You sure you don't want me to call an ambulance or drive you to the ER or something?"

"I'm sure, thank you. I'll be fine, I just need some time to recuperate. You can go back downstairs Rika, if I really need help I'll call emergency services myself." She shoots you a disapproving look but doesn't say anything else before disappearing downstairs to rejoin the rest in the cafe. Limping out to the parlor you notice everything is back in its proper place, and then some. You hadn't noticed when you woke up, but Shouta had returned all of the furniture, washed the sheets and blanket he'd used, and even organized the mess of pens on the coffee table into their pouch. Tenderly, you lie down on the couch, content to rest your body for a while, and your mind decides it’s time to take a short nap. When you wake up again it's nearing 3pm, and Rika is sitting on one of the barstools. Her shift probably ended not too long ago.

"How are you feeling?" You groan as you sit up, careful not to rip the stitches.

"Like shit. But it's not the worst thing I've felt." She scoffs and shakes her head at you, both in slight disappointment and shock.

"I don't know how you're still alive. And I'm not talking about your current injuries. The shit you've already dealt with is insanity." A small laugh is pulled from your throat. You know what she means, and you know why you're not actually dead. Your quirk can heal any and all physical injuries in another person, but the one awful drawback is that those injuries will transfer to your body. You can choose when they transfer, in the span of about twelve hours, depending on how severe the injuries are. But they will transfer, no matter what. Your one saving grace is that no matter the injury, it will not be as bad as the original. Even a fatal wound would be just survivable for you. Shot in the heart? The hole will appear in your chest, but it won't pierce the vital organ. Arm chopped off? The cut would be distributed around your arm, avoiding large arteries and any crucial ligaments or bones. It’s almost like it splits the effects of the injury between you and the original victim.

"I'm alive cause my quirk keeps me alive. You know how it works."

"Yeah, I know how it works but I still have trouble believing it sometimes." That's fair. She nods her chin over to your ankle, which is now wrapped nicely in a bandage.

"I wrapped it, since I couldn’t find a brace anywhere. By the way, isn't that Eraserhead's scarf?" A glance where she’s looking shows you that yes, that is Eraserhead's scarf and yes, he had forgotten it when he left. Clearly he left it in the corner out of the way so it didn't get tangled in anything, but in the process of being in an unfamiliar house he forgot it in its corner.

"I guess I'll just have to take it to him, then. He can't go out doing hero work without his primary weapon." Rika taps through her phone and a number is dialed, and you hear her side of the conversation.

"Hi, yes I'm calling to ask about getting in contact with Pro Hero Eraserhead? I've got his scarf here, I'd appreciate it if you could give him a message. Yes. Okay, I'll hold." She must have found a public call number for UA or something.

"Yes I'm still here. Hello, Eraserhead! Oh, perfect! Yes the number is..." She actually rattles off your personal phone number, giving it to presumably the underground hero himself. Of course, she does it with a sly wink in your direction which you return with an eye roll.

"Oh yes she'll be in the cafe tonight. For sure! I'll let her know. Alrighty, bye bye now." The call ended there and you can't help but sigh at her.

"Let me guess, he's coming to pick it up tonight and I'm bringing it down to the cafe for him?" She nods enthusiastically, a mischievous smile gracing her lips.

"You're welcome, you now have Eraserhead's number." Well, technically not yet. Just then your phone buzzes with a text message from an unknown number. 'Looks like I forgot something. Sorry about that.' Well, you stand corrected.

"Yeah yeah, quit tryna play matchmaker. Come help me up, will you? I gotta piss."

Rika stays a few more hours before leaving, not without triple-checking that you feel okay. You swear her voice was playing on a broken record with the amount of times she'd asked if you were sure you were alright. You change your bandages before getting ready for your shift, eating some dinner, popping some ibuprofen, and making your way down the stairs with the scarf in hand and a small brace on your ankle. It isn't long before the man is walking through the door in that jumpsuit of his, waving lazily at you with measured footsteps. He looks much better, now that his wounds are probably almost completely healed.

"Welcome back. You forgot this." You hold out the fabric, looped over your hand neatly. He takes it and slips it over his head in one smooth motion, letting it settle around his neck where it belongs.

"Thank you. Didn't realize I'd left it." You laugh at that, but it puts pressure on your wound and you wince. His expression turns sour, having caught the action.

"Are you alright?" You nod, breathing slowly to ease the ache.

"Oh I'm fine. You want a coffee for the road?" He doesn't comment on the change of subject, but accepts the offer for coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you work on the beverage, and you can only hope he doesn't notice your tiny limp and the way you favor one side of your body. Handing it to him is easy, and he bids you a farewell without any further questions, though he does mention he'll be back in about six hours to visit again. That's not unusual, it would be the end of his hero shift and he'd be back for another coffee.

So, you spend the next six hours as per the usual. You change out the bandages once more, and being on your feet and moving around is helping to distract from the pain. There aren't many patrons so late, but the few you do get are more underground heroes or construction workers on the night shift, and sometimes the odd college student coming in for a quick pick-me-up to study. None of them stay, and so you're left biding your time by cleaning or restocking however you can in your state. Unfortunately, you'd bent down to wipe out a fridge a bit too sharply, a bit too swiftly. The sharp pain made you groan, the small pop you’d felt meant you'd torn a stitch. You stayed bent over until the throb ebbed away, then slowly righted yourself, only to see Shouta striding through the door, concern written all over his face. He doesn't give you a chance to greet him.

"Don't tell me you're okay, cause I just watched you doubled over behind the counter clutching your side. What happened?" Damn, caught red handed. You sigh, there's no use lying at this point.

"So...don't be mad and don't feel guilty." A single eyebrow lifts on his face, but he waits for your explanation.

"My quirk has some...drawbacks. I healed your wounds, but they transferred to my body in exchange." He seems frozen, blinking slowly at you as you stand there waiting for something.

"Okay, you're never allowed to use it on me again. Now, are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" You explain everything, and he's only satisfied when you agree to let him assist you to re-stitch the wound you'd just opened. He didn't take no for an answer. The store is locked up once again, and you both make your way up to the apartment. You've got everything set up and you peel away the gauze and bandages to reveal the wound. Surprisingly, it isn't that bad. You heal faster than the average person, so the bleeding is minimal now and the torn stitch can be replaced with a few steri-strips.

"These stitches are very clean. You did these yourself?"

"Yeah. I ended up teaching myself to suture wounds because I used to use my quirk recklessly. I needed to stitch myself up a lot, or I'd be spending a whole lot of time in the hospital. I took a few low-level medical classes, watched videos, took free online courses. I'm no surgeon, but I get by fine." He nods, then gingerly cleans and applies the bandages. The heat from his fingers makes you shiver just a little, every time he brushes against the skin on your stomach you can’t help but hold your breath. He’s so close, you can see the pinch in his brow while he concentrates on the wound, so careful not to hurt you. 

"I really wish you'd told me about this, I would have stayed today and helped." You can't help but smile at his sweet words.

"That's very kind of you. But it's alright. Like I said, I used to have to do this all the time." He scoffs, not pulling his attention away from the dressings.

"I still would have stayed. You may not have saved my life last night but it sure as hell helped me a lot more than a normal hospital visit. Your healing was the next best thing to Recovery Girl's. And what about the little healing bit you gave me earlier? Will that affect you too?"

"Nah, I put so little in your coffee it would only speed up your healing by a fraction. It probably acted as a painkiller more than anything, so I won't feel any side effects from it." Satisfied with that answer, he nods and finishes with your wound. Both of you clean up and make your way to the couch, and Shouta decides you're not allowed to get up at all for the rest of the night. He's got water, a snack, your phone, and the tv remote all sat on the coffee table within your reach. What a doting man.

"So I'm guessing you got that mild ankle sprain as well." Damn.

"Yeah. But it's not as bad as yours probably was." He nods, remembering how you explained your transferred wounds were less severe. He sits in silence, staring at you, clearly contemplating something. You don't pressure him to spit it out, if he really wants to say something he'll say it. So, you switch on the tv and put on an old slice-of-life/comedy anime you'd already watched ten times. It's soothing background noise. Shouta's voice cuts through the characters flitting around on screen.

"You knew you'd take all of my wounds, you knew you'd be dealing with bad injuries. Why would you do that to yourself, just to keep me conscious? I mean, I wasn't going to die, at most I'd pass out but between the medics and you keeping pressure on the gash I'd definitely live. So why put yourself through his kind of pain?" It takes you a moment to form your response. Truly, you hadn't thought about it like that before. Whenever you use your healing it's a spur-of-the-moment, split-second decision. You'd always just dealt with the consequences afterward.

"I guess I can't help it. I've always just done it, and said 'fuck it, I'll suck it up later'. Maybe it's because I know for sure that I won't die no matter how bad the injuries, and there's no way to know if the victim were to survive. Maybe I can't help wanting to help them, help you. I've always been a sucker for that kind of thing." He regards you for a long moment.

"If your quirk didn't cause you personal harm you'd make an amazing healing hero." It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind more than a few times. If only.

“Yeah. The only other problem is that I’ve never tried to heal more than one person at a time. I’ve never really needed to. So I have no idea how that would turn out.” He nods in agreement. 

“How long will it take for that gash to heal?” That’s a good question. 

“Maybe two more days? It shouldn’t scar either, most of them don’t.” Another nod. He sits in silence then, turning his attention to the anime you’d put on, the characters delving into ridiculous and hilarious situations. Your eyes begin to droop, and you don’t know when you fall asleep, but when you wake up the sun is filtering through the window. The window that’s in your bedroom. You’re in your bed, not the couch, and your ankle has been rewrapped and the dressings for your stitches have been changed. Somehow you hadn’t woken up, but the thought that he’d cared enough to change your gauze and ankle wrap had warmth settling in your chest. Slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen and find a note stuck on the fridge.

‘I made tuna onigiri. See you tonight for my coffee.’ A grin tugs at your mouth and you heat the onigiri in the microwave. It tastes good, the tuna seasoned well and the rice cooked perfectly. Somewhere in the back of your mind you find yourself excited to see the hero, his company welcome and wanted during your long-winded midnight shifts. He’s coming back tonight, and you make a mental note to not let him pay for that coffee, and also to thank him for last night. After your small breakfast you get ready for the day and head down to the cafe for a drink. Rika’s face fills your vision and her shit-eating grin makes you weary of what she’s about to say.

“Someone’s happy this morning. What’s got you all giddy today? A certain pro-hero, perhaps?” You roll your eyes and turn away from her, ignoring the warmth pooling in your cheeks.

“I’m not giddy.”

“Uh huh.” You shoot a half-hearted glare at her.

“I’m not. But he did come up last night and helped with my bandages. And a few other things.” Her hands clamp down on your shoulders and turn you around to face her, making you jump with the strength she’d gathered.

“Ok, my shift ends in half an hour and you’re telling me everything.” Of course she’d wanna hear it.

“Yeah yeah, you can come grocery shopping with me.” She nods, and you disappear back into your apartment to wait for her. It’s not long, you head down just as she’s clocking out and you both begin the walk to the supermarket down the street. You relay the entirety of last night’s events, all the way up to you waking up and she can’t stop giggling and squealing in her excitement. 

“UGH he’s just so dreamy isn't he? The whole thing is so romantic, carrying you to bed, dressing your wounds…girl you’re out here living the dream.” 

“Whatever. He’s a hero, he was probably just doing what he thought was best. Nothing more.” She actually laughs, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Oh hell no, you're not rationalizing this away. I can understand the wound dressing, but everything else was extra effort he definitely did not need to put in. He could have easily put a blanket over you on the couch, he didn’t need to carry you to bed, and he definitely didn’t need to make you breakfast especially when he didn’t stay the night.” For a moment, you let yourself dream that he hadn’t done all that he had because of his moral compass as a hero.

“Yeah, but I’m not banking on it. You may think he’s interested in me romantically, but he might not be. For now, I’m just going to let things play out.” She sighs, her shoulders slumping a little.

“Yeah, that’s the smartest thing to do. No use jumping the gun, huh?”

“Exactly. Now, where’s my grocery list?” Digging into your pocket you pull out the little note with all your necessities, and successfully find all of them in stock. The rest of the day is spent in your apartment talking about random things, Shouta being one of them. You allow yourself to indulge in the thoughts Rika put in your head. Dates and kisses and holding hands, you let your mind conjure what the hero could be like in a romantic setting. He seems to be a gentleman, clearly he’s not one to just take whatever he’s given and run with it. Not to mention even though he’s just an acquaintance right now he’d gone above and beyond to care for you last night. 

Rika departs and you get ready for your shift, only a little bit excited to see Shouta tonight. He may not be romantically interested in you, but that’s okay, you’re just happy you get to spend a few minutes together as always. The cafe empties out around 7, the sun having just set and the street lights making the street glow orange. The lights in the cafe are warm and cozy, and a light drizzle has made a chill settle in the air. It’s a warm drink night, you decide, and steam some apple juice with caramel syrup for your own personal enjoyment. A dash of cinnamon completes the flavor profile, making the drink reminiscent of apple pie. It warms you from the inside out, and you decide you’d make a sample for him to taste. This kind of deliciousness may be exceedingly sweet, but it’s always worth sharing and tasting, if only for the nostalgia of the sweet treat. Shouta shows up soon after, and you hand him both his coffee and the sample.

“It’s pretty sweet, but I think every once in a while sweet doesn’t hurt.” He takes it, and sips it carefully. He’s hit by the sugar rush first, you can tell, but when it wears off he hums and takes another sip.

“This tastes like a dessert I’ve had before…apple pie?” With a grin, you nod.

“Yes! I’m glad you recognized it!” Another hum, another sip, and you take a sip of your own as it cools slowly. You have to make yourself a glass of water to chase it, the sweetness settling on your tongue a little too heavily. You offer him one as well, and he takes it.

“You ready for your patrol tonight?”

“As ready as always. Shouldn’t be anything too crazy, the crime rate has been steadily declining so hopefully nothing wild like the other night.” You reach over and lay your knuckles on the wooden cabinets, knocking three times. Knocking on wood is a habit you’d picked up from your mother. One of his eyebrows raise at the action, but you just shrug.

“Never hurts. Better to cover your bases, I would hate to think you jinxed yourself just by saying it out loud.” He chuckles, then heads for the door.

“Well thanks, it’s nice to know someone’s looking out for the heroes.” He’s out the door and gone before you can get a reply or a goodbye out. In his absence you spend your time cleaning and restocking, experimenting with drink flavor combinations, drink and food combinations, and reorganizing pieces of the cafe that you feel need to be changed or improved. A few customers come and go, one college student sticks around with a laptop and headphones but leaves after a couple of hours. The chalkboard on the wall is outdated, so you take the time to wipe it down and begin to think up a new design and another promotional item to put up. That apple pie drink could work, with the fall season coming up, and pairing it with a more savory pastry item could work. Maybe a cream cheese danish, or a cinnamon bagel. Shouta walks in just as you finish up the board.

“I’m partial to the cinnamon bagel, but that’s just because I like cinnamon.” You grin, collecting your chalk pens and taking a step back to admire your board. You’d outdone yourself. 

“Cinnamon is pretty great. I’m assuming your patrol went smoothly?” You return behind the counter, already prepping to make his usual coffee.

“Yeah, nothing special.” He tugs his goggles off his face and lets them sit around his neck, the fabric of his scarf swallowing up the oddly shaped yellow piece. 

“Well that’s good then, less healing for me to do.” You smile, and he returns one, and when you hand him his coffee he sticks around in the cafe for a little while. He points out the little things you’d changed, the new placement of the tables and the rearranged beanbags in the corner. 

“How often do you change things around here? I’ve never noticed the beanbags.”

“Eh, whenever I feel like it, I guess. I don’t tend to leave things for more than a few months at a time. But the beanbags have always been there, just tucked away in the corner hidden behind the booth. I kept a little alcove there for larger groups, there’s an old couch as well as a large coffee table for the occasional board game night. Every Friday a group comes in to play DnD and they like the area, so it doesn’t go unused.” He nods, taking in all of the details of the cafe that he hadn’t before. He decides to take a seat in one of the beanbags, his eyes fluttering shut as he sinks. You can’t help but giggle at him, he must be tired.

“When do you even sleep? Between midnight patrols and school, when do you find the time?” He hums from his spot, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I have a sleeping bag I take with me to school. I take naps between classes and weekends are a godsend.” 

“Geez, that sounds awful. Naps during the week and only getting a full night’s rest during the weekends? How are you still functioning?” One of those bloodshot eyes peek open.

“Mostly you.” You’re sure he doesn’t mean it the way it came out, but the initial shock of the statement makes you blink at him dumbly.

“I meant the coffee. You’re my caffeine dealer.” His chuckle is tired and slow, chest jumping with the sound. Yeah, that’s what you figured he meant.

“Well I’m happy to help.” Silence falls, and you allow him the peace while you busy yourself with whatever menial tasks you can find to do. You’re almost startled when you hear a soft snore come from the corner, and a peek shows you that he’s sound asleep, his mouth having fallen open just the tiniest bit with his head leaning to one side. He must be constantly exhausted to have fallen asleep so quickly. It’s not hard to keep quiet, and you make sure to turn the volume of the music playing through the speakers way down to a light drone. You shift the playlist to something more relaxed, rather than the current high-energy pop, and dim the lights in the lobby to make him at least a little bit more comfortable. It’s hard not to stare at him, he’s so peaceful and looks so much more relaxed when he’s asleep. Your mind dares to conjure an image of his sleeping form stretched across your couch, his head settled in your lap while you thread your fingers into his hair. Or in your bed, with his body on top of yours as he snoozes away, his head tucked into your chest with your fingers massaging his back and neck.

You have to shake the images of domesticity from your brain.

You let him sleep as long as he needs to. It’s a Friday morning, so he definitely has school. It’s 6 am when you make your way over to his still snoring figure. It takes you a moment to figure out just how to wake him up, but when you call his name softly and he doesn’t seem to respond you decide it’s best to see if he’ll respond to touch. Gently, you kneel and lay a hand on his shoulder and call his name again. Still nothing. He must have needed a nap desperately. You squeeze his shoulder this time, letting your thumb rub back and forth over his suit to try to stimulate a response, and his snoring stops while his head lifts from the soft fabric of the beanbag. When his sleepy eyes meet yours you give him a soft smile.

“Good morning sleepy head. It’s 6 o’clock, I figured you’d need to get home and get ready for school.” He blinks and rubs the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“How long was I out?” 

“A couple hours. It was a small nap, but I think you needed it.” You follow him when he stands, and he makes his way toward the door when you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Shouta, if you ever need to sleep that badly again my place is always open.” He opens his mouth to say something but you hold up a hand.

“I know, ‘you could never impose like that, blah blah blah’. No, I’m genuinely worried for you at this rate. Nobody can get away with that little sleep so frequently. So my offer stands, and I implore you to take it. You already spend so much time here, and the commute back and forth from here to wherever you live eats away at your sleep time.” His mouth snaps shut, and he stays silent for a long while. 

“I’ll think about it.” That’s better than nothing, you suppose.

“Good.” He throws a wave over his shoulder, holds the door open for the three covering the morning shift, then he’s gone in a flash. Your three coworkers eye you suspiciously, one actually nudging you with his shoulder and leaning close.

“So, Eraserhead, huh? Didn’t know you were into pros.” You hit him lightly on the shoulder, scoffing and rolling your eyes.

“Oh shut it, Shun. He’s a regular, he’s just never stayed this late.” One blonde eyebrow rises, his arms crossing over his chest with a pop of his hip.

“Right. And I’m supposed to believe there’s nothing more going on when you’re smiling like that when he leaves?” 

“Smiling like what? I’m not smiling any different!” You swear you aren’t.

“That’s bs and you know it. You like him.” With an eye roll, you flip him off and make your way up the stairs.

“Clock in and get to work. Morning rush is coming soon.” His laugh can be heard from the top step, and he shouts after you.

“You know I’m right!” The door is shut swiftly after that, and you have to take a seat on the couch to steady your racing heart. Sure, you dare to imagine him in a romantic setting, and sometimes you find your mind wandering about what it’d be like to live with the man. And maybe sometimes you think about him while he’s out and about, wondering what he’s doing with his day or night. Even just a few hours ago you were conjuring images of him asleep in your bed. 

Shun is right. You like him. A lot.

You have to take a deep breath and clear your mind, then get ready for bed. This was not something you had to hash out right now, this little crush needed to stay way in the back of your brain for the time being. Regardless of how you feel, Shouta is still a dear acquaintance, dare you say almost a friend, and you can’t risk whatever your current relationship is with the man just because of a crush. You don’t sleep once you’re in bed, it takes you some time to actually sift through all the thoughts in your head, but you do eventually succumb.

[azrakaban]

Distractions - Blaise Zabini

A/N: Hiii! I'm not dead, as it turn out, just procrastinating and forgetting things because yk.. stress. Anyway, lil life update, I've reshuffled my life entirely, and had a lot of both boy and girl drama happen so literally my mind is all over the place! My grades are doing great though which is shocking given that I've been zoning out thinking of potential plotlines sm... I've been thinking of writing another fic, possibly a marvel one? Lemme know if that's something ya'll want to see <333

Request by ilovegilmoregurlsss , sorry it took so long lovely xx

Summary: Blaise realises that endless pining isn't going to get you to go out with him. More of a lil drabble then entire oneshot, but I'm sleep deprived and babysitting my brother so suck it up buttercups <3

Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, bad spelling, idiots in love <3333

...

"Mars' moons are Phobos and Deimos, not Ganymede and Callisto. Those two are Jupiters." Blaise says, a little bluntly, peering over your work with a tired smile. You rolled your eyes and crossed them out, him looking slightly apologetic. 

"I'm sorry. I can't remember a thing, Blaise. There's so many distractions!" You gestured around the entirely distraction free library, groaning before looking down at the parchment, which wasn't filling with words magically, much to your disappointment.

"Come on yn. You can do this. You only need twenty more words and then you're done.The bare minimum, complete in a mere..." He checked his watch and frowned. "Three hours? For a two thousand word essay? Merlin we've been here too long..." He trailed off, looking down at you. You had completely passed out on his shoulder, head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. 

He exhaled slowly, trying not to disturb you. Had it been anyone else, he might have pushed them away, or been uncomfortable but... it was you. It felt comforting, warm... and just right. And that scared him even more than having a stranger fall asleep on him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eyes flickering from the snow falling outside the castle, to your sleeping form on his shoulder. Around midnight, Draco and Lorenzo came looking for him, finding him perfectly content with you. 

The two of them walked forwards, opening their mouths to speak before Blaise fixed them both with a glare and waved them away, indicating your current state. They caught on quickly, both side-eyeing each other and smirking at him. 

Lorenzo made a motion like stringing a bow, and then firing it, as Draco clutched at his heart, mocking being hit and falling to the floor. He then kneeled infront of Enzo, practically making heart eyes in his state of drama. 

Blaise rolled his eyes and repeated his shooing motion, watching them walk away before sighing. He knew he had to move you - it couldn't be comfortable, sleeping upright. He almost felt guilty for keeping you there for so long. He looked down at your parchment and sighed. So close. 

Gently, so as not to wake you, he leaned forward and finished off your essay, careful to mimick your handwriting. 

You stirred for a second, before wriggling into a more comfortable position. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. Now the hard part. Getting you to bed without waking you up. 

He gently shifted his position, letting your head fall onto his chest, He slipped his arm under your knees, and the other around your back, carrying you bridal style. You took kindly to this change in position, smiling softly in your sleep. Blaise smiled down at you, then caught himself and frowned. Smiling? At you? 

Sure, you were his best friend, and he treasured you, but that didn't mean he wanted more did it? Surely not. That just didn't make sense. You were his best friend. His funny, amazing, creative, quirky, gorgeous, beautiful best frie- oh fuck. 

Blaise groaned out loud at the realisation, first at how blindingly obvious it had been, and then second in intense worry. Was he feeling attraction, just pure teenage feelings? Maybe. But then he remembered. He knew everything about you. He noticed every little thing about you. He stored these little tidbits of information away, but why? For when? People didn't do that if all they felt was attraction to someone. He remembered you telling him that earlier in the year, when the two of you had been silently shipping Astoria and Theodore. 

You had organised a 'stake out' of Astoria and Theodore's third date, as Astoria had requested, and naturally, that meant he was coming too. He didn't remember how that date had gone. All he remembered was watching your face as you smiled, your eyes shining slightly as you watched your friend be happy.

He'd been watching you subconsiously for months now... how had it not occured to him? He loved you. But oh Godric, did you love him? Did you feel an ounce of what he felt for you? No, you couldn't that simply wasn't a possibility. And yet...

Who did you ask for help when you needed it? Him. Who's house did you stay at each summer? Granted, his mother loved you, and you loved her, but still! His house. Who did you go with to the yule ball? Him. And it hadn't been for lack of a date, quite a few boys had asked you. He remembered the discomfort he'd brushed aside when they each asked. But, in the end... you'd gone with him. 

Maybe there was a slight chance. Just maybe. Unless he'd been imagining the way you'd looked at his lips a second too long during the ball. Wait...

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sack-?" Blaise said out liud, stopping in his tracks. He quickly went silent, realising he'd spoken aloud. He looked down to find you still sound asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had a feeling. Just a feeling, that you might feel the same. And he hoped that he wasn't wrong. 

(time skip to the next morning)

YOUR POV:

You walked into the great hall, and were quickly accosted by your favourite person in the world, Cormac McLaggen. Yippee. 

"y/n! Lovely weather isn't it? Those Cumulonimbus clouyds looking fabulous." He said with a smirk, trying to meet your eyes. 

You stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him, giving a fake smile. "You're talking about Cumulonimbus clouds , Cormac, when I'm surprised you can tell your left from your right." You looked down at his hands and sighed. He had left and right tattooed on them. You disguised a laugh as a cough. 

"What do you actually want?" You continued, biting your lip to keep from laughing. You noticed Blaise watching you from the Slytherin table, and made a mental note to go and join him in a minute.

"A chance. Look, I know that you Slytherins lost the Quidditch match, but I'm willing to put that aside and not bring it up so that you can feel better. I mean, it's not like I was surprised, you're a good chaser but just nowhere near my own skill level. Although I've only played against you once, I'll assume that it was your time of the month that made you play so badly." He bragged, puffing out his chest like an overconfident pigeon. 

"The Lion The Witch and The Audacity Of This Bitch..." You said under your breath. 

"Sorry what was that?" Cormac said, zoning back into your conversation. 

"I said I was surprised we could even see the hoops, given that your ego is so big if it was solid it would cover everything in a two mile radius. Gryffindor only won because Potter is a good seeker and you have awesome Chasers." You were stood next to the Gryffindor table, and Ginny looked up at you with a smile, mouthing 'thank you. Sorry about him.' 

You laughed and turned back to Cormac. "Anyway, McLaggen, you're not even Gryffindor chaser! Ron beat you! If it hadn't been for his injury, you wouldn't be playing. So why don't you just pack your ego into a trunk and mail it off to someone who thinks it's endearing that you won't brag over one win?" You retorted. Ginny  and a few of her friends clapped you for a second before turning back to their food, one of them cough-yelling 'misogynist' at McLaggen. You looked back over at the Slyyherin table and noticed Blaise was gone. huh.

McLaggen didn't have a reply for that, just looking infuriated. "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I won't ask you out in future. You burst into mock tears, overdramatically pretending to cry. Cho turned around and stood up, pretending to console you. 

"There there y/n, it's okay, it's not your fault his ego is choking you alive..." She said soothingly, laughing at the expression on his face. A few other girls joined in, pretending to be overcome by McLaggen's 'manly charm'. It went on for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall told you all to settle down, but there was a fiant smile on her face. 

You sigh, looking upset as you meet his eyes. "You have the confidence of a much taller man, Cormac."

You fake sobbed one last time before hugging Cho and heading back over to the Slytherin table to sit with Pansy, leaving a speechless McLaggen far behind you. 

Pansy smiled and pulled you down onto the bench, looking around to make sure that none of the Slytherin boys were listening to your conversation before taking your hands in hers and stating quite plainly "Blaise likes you." 

You blinked a few times, processing her words before... "WHAT?" 

Pansy laughed and Astoria leaned in. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Earlier, he wasn't listening to Draco at all, he was just watching you with McLaggen."

"Maybe he thought McLaggen was harrassing me!" You protested, trying to ignore the rising hope in the back of your mind.

"Sureeeee. Because when you think someone's harrassing your best friend you always say 'Do you think he's asking her out? What if she says yes? I don't care if she says yes, it's up to her, it's just... McLaggen is a dick, isn't he? Not just me who thinks that?'" Astoria imitates Blaise, giggling with Pansy.

You roll your eyes at the two of them, but decide to check on Blaise, to see if he's okay.

...

You had spent almost an hour looking for Blaise now. Thank god for Saturdays right? And finally found him. You could have sworn you'd checked his dorm, but maybe he'd moved. He was sat on his bed, looking at something.

You crept up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and startling him, causing him to shove whatever he was holding underneath his pillow.

He looked up, seeing it was you and exhaled slowly, before resuming a glare.

"What ya looking at?" you say gently, aware you scared him.

"Doesn't matter to you. Why don't you go get ready for your date with McLaggen?" He spits out, shuffling away from you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You heard me. I'm sure you two will get together, and live happily ever after and raise world champion quidditch players. Look, I'm happy for you, yn, just leave me alone okay?" He says, clearly rambling.

You frown. "I'm not going out with McLaggen. After you left the girls and I cussed him out pretty thoroughly. Told him he that the confidence of a much taller man. He didn't like that." you laugh softly to yourself as Blaise turns around, attempting to form normal words but just making weird shapes with his mouth.

You laugh and put a hand under his chin, closing his mouth. "You thought I was going to go out with him?"

Blaise grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand away from his jaw. "Looked like you wanted to to me." He didn't drop your wrist, surprisingly.

"Nuh uh. Got someone else on my mind." You say, shrugging.

He stiffens. "Who's that?" He asks, deadpan expression on his face.

You sigh. "Blaise, for a smart guy, sometimes you're incredibly dense."

You lean forward and kiss him, pulling back after a second to gauge his reaction.

Again, he's more frozen than Hermione in second year. Then, slowly, he reacts. He pulls you close by your wrist, letting your lips fall onto his again as he kisses you, holding you close. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Now I know why you've been failing charms." He says with a smirk.

You poke your tongue out at him. "Not my fault you're distracting."

He laughs. "So many distractions yn... and yet I was your favourite one."

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "You'll always be my favourite distraction."

...

A/N: SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I've had no inspo, but finally once I'm sleep deprived I can write. *sigh* Sorry it's so late, enjoy my first Blaise one shot <3